19th October 2010

Well here we go, I started this new work yesterday. I'm not entirely sure what to tell you about it, because it's work and it's all a bit the same. I'm never wildly impressed when people spend 10 - 15 minutes telling you how different they are rather than demonstrating it, you know?
At any rate, I was there on time, and had been terribly well organised all morning - how sad that it all falls apart this morning!! Still never mind, there was a group of about 12 of us I suppose, and I think myself and one other lady are clearly the eldest by some way I'd say. I think that by and large, the group is clearly made up of students. It is a nice building, modern and somewhat confusing in lay out - I got lost at least once, but I think I'll manage to find my way around it by the end of the week. We got to do training, and yep, at last I have a contract in my hand - which reminds me I really must call the benefits people etc and then I'll have to ferry this thing around from organisation to organisation so they can all photocopy it etc. But I really must get that done.
Anyhow the training by and large was taken up with all the things you expect - filling out forms, listening to health and safety drills, and a lot of chat about security etc - you're expected to have your phone off, which must be quite distressing for the younger ones who expect to be in communication with the world at a moments notice any time of the day or night. But you can, and are expected to be able to demonstrate that it's off when asked at any time by a manager - to me, this is strange, but of course I suppose people wouldn't turn them off unless they were liable to be checked.
So today of course, the actual training starts - I'm doing my best to be enthusiastic about this, but of course age and experience will have it's evil way with one, and enthusiasm, for me, is something that grows depending on the environment I find myself in. Too many super-grinning individuals around me and I'm apt to switch right off, almost as if I have to be different! But we'll see. At any rate they took the Jury Service thing well, which is good, and the full on 2 - 10 training is only going to be 3 days instead of 5, which is also good, as with any luck come Thursday I'll be able to crack on with real, uni-type work. As it is, I'm not doing wildly well with the get up early and crack on with it, before dashing off to go to work, if you see what I mean. I managed it yesterday, and even read a chapter of a - well ok, half a chapter of a book before I went to sleep last night, but so far I have not got very far with the stuff I'm supposed to have read for the seminar tomorrow. However, I shall take it to work with me, isolate myself in the 30 minute lunch break and crack on with it. And it's only ten thirty, so I can get a bit more done this morning, and hopefully a bit more tonight. Hopefully it will all shakedown in a week or two and I'll have developed a routine - jury service permitting - and all will be well.

Sunday 10th October

Grr I'm surrounded by more books on the Normans than I know what to do with, but have at least managed to get them into ordered piles. So I know what book is for what task - ie, the presentation, the essay.. next week's reading. And, needless to say I seem to have lost one booklist, blast it.
Frankly the last week has been something approaching chaos. Why I hear you asking, and to be honest I don't have an answer. Don't you ever get weeks like that, when it's not that you have to do something, or prepare to do something, but it's like you have nothing to do, so everything descends into an unexpected mess?! I can only hope this stops at some point, like hopefully in the next hour or so.
Still at least the booklist that's disappeared is not the one for next week, so I have made a start on this weeks reading, and I seem to have a tutor who, for some extraordinary reason, is tolerating my apalling chaos. He must be gritting his teeth very tightly, and saying to himself it will improve...

On another tack entirely, I had Lesley up to visit last week - very nice to see her, and it seems like we did nothing but chat. Loved it, it was excellent to see her. We went to see the Matthew Bourne Swan Lake, which was gorgeous, and where else did we go - it seems like not a great deal although we had a nice walk in the Necropolis - I may get the photo's off my phone at some point! The weather wasn't bad - until it came time for her to fly back to Bristol, which of course delayed the plane - when don't people get stuck at airports is what I want to know, if it's not the weather, it's a strike, or volcano's and stuff.

So this is what's been happening. Awful isn't it?!

Sunday 19th September

This last week has felt like I've been running from one end of Glasgow to the other! And being hauled from up in the air to the pit of despair - alright perhaps not quite the bottom of the pit, but well pretty near to it at some points.
Firstly I got the job - yep this one I've been moaning on about every now and again for months it seems like. You would think this would have me leaping up and down in delight, and I'm certainly not complaining about it, but I do rather feel that I've been in the process of applying for it for so long now I'm exhausted with the whole thing. Then there's the fact it doesn't start until the second week in October, and I need to be working (and earning!) now!!! But still, one doesn't look a gift horse in the mouth, and you just damn well get on with it, and sort out the financial stuff, and you never know, something else might just come along to pad out that bit. At least that's what I'm sternly telling myself in the dead of night when thoughts of gas bills etc etc come creeping along.

On a way more positive note, uni has gone and got itself all organised. I shot off to my meeting with Alex, and I'm signed up to do courses on the Normans, and Renaissance-Anti-Renaissance next term. I don't know very much about the Normans - ha, what else is new, it's like everything I've done on this entire course has been about something I don't know very much about, but perhaps a smidge more than total ignorance. I did do courses on them in the way distant past, when I was doing Med History 1, etc, ie, in the first year of being an undergraduate. So as I say, a smidge more than total ignorance. This course looks interesting too, it's not about the Normans per se, but the Normans as invaders, colonisers etc, so as outsiders. That is always interesting no matter who's doing the invading or colonising, and a lot of this is looking at the other parts of their invading and colonising, in Italy, Scicily, etc. There was a fair bit of contact between them and the Byzantine Empire for example, and their relationship with the Papacy - well, let's just say it varied between non-existent and touchy.
As for Renaissance and Anti-Renaissance, I'll get to this later in the year.
So that was that sorted out, but back to the old financial doldrums, I decided to try and put in a claim for council tax benefit, and housing benefit, which is why I've been racing around from one end of the city to the other. Get the registry to stamp one form, then head back over to Parkhead Council Office with the form, they give me more forms so I have to get those filled in and go get the supporting evidence - I never seem to be terribly lucky with benefit claims, so we can only keep our fingers crossed. A bit the same as Jo, who as a good number of you know is not at all well at the moment, and is trying to claim a bit of disability allowance. First time in her life she's ever needed to claim a benefit, and she falls foul of this government and it's cuts. Her timing couldn't be worse eh? And if she's finding it difficult, imagine what it must be like for someone who's less able to stand her ground and fight her corner. It doesn't bear thinking about, particularly as people claiming disability allowance aren't in any position to be having to fight for things.
As for me, well I don't know. I can try to claim, and just see what happens - it's a bit of a pain to have to produce all this paperwork, but then again, fair that everything is properly checked and stuff. And I must say that they've been sending me letters and stuff awfully quickly, which I felt was very on the ball of them. I hadn't expected to be hearing from them for at least what, another week? But then I tried to claim benefits earlier in the year, and got absolutely nowhere. On the other hand, I feel quite strongly that as someone with no income at the moment, that I should at the very least get something off my council tax.

And I dare say some of you are wondering what the Pope's visit was like. Alas, I can't really tell you, except that on the day it happened, the buses took about twice as long to turn up as clearly half of them had been sent off to ferry people to Bellahouston Park. There'd been a lot of expecting the centre of Glasgow to be gridlocked with traffic, and the motorways to have seized up, but I have to say I saw no sign of it. So really in a way, no news was good news, and a bus did turn up eventually that did get me to where I was going, so... not a lot more I can tell you about that really. At one point, I had to go to my rental agency to collect some paperwork, (yes, more paperwork!) and my walk to this took me past a Church, with a large banner outside it announcing Pope Benedict's visit, and presumably this was where people had gathered to catch a bus to the event, but this was some hours after they must have done so, so I saw nothing of it. Nice looking little church though. (Says her father's daughter. Ah yes, the years of being dragged around churches rub off on one..) And they did have very good weather for it. Its been a bit breezy, but otherwise this week has been fairly dry - Monday and Tuesday felt a bit like everytime I set foot outside the heavens opened, but otherwise it's not been bad weatherwise.
So that's been the week that was, and the week that will is ahead of us, with first point of call being the Benefit Office, with the batch of requested papers. Then I shall be off to the library to pick up a few books on the Normans!

Sunday 12th September

Ok here we go, this week uni starts, and I've got to go to a few meetings - teaching doesn't start just yet so it's like go see Alex Shepard and get my courses sorted out. I have a startling lack of enthusiasm for this, I freely admit. I'm still worried sick about this job, for which I have heard nothing further beyond that I passed the interview and they are waiting for the references to kick in. I keep telling myself that this could well be down to the fact they have to get a new disclosure certificate for me, which takes forever. But it's very depressing, there's no doubting that.
So what have I been doing to fill my time? Trying not to pay too much attention to those who've handed their dissertations in and are now fancy free, etc! Even in one case, off on holiday! This seems like rubbing salt in the wound. But not to worry, ok, yes I'm worrying, but I'm trying to keep a grip on it.
It was Martin's birthday yesterday - his birthday is now indelibly marked by the events of 9/11, which frankly always seems to me to be wierd, because it should be 11/9. Every time this comes around, I remember talking with him on the phone when I was coming home, on the day itself and saying we could be at war by the time I get there. War with who, one of us said, and I'm not sure we're any the wiser now. At any rate I feel I should pay tribute to the post office who did a really sterling job this year of getting his package to him in less than 24 hours - I posted it around 3.30 to 4 o'clock on the Friday, and was stunned to hear it had actually arrived. The reason for the delay was in the late arrival of one component, an Aston Villa Miscellany from the club shop. He tells me it's full of interesting stuff, including about Pongo Waring, who he remembers Dad going on about quite a bit. Pongo apparently got his nickname from setting off for a trip (presumably a game) with only a toothbrush as luggage, not even a change of clothes. Either it's that or smelly feet allegedly. Personally I cite the influence of PG Wodehouse, who wrote memorably of Pongo Twistleton, a member of the Drones Club and pal of Bertie Wooster. Think of the derogation this poor man's memory may be undergoing if the nickname merely originates from Pongo being his favourite character or something.
And how come no one gets fancy nicknames like Pongo these days? It must have been a 20s/30s thing, and perhaps - well I know I wouldn't want such a nickname! At any rate he must have been a very good player, to still be being talked about all these years later.
Ah, Wikipeadia to the rescue.
Thomas (Tom) "Pongo" Waring (12 October 1906 – 20 December 1980) was an English professional association football player. Nicknamed "Pongo" after a famous cartoon of the time, Waring is one of Aston Villa's all-time great centre forwards. In his career, he scored 243 league goals in 363 matches over 12 seasons for 5 different clubs.
1928 to 35, apparently, died in 1980 and had his ashes scattered at the Holte End prior to a match with Stoke. Seems appropriate somehow. Couldn't find a photograph of the man, which is a shame. At any rate, Martin seems to like the book, which I have to say ranks as a triumph, present wise. What is it about men and presents? You just can't find anything they a) like, or b) really want!

Sunday 5th September

God but this possible may, or may not have a job is giving me kittens. For all those of you who've been reading my FB updates, maybe I'm being too optimistic here, and I'll try to explain why I feel this way.
Firstly, this is a very good job - for a student at any rate. The other thing is it's only a temp job until Christmas, which is actually not too bad, because they employ lots of people and there's always a good chance that something a bit more permanent might turn up. Which is sort of why I'm quite keen on getting it. But...
Ok, so Friday I had to go to this assessment day thing - turned out it was only a morning, we had to take a mountain of paperwork with me, so much ID stuff that I was almost crazed before I set off. Birth certificate, passport (I only have an old out of date one) photo id, utility bill, so much stuff I had to pack it into a folder to make sure none of it got lost. Then, before I went, I had to try and figure out where the place was, which wasn't as simple as you'd think it was.
Yep, went on to google, and used the street view bit, but it was the address that was screwy, they reckoned they were at an "X square" rather than "X street". The street was on the map alright, but not a sign of the square anywhere to be seen, and I was virtually marching up and down there for hours. Turns out the square is the address of a multi storey car park behind the building that they're actually in. I had to even ring them up for instructions it was so peculiar. And given this, I decided I'd set off in plenty of time to ensure I arrived in good time (they said in their email turn up at least 15 minutes early to fill out the forms...!) Happily there was a coffee bar sort of over the road, but my God I won't be going there again in a hurry, it was the worst decaff Americano I've ever had.
Anyhow I get there, with my forms, paperwork - I forgot to tell you, I was supposed to fill out an application form before I got there, and I'd done this, took me two hours but I'd got a really nicely word processed variety. Only when I arrived, and opened my folder of paperwork, thinking I was going to be able to blind them with my efficiency, it turned out I'd picked up the blank copy that I'd printed off and not filled in!!! Talk about - well, showing yourself up to the worst possible advantage. And they were so insistent about it! I had to sit there and try and fill it in from memory, which frankly is not my strong suite - but I eventually persuaded them I'd email the finished copy as soon as I got home, which I did and called them to ensure they had received it. Anyhow, having done that I then had to fill out the form for the disclosure stuff - this is where you get your (lack of) police record checked. This I have no problem with, beyond that I put my old address down on it first, and my current address underneath that, which I didn't think would matter, but they insisted that I re-do it, the right way around.
By this time, I was getting a touch flumoxed I'll admit. In fact, I think I was slightly past caring, thinking I've made such a stuff up of this, it doesn't really matter what I do at the assessment itself. At any rate, it wasn't too bad at all, no interview as such, no the only time their people talked to me it was about bloody paperwork - it was sit in a group with all the other people applying, and chat about pre-recorded calls from this helpline, and say what we thought was good about them, and what was bad. Oddly enough, one thing I found really quite useful for this was the various times when post graduate teaching has cropped up on the agenda, and we've been roundly told that post grads are the worlds worst markers, because they're so harsh. So I was actually specifically looking for the hidden good stuff, and I think that came across a bit. Besides, I have to admit, I hate being negative about everything, you've got to find a positive to end with.
So we did this, and I feel I did quite well. They were really tight about keeping us to deadlines, and there were three calls, one we had to crit on forms, one we had to discuss between ourselves (being listened to) and one we had to 'present', or rather one poor girl had to present, which I felt was a bit, well, odd. There was no time to discuss who was going to do this, the girl who was sitting nearest to the board had to do it, and we had no time to write down headings or anything like that, it was just simply there you are get on with it. I can distinctly recall making a pest of myself by telling them we didn't have enough time for the finicky bits, we have to move on to the next, so I guess I was sort of timekeeper woman. Again, all the presentation stuff in RRSH came in useful here, and I must remember to tell Mark! Given the mess I made of my dissertation presentation, I think he'll be pleased to know I did at least take in the salient points.
So having done all this, we had an English test - I'm sorry to say I found this a bit of a doddle, I must've finished it 5 minutes before everyone else, and I have to say that I think that's an age thing. You just know stuff as you get older, and you don't have to faff around thinking a, b or c. You just know it's c, and there's no need to worry about whether it could conceivably be a, because a is plain wrong.
At any rate, then it was off to have your paperwork interrogated, or in my case, my lack of paperwork, and then off home. The funny thing was when I left, I started to feel so sick - really quite physically sick, as if I'd been bottling up all of the stress and tension etc - this really isn't like me at all. I had to go and have a sit down and another cup of coffee, and I was thinking about it, and it's my belief that it's taking me so long to find a job that no matter what people say to me, I'm totally stressed out about it. I'm financially strung out, and all the psychological terror that accompanies that is getting a bit too much for me. So - I shall be inordinately pleased if I do get this job, but it's down to references and the disclosure check. I'm not worried about that at all, happily I know I have no criminal records etc, but references? Ee-yuck is all I can say, I'm not at all sure about them. We all know how bad the 'reference' was I got from a certain someone, who when I asked for one I could show to people, constructed one that was extraordinarily peculiar and left me feeling I should slash my throat now, because for sure I was never going to work again. So I'm kind of feeling very ambiguous about this. Which is why I'm not to sure that I will actually get this job, and that I may well end up back at square one, and in real trouble because then I'll know I've got a problem with that specific reference, and what the hell will I be able to do about it? It's hard, particularly when you know that you've given time, and trouble and sheer effort in the job, and gone to a lot of trouble to be helpful and offer cover for when people are off, and stuff like that. And it's even harder when you know that you could have done so much more, if you'd been ever asked to have undertaken some kind of task or what have you. At least that's how I feel about it. My guess is that I make some people very nervous, and I've got my own views as to why that is. But what the hell, I'm not at 'back to square one' yet, fingers crossed eh?

Friday 27th August

Funny old week it's been, that's for sure. Firstly I managed to pick up a heavy cold from somewhere, which hasn't helped, and secondly, it's become clear that some of the potential employers in Glasgow just like messing people around. It makes you so damn angry that they do this! And there's nothing you can do about it, you can't even complain because if you did you could kiss goodbye to any future chance of employment.
Basically as you may or may not know, I went to the hairdressers on Monday, and whilst I'm sitting there getting my hair cut - dripping, the mobile goes off, so I answered it. There's this bloke on the phone, saying he's from this call centre that I'd sent a cv to recently, and he asks if I can talk, he wants to do an on-the-phone assessment to see if I'd qualify for an interview. I say it'd be a bit difficult (this is supposed to take 15 minutes) as I'm in the hairdressers, and he says ok, no problem, if you call us back, I'll send you an email with a reference number that you just quote when you call. Fine, I say I'll call you this afternoon.
And I did. First I called when I was back home, about say what, an hour later? Answerphone. Oh he'll be at lunch I thought, and went off to an appointment I had and rushed home and called him again. XX is unavailable. Ok, I thought, maybe a meeting. (I should add that I'd left messages each time, to say that I'd called, with the reference number which he had indeed sent.)
I called perhaps another four or five times on Monday. No problem I thought, I'll be bound to catch him on Tuesday. I started at nine o'clock, and I was a tad surprised to find that he was already engaged. No problem I thought, leaving a message, again, I'll keep calling, and I've left a message, he might call me back.
I called three times an hour for the entire morning. Frankly I'm not sure what else I could have done. I'd found the only other number available for the place, and rang that, only to get another answering machine, on which I left another message. Not one of these multiple messages got any sort of response out of these people, and at no point did I get a ringing phone that didn't get answered by an answerphone. I must have called them fifty times. My guess - now - is that they have a number of vacancies, and they go through the applications on a call them once basis, and if they don't answer, or can't talk, move on to the next, but to cover ourselves, we'll send them a reference number so if there's any comeback, we can prove that we've tried to contact them.
What they don't bargain on is fools like me who keep on ringing, still thinking that they might have a chance of some sort of work. What they don't take in to account is the amount of money we spend on our phone bills to do this. God only knows what this has cost me, because it's not simply a ring, no answer, hang up. There's that answerphone which when it answers starts my bill ticking. All those bloody messages.
No wonder when the cold kicked in I was feeling really quite down.
Then yesterday, I got a call from someone else I'd sent an email to. Could I come to an interview? Of course I could. I'd've needed to have been on my deathbed not to have gone to an interview. Chit chat about the position. Then comes the fatal news, no it's not a part time position, it's a full time one - so there's no point in going to an interview, I'm not about to junk my uni course. So that was that.
I keep cruising the job sites, and I keep on sending my cv off, and yep, things must be picking up a bit, because I'm getting more responses to the cv than at anytime for the last 18 months. But it's soul destroying to have potential work dangled in front of you, and then snatched away, either because they've made a mistake in their advert, or they won't call you back. But then why should they? There are thousands of people out there looking for work, and to judge by the news last night, a few more hundred as of this morning. Oh well, onwards and upwards.

Monday 16th August

Well I did it. It was pretty touch and go there, especially on Sunday - I have blisters on top of blisters, owing to the incredible amount of walking, and I have to say that whilst the idea of following people was pretty interesting to start out with, it got pretty boring in the execution!
Firstly, people have absolutely no idea that they're being followed. You ought to try it, simply to give you an insight into how oblivious you become when you're shopping. Next time you're in M&S, or wherever, just for five minutes, pick the third person to come in through the door, and follow them. The trick to it is that as you're doing it, you stay a bit back from them, but keep them in your eye line. As you go along, touch, and lift up whatever items are on the rails in front of you, or reach to fiddle with the price ticket. That way you make yourself into an ordinary shopper. The person you're following will simply accept that that's what you are, and you become a part of their wallpaper. When people are shopping, they are looking at whatever's on sale. Other people only impinge on their radar if they become an obstacle to be got around, or if you are suddenly focused on the same thing. Then it's that curious dance of "Oh I'm sorry!" when you brush into each other, that kind of thing. You only come back to the reality of your surroundings when you need to find a sales assistant, or the changing rooms, or go to the checkout. Then you start to take in the whole of the room again. Focus is a weird part of being human, the way we blot out the totality to seek out whatever we want, and must have been a key part of survival back in the dawn of prehistory. How else would we have been able to see a ripe berry or the tiny flower of a particular herb amidst a mass of greenery? Now, we turn focus onto whatever we look for amidst a mass of clothing, or whatever.
I've seen some mighty strange things over the past few days. I've seen two teenage girls hunt out the corner that was out of range of the cctv, bury one jacket deep in the bottom of a bag whilst the other tried the identical jacket on and made a big fuss about whether it suited her or not - talk about displacement activity. I wasn't at all sure what to do about this, but we'd been given strict instructions that we were only there to watch, and shouldn't intervene if we saw something like this. So I didn't and yep, still go a few guilt pangs about it. The only thing I can say is that I have absolutely no idea what either of these girls looked like, I can't remember a single distinguishing characteristic of any of these people, because when I picked them to follow I focused on a characteristic that allowed me to pick them out at a reasonable distance - one woman was tall, another had a very odd hair thing involving a ponytail - someone else had the world's worst jacket (I'd swear it was yellow leather), that kind of thing. And I was so transfixed by what they were doing that I didn't seen them at all. Another day I followed a middle aged man and his wife around a men's clothing department, and I'd swear they examined every single shirt in the place. They took what felt like hours doing this, and my guess is that she wanted him to branch out a bit into something a bit different from what he would normally wear - but what did they end up with? A blue short sleeved shirt. Hours it felt like. I would swear that if she hadn't been with him, he'd have been in and out of there in 15 minutes.

But my overwhelming memory that I'm going to take away from this is going to be my feet. The first day we were at this from twenty to ten in the morning until 8 o'clock at night, and the other days were twenty to ten until 6, and I think it's a miracle that I've managed to get through it - confession here, I didn't manage it at all on Saturday, I could barely walk. Come Sunday, I was back at it, and I'm extremely thankful that its over and done with. I wouldn't be able to do this, I don't think anyone would be able to do it on a long term basis. It's not just the trekking up and down between Buchanan Galleries and St Enochs, it's the miles you walk inside of these shops, and I mean miles. A shop like John Lewis, not only is it what, three floors, but those floors have one heck of a lot of ground space. You follow someone in through the doors say at the back opposite the bus station, then they go up an escalator, spend forty minutes or so trekking around the women's clothing department, then they go on a short trip to the loo, perhaps pick up a pair of shoes before heading back to the clothing department to select a few of the garments they've looked at and have twenty five minutes in the changing rooms. They are perfectly capable of coming out of there and going to fetch another four or five dresses. Then maybe it's back to the shoe department to change their original choice for a version in blue, then they'll go off to the cafe - not me, worst luck, I'm stuck in the area around the cafe entrance waiting for them to come out, then maybe they'll be off to look at the lighting, or the hats... it's interminable, and after say what the third time this happens, stultifyingly boring. The only really interesting thing I've found over the past four days is that there are some rather nice scarves around which I may at some point pop back to pick up. I'm getting fed up of hair in my eyes, and it's either that or a haircut.. no not the haircut!!!

The other big downside of this job was that there was nowhere to go to put your feet up, or eat a sandwich. I had to go to cafes and stuff for lunch, and there aren't that many around in the shopping centre that serve a)decent food or b) cheap food! In fact I have to say M&S's cafe - particularly on Sunday when it's unaccountably quiet - was remarkably good value for money. As for that hellhole in the Buchanan Gallery which goes by some variety of the name "Streat", they are charging the most outrageous prices for the biggest plateful of cr@p I've ever had the misfortune to pay for. I had the allday breakfast at about 3 pm on Thursday. What you get is a huge plate, a simply vast bowl style in which are 'decoratively' arranged two extremely cheap sausages - more filler than meat, a small dessert spoonful of scrambled egg that at my guess where scrambled say at about 8 am, enough time for them to have become set scrambled egg at any rate, and I'd swear they must have started out as powdered, a piece of carbonised bacon - so carbonised, or more probably microwaved, that teeth could not penetrate it, and a large piece of some sort of bread. This was extremely mysterious because I suspect it was possibly some sort of pitta, or flat bread, with those odd green/grey marks on the bottom that are meant to indicate it's been baked on stone. This thing had never seen a stone in the totality of it's existence. How they get those marks there I have no idea, but I suspect that a machine stamps them on. It had then been toasted at some point, because it had the toasting lines on the top of it, but despite this, I'm convinced it was a solid lump of dough in the middle. Vile. I didn't touch it. Anyhow for this ghastly concoction they have the cheek to charge you £3.95, which frankly should be reported to the trades description people, but who's going to go to that much trouble? The staff are nice though, and you feel embarrassed on their behalf. In M&S I got a nice salmon and cucumber sandwich and pot of earl grey tea for about the same amount of money, and it was fresh, and tasty. I don't normally go in for food reviews, but maybe amid the sea of woe that were my feet, the most important thing was I got to sit down for 20 minutes!!!