Bug Unit

Well, I realised yesterday that I have not written on the blog for about three weeks. In fact, I think I have hardly done any personal web usage or fooling around at work in the last two weeks at all, which might be a good thing for the company, but is probably a bad thing for me.

Ok, so I am working at Visitscotland.com. I am their brand spanking new web analyst, and I have not really done any work yet. It is day 7 of me being here. The whole of week one was meeting people and familiarising myself with their (nightmarish, behemoth) website. I say that because the site from top to toe is about, approximately 90 000 pages big (Or is it wide? Or long? Anyways…).So, it is a big site. I am part of the business development team, and as far as I can understand (day 7), I am to look at the stats, tell people what isn’t working and then we as a team can try and fix it. It seems like a cool company, and thus far everyone has been very nice. The CEO even sat with me for an hour and a half, when he hardly has five minutes to spare. It was cool.

I am also now an official commuter. Every morning I wake up at 5:30, shower, eat breakfast and put on my suit. Yes, my suit. I leave the house at 6:30, and catch two buses to get to Livingston at 8:10. Then I work til 4:50, get on two buses and usually walk into the house at about 6:30, making it a nice round day. I have been struggling to get used to it, as my last job didn’t take much travelling and I could roll out of bed at 7:30, but it is all good and I will get used to it.

Two exciting new developments have occurred:

1. Heather
2. Italy

Now obviously, the existence of these developments pre-dated the blog. Especially Italy, which was founded in 1957.

Anyway…Heather has arrived in Edinburgh for a few weeks to soak up the sunshine (joke…that was a joke: weather more miserable than it has been since January at the moment) and check up that I am taking care of her ‘little one’. It has been really cool having her here, and so nice to see a friendly face from home.

Italy is pretty self-explanatory. We went to Italy this past weekend, and it was fantabulous.

We woke up at 2:30/ 2:45 on Saturday to catch the 3:30 bus to Glasgow Prestwick airport. We then checked in and hopped on the 6:20 flight to Pisa. Pisa was beautiful and sunny and all the things you would expect from Pisa (having been to Pisa before, I knew what things to expect. Cunning.) We saw the tower and a massive military parade, frolicked, took photos, frolicked some more and then dragged big heavy suitcases across the length of Pisa.

We then got on a train that managed to be raining (leaky aircon) in spite of the sunny skies out the window, and headed for Florence. The entire floor was wet by the time we arrived, so it is probably good that we weren’t booked for any kind of onward journey.
Florence was also absolutely gorgeous, with small clustered streets and window boxes full of flowers and ice cream and good looking Italian men…um…I mean, lovely scenery. We had a slight hiccup while trying to get to our accommodation- we arrived at the street, and it wasn’t there. What? Well, it simply wasn’t there. The address that we were given (a street address) contained no One World Apartments. No problem- we phone them. No problem- they send a man on a bicycle, armed with a note.

Mr Whittington
Your apartment is not here! Please now go across the bridge into a totally different part of town where you actually didn’t want to stay or you would have booked there, to inhabit an apartment which we have fraudulently claimed was here when actually it was not.

Ps: the key we have provided you with does not actually open the front door. You will be stuck on the street for half an hour while we ignore your calls. We apologise for the inconvenience.

[Ed’s note: phrasing not exact]

Ok, so we have not slept since 2:30 am, we are dragging suitcases in the Italian heat across town, it is mid-afternoon, and then the key didn’t actually open the door. The apartment was five stories up (no lift- tiny small footed Italian concrete stairs), and it was hot. But, it was actually really pretty, overlooking a tiny piazza, and once we had had a nap and recovered our sense of humour, it was actually a cool place to stay- there was always something happening. We went to sleep with a concert underneath our window and woke up with a market clanging away selling cheese, soap, fish made of candle wax and other essentials.

Florence itself is as beautiful as it was last time I saw it, streets filled with tourists, buskers and people selling handbags. We shopped a lot, we ate a lot, we soaked up the sun and the scenery. As for the rumours that there was wine involved, I cannot comment.

My only other negative about Florence was a grumpy waiter who mis-understood me when I was ordering. I ordered a pasta (starter portion) and a margarita for Kyle and I to share (he was also ordering a pasta, and Heather was about to order a pizza). I was speaking to an Italian man, so I foolishly used swirly hand movements to say ‘bring it all to-geth-er’. He thought I meant that we were sharing the food, freaked out at me, told me he would not serve us, to get out of his restaurant and go to the self catering place down the street. No jokes. When he realised that we were bona fide customers, we received no apology. He received no tip, so the scale was evened out.

Otherwise, special memories are listening to a busker on Ponte Vecchio late in the evening, pasta, laughter and generally walking around the beautiful streets, absorbing all the best of Italian culture.

For the second part of our trip we Eurostar-ed our way up to the great ancient city of Roma. We caught a taxi to our hotel. Outside there was a little man waiting with a note.

Dear Mr Whittington

Owing to repairs in the Chiara Stella Guest House, we regret to inform you that you have been moved to the Gioia Guest House instead. The guest house is under the same management and is of the same standard as Chiara Stella. We apologise for the inconvenience.

Having been moved around in Paris, Florence and now Rome, I was beginning to wonder why Europeans bothered with the sham of ‘booking’ when they obviously had no intention of letting you stay where you wanted to anyway, but then we saw the Gioia guest house, which was a haven of nice fittings, tiled floors and aircon. I was content.

We headed out in the afternoon to see the Colosseum, which was quite intense. Knowing the history of the place, it is hard to pair your knowledge of the pain and suffering that occurred there with the enjoyment and interest you have in such an old and unique building, so the two emotions sat uneasily side by side. I will say though that seeing it was truly fascinating.

Kyle and Heather then opted to sit under an olive tree (!) while I went and explored the ancient ruins of the old city, temple of Saturn and other things to charm your average history nerd into a coma. It was really amazing, and I would love to go back sometime to give everything the attention it actually deserved.

Evening came and we found a small pasta bar overlooking the Colosseum to have dinner at. We had a drink at a small Italian bar and then went back to bed- no market underneath our window this time, but the silence was a welcome change.

Day 2 in Rome was limited in terms of time, but we did our best, being bullied by an Italian woman, visiting St Peter’s Square at the Vatican, walking the streets and absorbing the yellow/green and white beauty that is Rome. Rome also completely awakens both the Christian and the history nerd in me, and I have an appointment to go back and see more, and more, and more, and…The problem is, I don’t think you could ever see all that Rome has to offer- but I would like to try.

5pm, back on bus. Bus-airport-airport-plane-plane-chairs in airport- bus-taxi- home. Home, 2:05 am. Sleep.

5:20 am alarm clock. Argh.