Tesco Credit Card - Failing Customer Service

The magic of Twitter is that big companies should respond quickly to bad publicity.  Eager to try out the theory I posted a Tweet and copied Paul Wise the money expert at the BBC.  That should set the cat amongst the pigeons!
Sure enough, within twenty minutes Tesco Customer Support tweeted back through a 'Direct Message' that they want my contact number in Thailand.  I sent it back by return and waited.  And waited. 
A second tweet arrived saying they could not get through on that number, did I have an alternative.  I sent the second number, and waited and waited.
Eventually a third tweet arrived from the customer support unit saying they could not get through on this number either and could I send them my customer number.  I sent this back and suggested we communicate by email.
The fourth tweet from them said "we have passed your information to TescoBank and they will be in touch many thanks".
I waited by the email in a vain hope that the powerful and resourceful Tesco Bank could find it within themselves to send me an email asking me why I wanted to talk to them.
After an hour of futile waiting, I sent a public tweet out to my followers, including Tesco, that they still had not contacted me.
A response from the Customer Care tweeter said "sorry for the delay in getting back to you. We are still looking into this and will get back to you as soon as possible".
Looking into what?  I only want to talk to them.
It is now 24 hours later and Tesco's still has not contacted me.  I am only a customer and if I treated my customers at Hay Tarn Wills (www.haytarnwills.co.uk) in the same way, I soon wouldn't have any. 
Still Tesco Bank is going to be one less customer pretty soon.

Tesco banking - Every Little Hinders

Yesterday we decided to designate to sorting out jobs requiring a visit to Ubon Ratchathani.  First on the list was to change the ADSL splitter, which had not worked since TOT (Telecoms of Thailand) had condescended to replace the router after one month of failure due to a previous thunderstorm.  Eventually Khamma's fury scared them into action, but alas, only half a job was completed.  We called into the TOT office and without further ado; we exchanged the offending piece of plastic.  Simple really isn't it?

The second job was to exchange the shorts Khamma had bought me as a present.  They were too large, I am pleased to say, but the stall in the entrance foyer at Tesco Lotus was not open due to another shop opening somewhere across town.  Other stallholders informed us that the owner would return after lunch.  This did not really cause a problem so we rode on to job three.

Job number three was to service the motorbike.  It had a bald front tyre, squeaky brakes and a slack chain.  It was, I suspect, waiting for me to arrive in Thailand so that I could rescue it.  We called in, un-announced to the main Honda dealership in Ubon.  I was a bit stunned as Khamma drove straight through the plush show room into the service area at the back.  When I caught up with her I was immediately impressed with the employee's white uniforms and spotless workshop area.  It was like the pits in a Lewis Hamilton Formula One Grand Prix.  Khamma drove her bike to the end of the queue; a reception person wrote down some details, gave a quick estimate of the cost and told us to come back in two hours.

Honda Ubon - Clean, Efficient, Professional

To while away our time we had a coffee at the Black Canyon Coffee House and a wander round the shopping complex in which it is located.  After leaving here, we called in at 'Big Buys' and looked at air con units and fridges, both of which are much needed in Owerrrouse.  Khamma's face was a picture when she found out how much they cost!  Leaving there, we returned to Honda to pick up the bike.  It was ready on time, at the exact cost estimate, and it rode much better for a pint of oil and a bit of TLC.  Amazingly, it had cost only £22 and including the new front tyre, a new chain and the usual bits and pieces of a good service.

Electrical Health and Safety in Ubon

Stop number four was the drum shop.  I am looking forward to playing in the village Glone Neow (Drum Band) at Ubon's annual Candle Festival in July. Yo is training up the dancers so it is a family affair.  I was looking for a bodhran type drum.  This type of drum is becoming popular in Irish music, but has its roots in the Middle East.  Anyway, I am become very fond of bashing out reels and jigs, and, if I say so myself, I am becoming quite good at it.  Meanwhile, unsurprisingly my optimism was not upheld by the news that the drum shop does not stock anything approaching a bodhran. 

After a diversion to Ubon Watsado, the Thai equivalent to B&Q in England, to buy some electrical bits and pieces, we returned to Tesco Lotus where we ate lunch and exchanged the shorts.  Lunch was fantastic.  For 138 baht (about £2.70), we each had copious pork noodles, a dessert I cannot start to describe, and a Sprite.

The shorts exchanged we entered Tesco Lotus so Khamma could purchase cosmetics and I could look at fridges and compare the cost with Big Buys.  We soon realised there was some bargains to be had and we decided to buy a Samsung 12 litre capacity fridge for around £250.  I have noticed in south East Asian shops that sometimes there as many assistants as there are customers, and on a slack Monday afternoon, the ratio increases twofold.  Nevertheless, the deal was struck and the long laborious process of confirming delivery and payment began.  On the good side, Tesco charge only 70 baht to deliver the fridge (that's about £1.45!).  The not so good side was the increasing frustration I felt in trying to pay for it.  It is at this point where our cultures meet and I am reminded of the cliché where east meets west at the Bosphurus bridge in Istanbul.  Here in Tesco Lotus, Ubon Ratchathani the struggling Asian economy of Thailand meets the equally struggling western economy of United Kingdom head on, and neither, it appears, is willing to give way.

I wanted to pay for the transaction with my Tesco Clubcard Credit Card, which logically should keep the Tesco shareholders in each country quite happy.  I inserted my card into the card reader and waited whilst the modem dialled up the UK Tesco computer to complete the process.  It failed once, twice and thrice before the slightly embarrassed cashier returned my card to a very embarrassed card owner.

On the back of the card is a 'reverse charges Tesco Credit Card Helpline' number.  I called it only to be told by a computer generated message that reverse charge calls cannot be connected directly from Thailand.  I have to contact the telephone operator in Thailand to do this for me.  My next problem was that nobody knew who or what a telephone operator is or was.  It is a concept not used in the lives of those people who surrounded me.  I was stuck.  Reluctantly I used another credit card, but I know from previous experience that that card is now frozen until I contact the fraud department to explain that it is really me using the card in Thailand.  Anyway, face not quiet spared but at least not contorted or grimaced, my Egg credit card completed the transaction.

Determined to regain some face and respect, I returned to the shelves to buy a few things and pay for them with my Tesco credit card at another terminal.  My hunch was right; the transaction went through without a problem, suggesting the amount of the first transaction is the likely cause of Tesco’s rejection.  I proudly displayed my new purchase to the doubting cashier at the first terminal, and she just smiled, as Thai people often do, in that 'OK no problem' manner they have.

However, I still have an issue with contacting Tesco to let them know it is really me trying to use my card.  If I cannot dial the number directly and there is no telephone operator in Thailand to place the call for me, I can at least email a business colleague in England to call Tesco Credit Card to tell them to call me on Khamma's mobile.  That is proactive thinking, but I am still waiting for the call.

I completely understand how Tesco want to make sure that nobody is using my card without my permission, and I know Tesco try hard to keep on top of credit card crime, but why don't they know that tourists in Thailand cannot call directly to them to explain.  In addition, if you think this is a problem in Thailand it is bound to be the same in the rest of South East Asia.  Tesco have succeeded in tightening up credit card crime, but they have also scored spectacular success in making it infinitely more difficult for the humble cardholder to contact them and confirm everything is ok.  If you think it is just Tesco, then Nat West and Egg are the same.  In the past, I have held long discussions with Nat West about creating a simple message system on their secure website so that at least the cardholder leave a number for the fraud department to telephone back their client.  Not everybody takes their mobile with them to countries like Thailand where the roaming charges are prohibitive.  I do not understand how they have lost the ability for human contact between customer and service department.  A technocrat’s flow chart has succeeded in creating a closed loop system at the expense of isolating the client.  Worse still is that it appears Tesco have not even bothered to test the system to see if it works!

I checked on Google and found out how to speak to the Thailand Telecoms operator.  For future reference (?) dial 100.  The voice at the other end informed me they are not allowed to place reverse charge calls and gave me a number to dial that would put me in contact with an operator in England.  The number is 001 999 44 1066 - I like the logic '999' the UK's emergency number, '44' the UK international dialling code and '1066' the last time the UK was invaded by enemy forces.  The problem now is that the computer voice at the other end wants me to enter my British Telecom account number - WHAT!!!!!

Therefore, I am no nearer solving this than I was yesterday, except the problem seems to be reaching greater proportions like trying to scoop an overflowing jelly back into its cup. 

If anyone one can help, please leave a comment.

Back to Owerrrouse

I arrived in Ubon Ratchathani late on Wednesday night and was greeted by Khamma, Pell, Yo and Ying (another of Khamma's multitude of cousins).  After a meal at the very same restaurant we visited after our wedding, we drove home where the dogs, Cherlon and Kitty (!), barked a symphonic reception and jumped up at me as if it was the return of the Irish Rover.

Nothing much has changed around Thamuang, people come and go whilst wanting to know your business, but it is easy to just drop into the slow pace.

For the first three days I just relaxed and fought off the jet lag, which hit me pretty hard this time.  We ventured on the motorbike to Trakon Phutpon on Friday.  A serious mis-calculation found us sheltering from torrential rain with thunder and lightening thrown in.  Needless to say we arrived home cold and wet.  The weather is, apparently, mild but to my sensitive English disposition it is humid, hot and horrible to relax in without dissolving in pools of sweat.

About three months ago we, or rather the house and the kitchen in particular, was attacked by termites.  There was no warning sign, they just appeared and destroyed what lay before them.  Copious spraying of insecticide seemed to send them away, and we have since injected the floors with some of 'termite-icide', in the expectation (or hope in my case) that the little blighters will die!

Termites idea of a meal

On Saturday I had a little wander round the farm and found Bung, my brother-in-law, busy ploughing a rice field, the new cows, a new chicken shack and young boy ploughing the family rice field ready for planting this year's seedlings.

My brother-in-law never stops working

The new cows

Happy chickens in their Five Star Chicken Shack

A young lad spending his Saturday morning tilling the earth

It never ceases to amaze me just how hard these people work in conditions that are beyond anything we have to endure at home.  I couldn't last ten minutes doing what Bung does, and I ashamed that his fourteen year old son leaves me for dead as well.  It is best just admire from the sidelines, but show an interest and have a go by all means, because that attitude endears you to village, and actually makes the locals proud to show you what they can do.

Bung is so resourceful.  We have not had water for two days because lorries keep breaking the mains pipe about two miles up the road.  Bung and his family live next and for some reason get their water from another source, which is not affected.  He somehow configured our pvc piping to connect to his supply, and hey-presto we have water.  We filled the bath and several 'Ali Baba' type monster pots and we have enough to shower and drink until our pipes are fixed - maybe tomorrow, but who knows?  If this was Saddleworth we would be phoning the emergency services.......

The Wedding Dinner

The formalities over, we returned to the limo to go to a restaurant to celebrate our wedding.  After some deliberation, none of which included me, although the expectation was I should pay, they decided to go to Ubon Ratchathani’s plush lakeside restaurants.  This turned out to be a great choice.  The weather was dull but warm, the restaurant quiet but friendly and the company was relaxed and happy.

The menu was in Thai, so I just left them to it.  We ordered drinks and I was a little surprised that Khamma’s cousin and the village leader order a whiskey each.  There was a slight delay as a waitress scurried round to the next restaurant to ‘borrow’ a bottle, but otherwise we started to ‘unwind’ from our ‘not so wound up’ morning.  

In the meanwhile, a small mystery was emerging in my mind, and that was the gender of our ‘waitress’.  I was not sure, but it seemed likely that she was not a she, but a he pretending to be a she.  Unfortunately, in my opinion, he was not making a good job of it and the mystery unfolding in my mind was ‘Why is he bothering?’  There are a high proportion of male Thai teenagers thinking they are girls, and it is widely accepted amongst their family and public.  I suppose that if a girl is trapped in a man’s body, then there has to be a presence of mind for its release.  It is quite usual in Thailand to see boys dressing up as a girl and their siblings ploughing the fields or catching snakes and frogs.  I decided to take Khamma’s advice and declare my position as ‘up to them’ and returned to continue enjoying the excellent feast being laid before us.

The food was delicious and it was either eaten or put into a doggy bag for later.  The total cost was 1,200 bhat which is roughly £24 – for five people though!

We drove back to Thamuang where I discovered that the leader had somehow acquired the bottle of whisky.  I would have been annoyed but it was only the 100 Pipers brand!

So we returned to Owerrrouse as husband and wife (Poor and Mia – in Thai phonetics; guess who is Poor? Yes you are correct – it’s me).  Khamma started doing something and I started reading a book.  Nothing seemed to have changed, so I decided to go and see Billy an ex-pat friend in the next village. 

I was now husband to Khamma and she was my wife.  I could never have predicted I would fall so much in love with a girl from Thailand, and Khamma could never have seen her future with a farang such as me.  But ‘That’s it’.
So we are very happy together and unlike most weddings, it cost next to nothing. A good result for Saddleworth man, do you agree?

Our Wedding Our Way

So, without any further intervention we fixed the wedding plan.  As an ex Project Manager, what could be more simple; the committee had agreed the terms of reference, the project leader had fixed the completion date and provided the resources. All I had to do was find the finance, and with the party now the difference between air conditioning, or not, that was secured as well! Result.

On Tuesday 24 August 2011, we woke up to the sound of raining.  It was no surprise as it had not stopped for almost a week and the villagers were passing worried glances at the rising river levels, but this was going to be our day.  My designer wardrobe extended to a pair of old Wrangler jeans and a trendy Next long sleeved shirt.  Luckily I had the Merrell trainers recently purchased as a 'goodbye gift' from the world's leading Food Travel Experts, otherwise I would wear an ancient pair of Clark's 'Jesus sandals'.  Khamma's choice of clothes was a summer dress purchased from H&M in Singapore. 

As we locked up the house, Khamma reminded me not to forget the ring.  Ahhh the ring I hear you ask.  We had purchased this the previous Sunday in Ubon Ratchathani at the gold shop near Big C.  The choice was not as extensive as we would have liked, but with Pell and Yo (Khamma's daughter and son) in tow, we had an excited committee to make the choice for us.  With the ring safely tucked in my jeans and my plastic useless crash helmet velcroed round my chin, we set off on the motor bike to meet up with Khamma's mother, her cousin and the village leader. The rain had eased off a little bit, but there was more than a threat of a heavy shower languishing and ready to pour down at any time.

After two minutes we arrived at Khamma's mother's house and I mistakenly assumed the pick up with a length of drain-pipe in the back was our limousine.

After a few minutes, Khamma's cousin arrived in his pick up, without a drain pipe, and Khamma, Khamma's mother and the village leader squeezed into the back of the cab.

I climbed over assorted builders merchandise (called 'watsado' in Thai) into the co-pilot's seat and Khamma's cousin glided into his shiny leather driver's seat and off we set for the twenty minute drive to Don Mudang, where the local 'Town Hall' is situated.

This was my first experience of a Thai wedding and all I had to base it on was my limited knowledge of Registry Office weddings back in England.  This amounted to a pre-conception of events to follow on the lines of giving the bride away, taking oaths, and signing books, kissing the bride and making way for the next couple.  I imagine, dear reader, that my pre-conception is not an unreasonable choice to you. 

We arrived at the Town Hall (called the amphur in Thai) and found our way through a series of grubby corridors to what I can only describe as the Registrar's Office.

Inside the office, along one of the walls, there was a string of chairs stretching its whole length.  We sat down and Khamma explained this is where people wait their turn to meet the 'Registrar'.  Luckily, for us, rainy Tuesdays in August are very unpopular for Amphur style weddings.  We amused ourselves watching the news on the office television, not that I made any sense of the latest market rice prices!

Soon three members of the office invited us to a desk.  I could see that the size of the chair accompanying each desk regulated the office hierarchy.  From small plastic chairs to a top executive recliner, everyone knew, and accepted, their place. 

The first part of the procedure, sorry ceremony, was to check the paper work.  At this point, it crossed my mind that I might not able to do anything if my papers were not accepted.  I just handed over the file and hoped everything was in order.  Khamma did the same, but there appeared to be a snag.  After much debate, Khamma announced that my papers were fine, but hers were not!  She needs the original divorce paper, and a copy was not sufficient.  There was no other choice but to return to the house.  We summoned Khamma's cousin who had disappeared into the corridors of power trying to find his friend in the planning department and wended our way back to Thamuang.

During the journey, I learnt that divorce Thai style is a question of both the man and his wife turning up to the same office in which they married, sitting on the same chairs, meeting the same office staff and signing the divorce book. It is that simple and that scary!

Luckily, Khamma soon found the missing document and we retraced our steps back to the office.  Because it was a rainy Tuesday morning (soon to be an afternoon) in August, we had not lost our place in the queue of one.  The attentive ladies of the office re-ticked the boxes and began to write in the big books of recorded marriages.  The computer’s printer produced marriage certificates; the bride and office staff exchanged idle chitchat, including the revelation that I was the first foreigner ever to be married in this Amphur.  I took that, rightly so, as a great honour to be bestowed upon me.  After several minutes, the office staff recalled the absent witnesses from their wanderings around the great corridors of local government to sign the register.  At the same time, I had to sign my name on several pieces of paper and several books against statements written in Thai, the meaning of which was about as decipherable as the Clingon language.  During these moments, the precise one I know not and passed by me forever, we became man and wife.  The giving away of the bride apparently gave way to just turning up at the office.  The exchange of oaths was, apparently, exchanged for signatures in the Big Book of Thai Weddings.  The 'You may now kiss the Bride' cliché was kissed goodbye to the matter of fact comment and statement of the not so bleeding obvious, 'That's it, and now we are married'. 



The precise moment will never be confirmed, but about this time we became man and wife



Or was it this moment?

Of course, everyone was very happy, but there was no shaking of hands, no kissing the mother in law on the cheek; just a universal declaration that it was time for lunch!

Next time - Our Wedding Reception - Our Way.

The Wedding Day - we did it our way!

We returned to Thamuang from Bangkok arriving home about 4am.  Tired but triumphant.  I have always said the system can never be beaten, but if you do what they say you can glide through the process without any problems.

The next decision was when to get married.  We decided on August because that was the next time I planned to visit Thailand, and maybe we need to plan for a party.  If I am totally honest I am not a party animal, especially if I am supposed to be in the limelight.  The Thai people do not need an excuse to party that's for sure, but it isn't really essential.  I was still trying to work out why it cost Khamma's cousin about 1 million bhat for the party he threw for his son.  That's about £2,000!! He allegedly invited 1,000 guests, so that had something to do with it, and it lasted 6 days, which is another reason, but to a lad from Saddleworth, it sounded like a lot of money when we needed a new fridge, car and air-con!

In the mean time, Khamma spent three months in England and I took redundancy from my job as an IT Project Manager with the World's leading Food Travel Experts.  These were very significant circumstances in a continuing changing 'Life in Asia' environment.

I arrived in Thamuang in August and during one of our casual conversations, I asked Khamma when she thought we should get married and what planning and arrangements were needed.  I must admit I vaguely based my experience on English traditions involving wedding planners and rumours of family arguments over details from the font size on the meal placement cards to the style of dress for the bride.  Khamma's response was refreshing to my ears.  We can just turn up at the local equivalent to the town hall and register.  That's it! OK When can we do this? Up to you darling, we can go anytime, I think tomorrow!

My response was to check about the party, the transport arrangements, the clothes to wear and not forgetting the font size on the place settings.  Khamma thought this was unnecessary and phoned her cousin to see if he could be a witness together with the village leader, or the leader of the council, as it were.  Ten minutes later, it is sorted and we are getting married in the morning.  No time to tell friends in England, no time to go to Burton's for new suit, no time for Khamma to even get her hair done!

Next - Our Wedding Our Way!

Marriage for Aliens - Part One



Sometimes I do feel like I am from another planet



Khamma and I decided to get married in January 2010 whilst we travelled to Bangkok to sort out Khamma's UK visa.  We thought that once we had submitted her re-newal application and she had attended the interview, we could set about uncoiling the bureaucratic red tape and jump through the administration hoops of both Thai and UK governments to obtain the necessary paperwork allowing us to marry.  Why not?

Actually it wasn't that difficult.  We had already learned that a high degree of subserviance is required when applying for visas.  They (UK Border Agency) have what we want (the visa), therefore if they say the application must be written in the ink from a China Sea octopus, then, in my humble opinion, so be it.

The process required a personal visit to the British Embassy in Bangkok with my divorce paper.  Next day the Embassy had produced a certificate testifying my eligibility to marry.  All very straightforward, but time consuming and in English.  The next step is to translate the certificate into Thai for registration with the Thai authorities.  This is where the fun begins.

The area immediately around the Embassy is awash with tiny offices offering translation services.  We did not have wait long before the office tout ambushed us as we appeared from behind the heavy armoured plated door of the Embassy.  On the basis that one office is as much the same as another, non of which meet any standards, we plumped for the first tout.  He guided us, rather gushingly I thought, to a pokey little office with two rooms and a small reception area.  In one of the rooms I could see another farang and his girl discussing visas with a second tout who was giddy with expectation of trapping a farang and relieving him of lots of bhat for a process that, as I discovered, only requires finding ink from a China Sea octopus.  Still I am speaking on the smug side of success, so let it be.

Our tout quickly dispatched the certificate for translation and he then set about convincing us that the registration process was difficult, time consuming, requiring multi visits to the Thai government office and, because I cannot speak Thai and neither of us is familar with the process, we would be better off paying him to do it.  It would take only two days and cost 8,000 bhat - about £160.  I politely declined his generous offer, stating we have plenty of time and actually quite enjoy the adventure.  The reality was we only just had enough time, we both prefer to do better things than hang around offices all day, but, more truthfully we could spend that sort of money on essentials for the house.  I couldn't blame him for trying.

Our decision to go it alone was made.

We took a taxi to the government offices, somewhere well out of the centre of the city.  Luckily the sun was shining so I knew we travelling south east, I think.  Unfortunately the taxi driver did not know one building from another, so we picked out the biggest and started from there.  Inside was a space so vast it difficult to even estimate how vast. It was the vastest space I have ever been in, with the exception of the launch preparation building for the Apollo space missions!  This country never ceases to amaze me!



Thai Government Offices - look carefully for the people near the trees!

Eventually we found the correct office.  There was a demoralising queue of people and our worst fears that this would take a long time started to become real.  Nevertheless we handed over the certificates, filled out more forms, made our humble thanks with genuine smiles and were told to come back after lunch. 

There are many great things about Thailand and food is one of them.  The ability of Thai chefs to produce high quality fresh food in cramped conditions, in the quantities demanded at a very cheap price is beyond me.  Lunch was excellent!

We wandered back to the waiting area and after about 30 minutes, my name was called out.  This amusing when English people try to pronounce my name, but can you imagine a Thai contorting and twisting her jaw at the same time as pursing her lips and tongue into positions never before explored in public!  We were presented with another certificate stating that we were both free to marry each other whenever we wished.  It was a joyous moment, almost like being married in its way, because it was hurdle we had cleared together in our committment to each other. The next step was to decide when to tie the knot.

We talked about how much the tout wanted to charge, and wondered why we shouldn't set up our own agency to help farangs in the same situation.  Never mind - up to them was Khamma's response as we travelled back to town with a smug smile of satisfaction of a job well done and the bonus of a day to spare. 

Next - The Wedding Day - we did it our way.

I'm back! Better than ever!!

It is almost two years since my last published post, and I feel the urge to blog about Life in Asia again.  I thought it was right to stop after I returned to England, but it also feels right to start again now.  I had many 'silent followers', but it seems I still have a lot of people visiting the blog even now.  I was humbled by a comment left by an anonymous visitor only a few weeks ago saying that one of my blogs (more like a rant when I re-read it) had helped him.  He or she didn't say why or how, but I felt I must have touched someone - thanks go to them for visiting, and I hope everything is sorted out with their problems.

Since returning from Hong Kong in June 2009, a lot has happened.

• I couldn't settle back into working in the UK after spending the best part of three years in the United States, Singapore and Hong Kong
• I was playing a bit part role in the company moving around in this project and then that one, not having much in the way of job satisfaction
• I was offered voluntary redundancy and I left my job as an IT project manager with the 'Food Travel Experts' in June 2010
• Khamma and I married in August 2010
• I started my own business as a Willwriter in October 2010
• My father survived a cancer scare by having major surgery and bouncing back stronger than ever

How do I feel now? Fantastic and I have never looked back.  My love for Khamma grows every day, my business is showing signs of success, my closeness to Mum and Dad is fantastic and I feel a much better person than I did before, in fact I am a better person than I was before!

The one thing I miss is Asia.  I often think about Singapore and Hong Kong.  I had great times there and I realise how lucky I was to spend great chunks of my life exploring off behind the tourist cash traps, working and living in different cultures and being paid for it.  It could not have been better, but jobs like that don't last for ever and I could see that my chance had come, I had taken it, but likelihood of it being repeated was slim.  Thanks anyway if anybody from the Food Travel Experts ever bother to read this.

Why am I a better person?  Simply, because I am my own boss.  No more meetings with scores of people, listening to endless points of view.  I make my own decisions, usually in seconds not weeks and months and I do everything, which means my actions make my results, equals my satisfaction.  Of course I get things wrong from time to time, who doesn't?  But I can see my efforts work.  Everything I do is for a reason, that is to make my business work. Before I do anything I ask myself 'what's in this for me?', and 'does it cost money, or does it make money?'.  A lot of people working in a company as big as the Food Travel Experts don't ask those questions and it used to frustrate me so much.  Of course I have had many moments with my head in my hands thinking I should have toughed it out knowing my salary would be in the bank at the end of the month.  But I am better for coming out of the comfort zone and making something out of nothing.  I often wonder what my colleagues at the FTE thought of my business idea, and I am sure there were (are) several who dismissed it.  It will please me to let them know it is going well, if ever I meet any of them again.

In my next blog I am going to tell you about the day Khamma and I decided to get married.  We have recently witnessed the Royal wedding, and the cost of that is impossible to compute.  I compare it to our wedding and I feel slightly embarrassed I got change out of £30.  Those people that know me will not be surprised by this revelation, but I must admit I am amazed myself!