(Mis)Adventures with Murphy

Lest you think that our move to Wales has been all sunshine and roses and green pastures, we wanted to write a post on some of the bumps in the road we've experienced (though in the scheme of things pretty minor, all things considered!). 

Lara:

As with any international move, we have had to cancel old services and get new ones (i.e. car and home insurance, health insurance, etc). Seems like it should be straightforward, right? Wrong. Daniel and I tried getting a new phone plan, but in order to do that, we have to have a U.K. bank account. So we went to a bank to try to set one up. Americans have to wait three months after moving to the U.K. before they can do this. However, I am a dual-citizen of an EU state, so I am able to set up a U.K. bank account immediately. Except that they needed proof of address, and it had to be either a utility bill (we haven't lived here long enough to have one) or a letter from our employer with very specific information (our packet with our employer number that had been mailed to our house did not count). The banks also required both of us to have a national insurance number (Daniel has his already), which I couldn't apply for until I had moved to the country. So I called the number I was given for this, and they gave me an appointment time in Liverpool.

Fast forward to two days later (last Wednesday), when I went to apply for my national insurance number. 

As those of you who know me well know, I am Horrible with directions (with a capital H [and all the other letters as well]). I don't have a SIM card yet, and Daniel has begun his first week of work, so he can't drive me there. So, I use the wifi at home to set up the gps (or sat nav, as they call it here) to get to a Tesco (grocery store) in Ruthin, a town just down the mountain from us. Make it without complication. Whew! 

I bought the SIM card and go back to my car to put it in. Look for the door lock button from the inside and can't find it (still getting used to my car), so I use the lock button on my keys. Put the SIM card in and realize I need wifi to set up the SIM card. Try to get out of the car that I've locked and so the alarm goes off. It's mildly embarrassing, but not too bad. Go back into the Tesco and use their wifi, whereupon I discover that my phone had not been unlocked yet. Which means that the SIM card won't work and I won't have GPS to get to Liverpool. I can look up directions using the wifi, but if there are any changes because of traffic or an accident, then I am S.O.L.

Ok, don't panic. I use the wifi to text Daniel an update (he's officiating the mission area Eucharist and can't answer his phone). I download directions to St. Asaph, where I'm going to pick up a letter signed by the Bishop that can count as proof of address for my national insurance number appointment. 

Make it to St. Asaph with basically no problems (had to circle around trying to find the diocesan office, but that's no big deal). Pat myself on the back; I've got this! Right about that time I realize that I was supposed to get cash from the ATM while I was at Tesco and now I'm in a parking lot across from the cathedral with only 26 pence and the minimum amount I can put in the machine is 30 pence [side note: this pays for 30 min of parking--an amazing deal! I just didn't have the money]. I stand around for about five min awkwardly fumbling through my purse hoping someone will come by and have pity on me. No one does, so I gather up my courage and walk toward a car where a grandmother and her granddaughter are waiting for their daughter/mom. I ask if they have five pence to spare, and the grandmother checks her entire car (as in, gets out and looks in every seat and even the trunk—which they call boot here) and can’t find five pence (“my husband cleans out the car regularly”). She does have 50 pence, and gives it to me, a stranger (I give her the 25 pence I have).

Ok. Won’t get a ticket now. Woo hoo! I go to the Diocesan office. And they promptly show me to the Bishop’s office, which is in a separate building, but next door (I’d forgotten this from last October, when we first visited). Turn in some forms, get the form I need for proof of address (thanks to the amazing Sian, the Bishop’s assistant!), and they allow me to wait in the library for Daniel, Rhonda (MIL), and Charley to arrive (so that Rhonda and Charley can keep me company on the journey to Liverpool).

Except that, since we live in the mountains, there isn’t great reception. So I’m trying to get a sense of when Daniel & co. will arrive. I can tell he’s received my message, but he hasn’t responded. I try the home number, but as I thought, he’s still at the church, which has no land line. I can’t call Daniel’s phone number because it has too many numbers, so calling from the land line at the Bishop’s office won’t work, either. At this point I’m starting to get a little anxious, because I don’t want to be a bother but I can’t reach Daniel and my time to get to Liverpool for my appointment is beginning to wane. And remember, I need all the time I can get because I’m not great at directions.

Daniel finally gets through to me via Facebook messenger. They’ll be at the office in ~20 min. Whew! Sian very graciously brings me water and makes sure I’m not in need of anything.

Daniel & co. arrive. Yay! Charley has just fallen asleep in his car seat. We only have one car seat, so we have to wake him up to move his seat. In the process we find Rhonda’s sunglasses, which she’s been looking for. But we also wake up Charley, who is not pleased. Daniel goes to put the car seat in my car and we realize that this particular car seat will not work in my car because it doesn’t have the proper anchors. So, we unload my car and reload Daniel’s car so I can take his. So we didn’t have to wake up Charley, after all. Sigh.

Daniel graciously switches phones with me (he’ll be at his office which is in our house with wifi, so he doesn’t need it). Rhonda and Charley and I head to the co-op to get food since it’s after 1pm by this point and Rhonda hadn’t had breakfast. I find some food, wait in line (only one cashier), and then it’s my turn. My card doesn’t work at first. But I try it again and it works this time. I go outside and get cash from the ATM (Daniel said there might be a toll).

Now we’re sitting in the parking lot of the co-op. Charley is screaming every 10 seconds for food because he’s super hungry. I realize that Daniel’s phone is at 14% charge. We have a car charger, but his phone has been persnickety lately and hasn’t been charging very easily. So just in case we need it, Rhonda takes her phone off of airplane mode; the $10 fee (per day) she does this is worth it to get to the appointment in time. She tries to get directions to Liverpool on her phone, but we’re in a dead zone and are running out of time, so she takes a few pics of the map on Daniel’s phone just in case his phone dies. Keep in mind that Charley is still screaming every 10 seconds while this is going on.

We get going, hoping that we can get a signal at some point so Rhonda can load directions to the appointment. Daniel’s phone is down to 2% at this point and poor Rhonda is juggling two phones plus trying to feed herself and Charley. At one point we get to a roundabout and the gps is telling me to take one of the exits but there’s a red x on a blue circle and that definitely doesn’t seem like we should be driving in that direction, so we take another turn around the roundabout and another car takes that exit, so we hold our breath and take it [editor’s note: this is why it’s really important to learn the road signs before driving, kids]. Apparently a red x does not mean “ABORT! ABORT! DANGER! DO NOT ENTER!” in the U.K. Who knew?

Time goes by. Daniel’s phone begins to charge. Charley calms down somewhat. We’re a little pressed for time but we’ll manage. I’ll have 10 minutes to find a parking space and dash in for my appointment.

Then all of a sudden we are at a toll. I’m betting there were multiple signs for this, but I only noticed the one right before it. So I have a split second to decide which lane to take and they all look the same. I see one that says “auto” and unfortunately because I’ve been speaking German to Charley on a regular basis, I read this as the German word for car. It is not. This is England, Lara. Auto means automatic, not automobile. I pull up and realize that there is not a person in a booth here, and my smallest note is 10 pounds (the toll was 1 pound 30 or something). Facepalm. Luckily a security guard is nearby and comes over to help. He tells me to put on my hazards (so that the car(s) behind me know I’m an idiot) and goes to get me change. He tells me to find a teller in a booth on the way back through the toll. I wonder how many dumb Americans he has to deal with on a daily basis.

We make it to the outskirts of Liverpool and happen upon some traffic. The gps is saying I’ll have one minute to park after I arrive at the Job Centre. As we get nearer we look for parking places nearby. Heavy traffic, no dice. But we see a Tesco parking lot (I promise you guys we aren’t receiving money from Tesco to write this, but if you’re reading this, Tesco, we absolutely would accept donations) and there is a space open! We park. Right in front of a sign that says “20 min parking. We’ve had complaints that there aren’t enough spaces and so we have listened to you. By staying longer than 20 min you are agreeing to pay 70 pounds.” It’s a Tesco Express. Welp. Rhonda has never driven in the U.K. and doesn’t feel comfortable beginning to drive in the city. I’m a minute late for my appointment. So Rhonda stays with Charley in the car and I run to the Job Centre two minutes late for my appointment. As I sit and wait after turning in my passports, I look down to see my hands shaking.

The appointment goes fine (I think), although it makes me nervous. I feel like I’m interviewing for a job. I can only imagine what people for whom English is not their first language must be feeling, or those who don’t have jobs yet. It certainly is a wakeup call to the privilege I have experienced in my life.

The application is completed. The lady tells me if I don’t get my health insurance in 6 weeks to give them a call. But only after 6 weeks. So I drove all the way to Liverpool (which makes it sound like it was hours away, but it’s only an hour from St. Asaph or home) just to find out that this was an appointment to put in an application to receive my number. You don’t get it automatically. *Bangs head on desk* (metaphorically, of course).

Anyway, the ride home was uneventful except for the protests of a toddler who’d had way too much time in a car. We made it back. And then while Daniel put Charley to bed, Rhonda and I went to the pub for some much-needed downtime.

TL;DR (too long; didn’t read): had a difficult day where pretty much everything that could go wrong went wrong (á la Murphy’s Law), but I am alive to tell the tale.

If you're wondering what the sign means, it means "No stopping (clearway)." Now you know.