There was only ever going to be one thing Mr B would have for lunch today. Well, it had to be a bacon sarnie didn't it?
Our lovely, four star, all-inclusive hotel
in sunny Cyprus ticked the box for virtually everything one's heart might desire. But it was, according to Mr B, Seriously Deficient in the Bacon Department. Unfortunately, because breakfast happens, like, every day, he was reminded of this sad situation
each and every morning we were away.
OK, so nobody expects delicious slices of smoked back bacon in a foreign hotel. It is always a wonder to Mr B what they do with the best bacon - but he is generally
perfectly happy with the streaky stuff. On holiday in Austria earlier this year he even accepted that breakfast was of the Continental variety and took the absence of any kind of bacon in his stride.
However, from the moment he lifted the silver lid on the dish marked "bacon" it didn't bode well. The thin, strange-looking rashers within neither looked like, not tasted like, Bacon as Mr B Knows It. It remained a great disappointment
to him throughout our holiday. Not a day went by without him mentioning it. Me? Well I was quite content with my muesli. I was probably not as understanding and sympathetic as I might have been.
sarnies apart, our first day back home has been a bit of a disaster. Our telephone line is down, presumably as a result of the storms earlier in the week, and BT tell us they can't send an engineer out for a week. A week! How will I manage without the phone
for a whole week? I know there is always the mobile but calls on the mobile cost money, especially when you talk on the phone for as long as I do.
Plus, the timing couldn't be worse as I have
had a whole fortnight away from The Family and I need to hear their voices. The fella from BT didn't seem to understand the importance of this but that may be because I was talking to a robot. Honestly, that's not a word of a lie. Before you get to talk
to a Human Being, albeit one in a call centre far, far away, a mechanical voice at the other end of the phone asks you lots of questions. It is most disconcerting. I would suggest that you try it out for yourselves to see what I mean, but I wouldn't want to
get you all stressed out, like Mr B and me.
It's true, isn't it, that you never know how much you miss something until you have to do without it.
For me, it's the 'phone. For Mr B, it's the bacon.
I am beginning to understand how he felt.