Just thought I'd repost this entry from my previous journals, as it seems suddenly rather appropriate again. Interestingly, OffExploring has chosen to censor the first sentence so I've changed a certain word to "Poo". Internet blogs like to do this for kicks - they routinely censor quite innocent words because they happen to contain a series of letters which form a different but not so innocent word - so I apologise if the first sentence below sounds as though it was written by a seven year old. There used to be a time, rather amusingly, when any email sent to Scunthorpe town council was being routinely thrown away by their email spam filters because of the C word in the middle of the town name. They actually went for quite some time wondering why nobody loved them any more. Okay, rant over - back to the blog.

I would just like to say, for the record, that European plug sockets are more Poo than Pooey McPoo, Supreme Ruler over the Republic of Poo. For a start, they're not only flush with the wall rather than recessed like American sockets, but they lack that handy third prong used in other countries such as my own which so satisfactorily prevents death and at the same time stabilises the whole arrangement - you know, the earth one. Also, for reasons which defy any sort of logic, they often choose to install them vertically rather than horizontally in hotel rooms so that as soon as you plug in anything heavier than a feather, it falls straight out again. And for those of you who are terminally brain dead, or for whom any list of great money saving ideas includes putting bread straight in the freezer so it can thereafter only be used to make rather hard or slightly soggy toast rather than anything useful like a sandwich, plugging feathers into plug sockets is not a good idea.

There is a reason why tables have three or more legs - four legs, great; 3 legs in a triangle arrangement, great, a bit cool and probably suitable for display in IKEA; 2 legs, table falls over and everyone feels stupid. You get the picture? It's not rocket science.

The only way I can get my iPhone to charge each night at the moment is to push the European plug adapter, a thing which weighs more than a feather, into the socket and then immediately push a couple of books underneath so that it doesn't fall out again. Shortly afterwards, and I'm not making this up, I will realise that absolutely nothing is happening - the iPhone isn't getting any power at all. To rectify this situation, I am required to take hold of the plug and wiggle it around furiously in the socket until some sort of pinhead connection is made and my iPhone starts charging until the moment when I let go off the plug, it moves half a millimetre and the power goes off again. Usually, during the wiggling, the socket throws sparks at me and crackles occasionally, just to make sure I'm paying attention. Sometimes I am required to go to hospital and have treatment for third degree burns.

Other than this, dealing with European plug sockets is a delight. At this moment, my iPhone is carefully plugged in using a plug which is balanced on three books, a shoe and a chair. I am typing this on my iPad, which seems to have a battery which lasts forever, at the far end of the room, just in case my typing should cause a gust of wind which might dislodge the plug...

About Simon and Burfords Travels:

Simon Burford is a UK based travel writer. He will be re-publishing his travel blogs, chapters from his books and other miscellaneous rantings on these pages over the coming weeks and months, and the entry on this page may not necessarily reflect todays date.