Monthly Archives: August 2007

Last week we received a card through the door for a parcel that hadn’t been delivered due to excess postage charges. I didn’t recognise the name on the card, so I just left it sitting on the side, deciding I’d pick it up one morning if I found myself with time on my hands.

Last night I realised it would probably be sent back if I didn’t go and collect it, so this morning I drove to Woolton post office to pay the £1.06 charge. Typically, the letter was for someone else at a similar address, but with an entirely different post code.

£1.06 isn’t worth getting upset over, but the fact that our postman couldn’t make a judgement call on a letter with a different name than usual and an obviously mismatched post code is just plain annoying.

I should have gone with my gut instinct and just let it lapse and fall back into the system, but curiosity had gotten the better of me. Now I have a letter from some wedding photographer (I can see this through the address window on the envelope) that I’ve paid for but doesn’t belong to me. I’m not sure what to do with it – I could kiss goodbye to my £1.06 and stick it back in the letterbox, but there’s a chance it would make its way back to me via postman prat.

Or I could open it and see if there’s a return address for the wedding photographer and pay them a visit to reclaim my £1.06. Except I have this nagging suspicion that it’s illegal to open mail that’s not intendted for you.

It should also be illegal for someone with the IQ of a goldfish to deliver mail.

Last week I travelled down to London for my second visit to The Great British Beer Festival at Earls Court. As last year had been so much fun, I was travelling down on the Thursday this time – a day earlier, to try and make the most of it.

In the event we only went on the Thursday night, but I did enjoy myself immensely and got to catch up with my mate Charlie, whom I hadn’t seen in a couple of years. The rest of the gang included unstroked Cousin Iain, Nicola and her flat-mate Victoria, Fred, Dave, and Elisabeth-Anne. There were a few others that turned up later on who were friends of Iain, but I didn’t really know them or speak to them much, so I don’t know their names.

First up was a pint of… well… whatever brewery it was we walked near first!