Great Expectations?

          On Tuesday morning, out of simple curiosity, I took the newly established ferry service that runs from Plymouth, up the Tamar estuary and over to the Cornish town of Saltash. The route affords a close-up view of the Royal Naval dockyards that line the Plymouth side of the river but are not so visible from the city itself. If I had hoped to see His Majesty’s mighty fleet at anchor, I would have been disappointed. But, knowing that the Navy is no longer the force it once was, I was not surprised to see that the few vessels docked there (apart from a visiting French warship) appeared to be rusting away or else under repair. Still, it’s a pity that, in my excitement to set off on my outing, I forgot to take any of the three pairs of binoculars or two telescopes we own. I might have caught a glimpse of something more exciting.

          Since I’m familiar with Saltash, I had no intention of staying long, so when I stumbled across a well-stocked e-bike station next to the landing stage, I hit on the idea of renting one to ease my progress up the exceptionally steep hill that takes you into the town. I don’t know whether the bike I chose was a dud, but it didn’t make it up the ascent. Despite my vigorous exertions on the pedals, I was forced eventually to dismount and push the (very heavy) machine to the brow, by which time my heart was thumping, my breathing laboured and my thoughts were on whether I might expire before docking the bike, thereby lumbering my estate with a steep bill for its hire. I survived the ordeal, though my faith in e-bikes was dented. And I had found, incidentally, an explanation as to why the stash of e-bikes down at the ferry landing was so much bigger than the one at the top of the hill.

          Since I had expected technology to make my labours easier, not harder, the lesson I took was that I need to work on managing expectations. So, I put this into practise later in the week, when I traded in our five-year-old phones for a couple of newer models. Foreseeing complications (is it just me?), I laid down some parameters, the chief of which were: no migration from Android and no deviation from Samsung. The last time I did this, I learned quite a lot about how to screw things up; this time would be less of a disaster. Even so, I duly anticipated irritation at best and exasperation at worst, so I set aside plenty of time and emotional energy. In the event, all went smoothly, but this was due in large part to the fact that Android and Samsung have developed the software to make it so.

          Flush with success (and funds, having picked up a couple of bargain-price handsets) I then tackled one other thing on my to-do list: booking tickets for summer music festivals. I haven’t done it for some time, but the bug is biting and the campervan is crying out to be put to good use. (I say “I” because my Other Half is no fan of such events: but that’s another story). Ideally, I would have got tickets for Love Supreme, but the campervan pitches are sold out and taking a tent would be an insult to the van. However, I booked a pitch at Womad – without electricity! – and can look forward to a few days of comfortable, convenient accommodation, from which I can emerge at will to drift in and out of transformative musical experiences as the fancy takes me. At least, that is my expectation: the last festival we went to, Port Merrion, was abandoned early because of incessant rain and consequent flooding. I won’t dwell on the details, but that is the gist of the other story referred to above.