Hooray for BiSto

Apparently, when I placed the order to have the phone moved and the broadband, the phone was de- and reconnected - but not the broadband, even though I was assured it would be done.
I was on the line with BT yesterday, listening to the first bit of "Eine Kleine Nachtmusik" over and over again, and hoping things could be rectified soon. If not, this is the last post for some time (or rather, until Tuesday, when I'm back at work).

Before I could post this, the one hour I had on the wireless hotspot was over, so instead of yesterday, you're getting this post today, as I am at the workplace, cleaning it up a bit for an important visit on Tuesday (and I have been forbidden to come in on Monday). I am not sure yet if I'll manage to do everything today, however, as I am pretty exhausted from a long day at the Stortford Music Festival.

Woohoo, what a festival! Three stages (four, if you count the one in the beer tent, which I do), lots and lots of acts of all colours, music for all ages, and some very strange and wonderful people on stage - the most amazing was the solo cellist who, with the aid of a recording device, played with herself (no pun intended), and sang at the same time, absolutely wonderful.
There were also workshops, and I joined the Ukulele one - I had never held a (an?) Ukulele in my hands before, but the three chords they taught us (five, if you were quick enough to spot the a minor and c7 one) seemed ridiculously easy. The workshop was led by the two people who also run the acoustic club at a local pub, and the woman who had spotted me the evening I was there - another wonderful evening of music, open mic night, every act got two songs each, lots of blues and singer/songwriter stuff, but also a violinist/guitar duo who did folk - had apparently told the guy about me ("This is the German girl I told you about", she said - nice to be called a girl again), and we had a chat about music and ukuleles and trying to find musicians to play with. It seems I've made some contacts today.
Anyway, the other workshop I joined was Samba drumming, where my tendency to keep the beat even standing between two kids who didn't got me a recommendation to join a Samba group (sadly, not in BiSto, so there's no way I can unless I get a car), and a spot on the team that did the routine in front of the audience. Yay!

Oh, and lest I forget, I had a great chat with my neighbour yesterday. He's a taxi driver, working nights, and I just wanted to ask if I am too loud (as if!), and if he could use a hand with the garden (it's a sort of communal garden, only he's the only one using it, really, all the building maintenance does is mow the lawn, and he's been digging up some soil and putting plants in. I offered to do the occasional weeding, and he seemed more than happy to let me do that.), and my simple questions resulted in a two-hour chat about gardens, politics, history, feminism, atheism... you name it.
Although I have no idea what his name is. We didn't exchange names. How very British.

It's so weird. In barely two weeks living in BiSto, I've had more music, culture and contacts than in 11 months living in London.

And I'll not do the cleaning today. I will come in tomorrow evening before going to the Half Moon again (for percussion evening), because I am completely exhausted and want to go home to curl up with a cup of tea. If I can make one before I fall asleep.