The umbella snags on a bundle of overhead power and telephone cables (of which Dege has many), and brings the whole lot crashing and sparking to the ground.
I escape electrocution by about a foot and half.
Whoever said that time-biding at 3500 metres was safer than cycling at 5000? (PG??)
The story has a happy ending though.
Rather than waiting for six weeks for a BT engineer to come out and suck his teeth, the truck driver climbed up onto the roof with a roll of electrical tape, and within five minutes the bright lights of Dege were glowing again.
So the box is now packed and ready to go. (once I buy a few more things today, as I ate all the mars and twix bars during a rather stressful edit) when do you think you'll be at the post office? I'm aiming to march down the postoffice at this end this week to get it under way.
ReplyDeletekind regards from darkest surrey