Learning the Ropes – all over again – and why it took so long to get back on the trail

Having everything go wrong has its upside. The tramps were in Miami hoping to sort out a new home (you remember the badly delayed delivery of an apartment, the unacceptable view once it was ready and the need to find an alternative) and as a result managed to be there for an event the trampess had promised to co-chair which otherwise might have proven to be badly mis-scheduled , requiring a hasty flight back from another part of the world to fulfil her obligation. (it is always good, though not necessarily critical to be at an event one is hosting). Notwithstanding there were a few minor problems, after all the trampess had been asked to co-chair the event since she was expected at the time of the event to be a local (which by this time you can see she wasn’t), but there is nothing quite like agreeing to introduce college friends to an insider’s view of the art scene in Miami to encourage one to learn quite quickly what an insider’s view is. Following a Bismarckian approach to learning she called out for help. Luckily help was forthcoming in the form of helpful NY art dealers (who did know the Miami art scene, as you would expect, being New Yorkers) and more importantly the Miami mother I had always needed but never had (introduced by her real daughter), not to mention a co-chair who knew the area and had lots of ideas. Rule 1: always work with people who are better, know more, and can do excel spread sheets in their sleep. Rule 2: if you find a good mother keep her and always follow her advice. Rule 3: initially unappealing art can be hugely interesting if explained by people who are knowledgeable and like it. And thus an outsider became an insider and failure turned to success.

Returning to London and expecting to be able to move into the main set at Albany turned out to be another of those misplaced hopes, slightly (well perhaps more than slightly) redeemed by having a favourite actor smile good morning at your trampess as she walked along Albany’s rope walk on her arrival. Face it, having a resident actor smile at you on a nearly daily basis goes a long way to making living in a very small, but completely re-furbished from Gosford Park state, upper set palatable (one hotplate, a large bed, a small sofa, a computer; true, a proper shower and under floor heating helped as well – of course the builders had turned off the heating to save the trampess money while she was in Miami so sleeping under a duvet fully dressed with a coat on top of the duvet so the first night wasn’t quite ideal – the trampess does know how to send the sort of SMS that gets the builders round quite early in the morning though so the next night proved to be rather better). Not the same though as living in the large, high-ceilinged rooms of the main set. It is also a well know fact that being on a building site daily does inspire builders to hustle, in the case of the tramp’s builders, hustling is not the issue, it is showing up. If they show up, they work. Showing up oneself seems to be the key to persuade them to do the same. And once again, having a fixed arrival date for the carpets and the furniture seemed to cause an increase in the number of men on site, though some remained for some time after, carpet and furniture arrival notwithstanding. A celebration dinner party did not occur, but the carpet was laid and the furniture was delivered, and dearly beloved friends who introduced to Albany (thus saving our lives) came round for a glass of champagne. (Did I mention, that tramp 4 had hoped to move into the upper set at the same time as the tramps? Or that tramp 3 and GF were also arriving? And strangely they all hoped to stay in the family home? Ah well, just another small complication that had to be sorted out and that became more complicated before it became simpler. But then, that is how it always happens if Einstein is to be believed).

(I won’t mention the small matter of the shower – beautifully designed and just off the bedroom – a walk in wet room. The tramp had carefully instructed the shower designer on the slope of the floor of the shower to make sure that the water drained properly and the bedroom carpet would never be in danger. The shower experts, thinking that they were shower experts, assured the tramp that he was really out of his depth – a word they might well regret using given what happened – went ahead as they intended ignoring the tramp’s advice. After a hard day moving furniture and unpacking boxes, the tramp thought a shower before Gillian Tett’s lecture on the collapse of the financial system was in order. When the trampess went into the bedroom to see why they tramp wasn’t ready and it was, of course, time to leave, she was rather distressed to see him wrapped in a towel on the bed mobile phone to ear unleashing a stream of invectives that are not appropriate for me to relate here. Let’s just say that turning off the shower quickly and throwing a towel on the floor where the shower floor and carpet met prevented the bedroom from being flooded. The trampess went alone to the lecture. Luckily wine was on offer. The rest I leave to your imagination.)

The picture hanging was another story, but as tramp 4 is an aspiring artist, he was put in charge of the picture hanger whom the trampess had never met and who could only come after the tramps had left to resume their gypsy life. It always pays to have lunch with brilliant girl friends with large houses and even more children than the tramps – they need so much help just to survive, they have a solution to every problem. In the case of picture hanging, a solution was handed to the trampess over the second glass of wine and a wonderful risotto and the “come back and see how spendidly the paintings in the two storey hall stairwell are hung” was not an invitation to decadence (after all it was a girl friend, and the mother of 5) but a chance to see the work of a man whose judgement could be trusted with the most complex problems (if this man were in politics instead of picture hanging the world would be at peace). That left the trampess and tramp 4 (who made some quite creative suggestions), to merely allocate paintings to rooms and grant the magician the scope to determine positioning (remember the trampess had once aspired to be an art historian, so we are not talking 2 paintings per room). The trampess had, of course, hoped that this brilliant, talented man would help before she had to leave, but unfortunately (this tends to happen to brilliant, talented men) he was off to Paris to hang 800 (!) paintings for a client – rather more than one day’s work. Explaining this all to the tramp required more than one attempt, (is there only one person in London who can hang pictures??) but the pictures are hung and the second home is close to feeling like one, at least so tramps 3, 4 and GF asserted. Tramp 4 dutifully acted as the House and Garden photographer and sent the tramps an email of the results. He was quite pleased.

The tramps received the photos in their new WLW. I have already hinted that marquee II is vastly superior to marquee I, as comfortable as it was. I also mentioned the 6 ring binders (which were not available on day 1 just to make the use of equipment that much more challenging) full of instructions in virtually all languages from Indo-European to Asian and a few others as well. Bigger, better and more luxurious is ,in the end, better, of course, but it sometimes takes awhile to be sure that that is so. It is decidedly better not to have to remember to turn the water pump on and off when one wants to use water. It was not at all difficult to remember that I didn’t have to remember the pump, it came quite naturally. Other things were not quite so straightforward. The generator was not difficult to master, and it caused a bit of mirth one day when the tramps had guests to lunch and the generator had to be switched on in order to turn on the Nespresso machine. It did seem extravagantly excessive - one can imagine Katherine Hepburn saying, “Darling, give me a generator, would you?” in the Philadelphia Story, so being able to deliver that throw away line was quite fun. While the generator is relatively easy (one large switch, hold down until it catches – rather like the ignition in a car), the circuit board is a model of intricacy, delicacy and precision German labelling and as long as you know words like Licht: befahreseite, Decke vorne, relaisverteiler 10A (and that’s only one of 28) then everything is really very clear. Luckily this is not the trampess’s area of remit.

Sadly, the televisions and the wi-fi (which are) were neither straightforward nor amusing. After multiple instruction sessions from the foreman in charge of our WLW, and each time adding notes in the iPhone to remind me, I thought I could at least turn the bedroom television on, if not quickly find my favourite channels. Ha! Each time I thought I had it, something went missing - mostly the picture. No pressure of course with the World Cup on and the German team performing much better than expected. Eventually, after several days and much mirth on the part of my instructor, I seemed tolerably competent. (no German games were missed). Nonetheless, and for other more important reasons, we remained in the factory grounds for some weeks – it is never wise to cut the umbilical too quickly. It is well known in the trade that those who drive away on the day their vehicle is ready usually resell quickly, have a nervous breakdown, or have very high telephone bills. With the WLW the ultimate hedge in the case of a total collapse of the global economy, option one was not acceptable, option 2 is clearly very costly, and option 3 seems wasteful). Besides, living in a factory by day and on the side of a country road by night (the factory gates are locked at night and no one can be locked inside – Germans have very strict health and safety rules) can be instructive, educational and amusing.

If the television took days, the wi-fi took weeks and several conversations between our London geek and the German ones, with the tramp in the middle as the only one remotely capable of handling the interchange. At one point it was even assumed hackers had broken in and changed all the password links to the server (and indeed the server name itself – not just identity theft, identity switch!). I felt like M when she discovered Bond and broken into her computer – except it wasn’t Bond. Not good, but happily since the tramps were just about to cut the cord, but hadn’t, the only inconvenience was staying put a little longer.

Apparently, it is possible, with a small load to have the washer/dryer do both operations with one instruction. Armed with German/English dictionary, your trampess still has not figured this out. Nor has she figured out how to interrupt a one time fits all drying cycle. The tramp refuses to look at the manual (he finds them, on the whole, as clearly written as I do, and as we each have specialities and washing machines are not in his remit . . . . ) so at the moment the drying is probably not as green as it could be and a wash put on at the beginning of a hike will not be dry at the end. Perhaps, when I pass through London next, a stop at Harvey Nichols and a quick skim of the instruction manual in English will reveal the keys to efficient operation. In the meantime, the trampess rejoices that she has figured out how to dry the sheets when the sun is hiding.

I will save moving in day for another time, let’s just say it would seem intuitively obvious that moving from a small vehicle to a large one would present no difficulties. Intuition is not always right.