Parking your phone number for a few years while you roam the world

When we decided to up and move to France we cancelled our cell phone plans and liberated our phones for use in France. Here's some details on how we did this, as I found it quite complex, not so much in the doing but trying to decide how best to manage this process.

- Google Voice. Rather than just terminate our lines I ported the numbers to Google Voice. This has a big benefit in that I can still get messages that call in to the old number while here using the google voice app. The phone doesn't "ring" of course but at least I can take a message and call people back. The other benefit is that this number stays with me so when I return to the USA I can port it back to whatever phone plan I take out when I return. It'll be as if I never left. 

- The process of porting is done online on the google voice website. Note that doing it will terminate your current phone plan so if you are still paying off your phone under contract you will face early termination fees. Check with the phone company first as to how much this is and you'll get it billed in your final bill once the port is done. The process or porting takes about 24hrs exactly. Your phone will be no signal and you'll need a new SIM card to use it. We did this just before leaving so it died on our last day in the USA. You may need to take an extra step of unlocking the phone by calling the telco but we found this was unnecessary for us and the foreign SIM cards we put in in france worked immediately. 

- When you arrive in France (or wherever) sign up for a new plan. The one I chose in france was with SFR and I went for a 1yr contract, 16GB data, free calls and free roaming in Europe. It was expensive - €129pm - but worth it as I travel a lot for work. This way I can call anywhere in the world for free basically - both calls to and from other countries - although calling mobiles in other countries when in other countries seems to attract per min charges. I can use data in Europe free of charge, and 1GB per month in the USA when I travel there. 

- Note that the data provided per month is generous (8GB, 16GB) - when you actually run out it just slows your connection rate, doesnt charge you more money, which is nice.

- Other plans are around €40 per month and the restriction is you get 8GB of data outside of france for the year.  Once done you have to buy travel packs to cover data charges.

- Buying an iphone with a plan in France seem a lot more expensive than USA. An iPhone 5c was €399 plus the plan rate jumped to €100 per month (from 40) so I decided to buy a used unlocked phone in the USA and bring if back here when upgrading from a 4s. 

- SFR coverage seems good but spotty. Traveling through france I experienced frequent disconnections and flaky signal problems. Flipping it into airline mode and back our would sometimes give me a 3G data connection again but it would often flake out, killing my ability to hold a call and navigate using my map at the same time.  In Paris its excellent though, just an issue in the country.

The Saga of the Mirror

Ikea is a wonderful company. They make furniture which is cheap, functional and although somewhat of a pain to put together, stylish in a Swedish kind of way. One of their most popular products is a 5ft tall mirror, stylishly called the STAVE.

We are a big fan of AirBnB. It’s a website that lets you rent properties that the owners typically live in, but want to rent out for some cash while they spend their time in foreign lands, or at their boyfriend/girlfriends place doing unmentionable things that are illegal in Arkansas. Our initial stay in Paris was at one such apartment, of a lovely gentleman that we will never meet called Song - yes Song and STAVE do go together. Song was away in Vietnam at the time, and graciously and in return for many thousands of Euros rented his place to us.

Song was also a fan of the STAVE mirror, and proudly had one in his apartment. However his placement was not to our liking, and we moved it to our bedroom. Unfortunately a gust of wind ripped through the open window, causing the door to slam closed, dislodging the mirror from its place against the wall, and SMASH – no more STAVE.

We thought about acknowledging the incident with Song, but decided the cost of replacement was probably cheaper than the hassle we would get – and besides dealing with a mirror replacement from Vietnam probably was a lot of hassle for our man. We tried to repair it, but like all Ikea products, replacement is cheaper than reparations. While Ikea is great, one of the ways they keep the cost of their products low is to put their stores in the suburbs. So one day I took the train out to Ikea, walked a mile, walked another mile through the maze that is an Ikea store, and located the mirror. I bypassed the Swedish meatballs, walked a mile back to the train station with said mirror, and brought it back to the apartment. Let me tell you, walking through Metro turnstiles with a 5ft tall mirror is not easy. I might have used the F and C words a few times.

So we now have a gleaming replacement mirror in the apartment. I told everyone if they placed it near the door and it broke that I would throw them off the balcony, and proceeded to think about the next step – getting rid of the broken one.

The apartment building has a trash room that smells like Grade A Pig Farmers Ass. Little did we know how proud of their ass smelling garbage room the French are. A team meeting was held and we decided putting the broken mirror in a large bag to ensure no glass would escape, and placing it in the Ass room would be sufficient to have it disposed of. We did this, and relaxed and watched the World Cup confident the mirror episode was behind us. Little did we know the embers of indignity had been lit.

The first sign of trouble was a notice near the entrance to the building. I couldn’t translate the French writing, but the word MIROIR and IMMEDIATMENT and PROBLEME made sense. Apparently ass smelling rooms are not for disposing of broken mirrors. The person who left the mirror was to report to the Guardien immediately – supposedly for an immediate execution by guillotine. Additional signs started appearing – in the elevator. People were bringing out their post it notes and adding on to the dismay. This was turning ugly.

My instinct was to say “F you Im leaving, your problem”, but on the day of departure a feeling of responsibility overtook me. It might also have been the fact that it was 8am on a Sunday, and there was no one around. I took the elevator to the basement to see what carnage we had wrought. The mirror was there – nicely wrapped in bubble wrap. I grabbed it and bolted for the elevator. My accomplice Jenny was there – we maintained radio silence. The door opened, she took the right flank opening the doors to the outside world, I ran for the high ground and we successfully smuggled the mirror out of the building. I had rented a van for the getaway, and put the mirror in there. We high fived as we returned to the building – only to realize in our eagerness at subterfuge we’d forgotten the keys upstairs. The girls were still asleep, so we called Vanessa who meekly answered “hello” with a lower case h as she woke up. 

My plan was to leave the mirror in the van and turn the problem into a rental agency one. Europcar had kept me waiting for 2hrs on pickup because of a ridiculously long line at Gare de Lyon, so I figured payback was fair. We parked the van in the garage (underground) and due to the volume of shit we were taking with us on our trip to Cannes I had to make multiple trips to the van. Eventually it was empty, except for the albatross – the mirror. I took it out and hid it in front of another van. Better it not be traced to us.

So if you see a large mirror, in bubble wrap, carelessly discarded in an underground parking garage in Paris, its not ours.

Italian coffee is better than French coffee

"This is customs. You musta stop" said the Carabinieri guy after I nearly collected him at the Swiss/Italy border post. These border things are a huge pain in the ass. I stated in Cernobbio just outside of Como and was commuting to Lugano this week crossing into and out of Switzerland all week. The border guys are inconsistent. One moment they are smoking and cars are making cursory efforts at stopping, other times it's the 3rd degree. The main topic seems to be money - how much are you transporting. Images of Wolf of Wall Street with millions strapped to their bodies come to mind. 

This really is a beautiful place. The riche are obviously pushing everyone else out but there is a very relaxed vibe in these parts. Lugano was lovely - high mountains diving down into placid lakes. 

Italian coffee is undoubtedly the standard by which all coffee should be judged. Interestingly there is only one type of Italian coffee. No French roast this, Guatemalan that - just plain coffee. I was toying with the idea of cutting back but after this week I'm reevaluating. Oh and a culture tip. Italians think drinking coffee with milk in the afternoon or after dinner is "disgusting". Heavy, not good. Hence a cafe (espresso) in the afternoon but not a latte or cappuccino. Those are morning drinks. 

Riding here was a treat. The Madonna del Ghisallo ride was magical. The Passo del Mortirolo was just a ridiculously steep challenge. My climbing legs are back - the pace is lacking but the strength is there. 

Mist hanging in the valley near the Mortirolo. 

Lugano

Meat on a big stick. 

The Marco Pantani memorial

A lakeside villa

Lake Como

Ah Paris. Pianos and trains.

It's been many years since I wrote in this blog but time for a new adventure to be documented. Especially the logistics of this one which are daunting. We have moved to Paris and using it as a base for my work in sales. 

Pianos. 

There are pianos in Charles de Gaulle airport, Gare du nord, London Pancreas stations and likely numerous other transport hubs. There's nothing more beautiful than listening to someone with skill playing the piano, and having then publicly accessible like this in places where you are trying to get somewhere else is magical. Forgetting for a moment the job if going somewhere and simply enjoying a human pleasure - music. 

Eurostar. 

There is security on entry to the boarding area that is the equal of airport security. I'm not against it but it's worth noting that if you think the train is quicker your likely wrong. It's more convenient to train into the city rather than have an airport transfer but the mechanism of using it is roughly the same as flying. 

London Underground. 

It's £4.50 for a single paper ticket. That's much more expensive than the Paris metro. It drops to £2 and change with the Oystercard but trying to work that baby out in a station at peak hour is a challenge. 

Paris Metro

There is a "Paris metro" app which is great but why the heck don't they put end points on their routing instructions!  To take the metro place to place you need to map out where you are, which lines you will take, and which station they terminate at. Eg. Line 1 towards La Defense or Chateau de Vincennes. Which direction you go depends which side of the platform you stand on. Important to know the direction so you can navigate to where you want to end up.