The local and much-loved ritual of ripping off the dumb foreigner reached its usual annual zenith with the delivery by some locals of our wood for this winter. Gone are the days when Ron trudged off up into the hills with a chainsaw, jerrycan of petrol and can of chain oil. Sod that for a game of soldiers. Firstly, the consignment was to be seasoned oak and ash. The trailer had been bulked up with poplar. Then, where was the print out from the public weighbridge for the trailer weight? Much scratching of heads whilst staring at the ground and grunting.
Looks like I may have to get the chain saw out of storage not only to menace the peasants but also to chop down some of the Combo timber for next year. It never ends.