How To Get Lost.

Trying to be clever, I have entitled this post 'Get Lost'. Why? Well, this is a rant about my bank called Getin Bank. Very clever, eh?

After listening to people for far too long expressing their fears that we will basically all be screwed when we retire because of the predicted pitiful pension funds, I decided to set up my own pension fund. My plan was to open a savings bank account and set up a monthly direct transfer of an affordable sum of money from one account to another, the second of which, I planned to not touch until retirement or in the case of a really, really, extreme, extreme situation, which does not include holidays, music gear or anything like that.

So, I went to the bank, where I was well assisted and returned home ready to begin this sensible operation, but when I logged in, I could not see this new account.

The next day, I went back to the bank and was informed that perhaps my online banking system needed to be updated. The guy told me he had done something to make it work but that I should go home and check it and return the next day if nothing had changed.

Guess what? I had to return the next day. This time I had to sign some forms in order to change my account to a more modern version that I was informed was much easier to use than the old one. It all sounded great so I returned home once again and logged into my new account ready to set up my pension savings scheme. When I logged in, I now saw that my account had become an empty corpse. My balance had been erased and there was no information that this account was alive and well except that which told me where it is I live.

Since then I have been in correspondance with my bank by email and have been informed on a daily basis that everything will be fixed soon. It has been over one week since I began, what I believed would be a very easy, straightforward process but instead of beginning a very mature and sensible scheme, I now have no money in my online account, no account number, no record of any transactions but at least I know where I live.

Time to Settle Down or Not?

I chanced upon a blog entry today in which the writer received an email from a friend advising him to 

'come on home and get back to an ordinary life, because you don’t want to be out there when you’re old'.

It really got me thinking once more about what it means to 'settle down' and what does it mean to not do so.

I like to think that we have more opportunities nowadays to do more than we had in the past. Age limitations have less of an impact on us and I'm often really inspired by those who go back to university at a later age. When taking part in organised runs in Krakow, what amazes me is the fitness of some contestants who are at least twice my age but still manage to finish way ahead of me. Retired people who travel and are not afraid to rough it also alleviate my fears that old age simply involves waiting around to die.

Back to my main point, what does it mean to 'settle down'. The writer of the blog says that he has chosen an 'extraordinary' life ahead of an 'ordinary' one and this is why he continues to travel and not root himself to one place. I don't feel I can't totally agree that this is an 'extraordinary' life. It certainly is interesting and he is privileged to able to do this. Being in the one place your whole life can also be 'extraordinary'. There are many benefits to this. Stability is one, the chance to build and continuity are others. 

I think we generally have more options and are more fluid because of this. We have more information and more of us don't know where we will be next week never mind next year.
Is there an age when we should settle down and have a family or is there more than one time in which we can do this? I am of the opinion that it is all relative to who you are, who you meet and what you want. I certainly don't want to feel limited by my age in any way and try to maintain an optimistic outlook on where I am currently am and recently have been really trying to look at future changes as new challenges to better myself and not as the means to run from problems. 

This post has been written in Oxford where I am working for a summer school. It has been heavily influenced by meeting people from all over the world. It hasn't been edited or even reread but if you are interested in reading the post that inspired it, click on the link below. 

The Professional Hobo Blog Link

Exploring Tunnels

Today, under the guidance of my brother, I explored a tunnel on the Irish coast in the town of Dalkey. Earlier we explored the island but today we went underground for the sake of some photos. This tunnel is connected to a castle 75 metres away from the entrance and was so dark inside that it was easy for the mind to conjure up strange and unnerving images in what seemed like an endless distance ahead. The entrance was quite small and we were a little afraid that the tide would rise trapping us inside the narrow tunnel. I was happy to get out of it alive. Earlier that day I took some much more pleasant photos of the town I work in - Bray.

Coastal Trip

The sea is something that is strange to see having been living in the south of Poland for so long. In Dublin the vast blue Irish sea is not too far away and Dalkey island is a place I had never been to. The coastal areas of Dublin are very different from anything in the city. Places like Dalkey and Blackrock are like small villages with their own unique atmospheres. Dalkey especially is a place I had never been to before but only heard about as it is famous for being where Bono lives or at least has a house. My brother and I took the train (DART) out there and a boat to the island which contains the ruins of a tower built in preparation of an attack by Napoleon which never materialised. It is also the home to the ruins of a 7 - 10 th century church and another fortress. Goats live there as well as many squawking seagulls. I didn't venture too close as they were well armed.
The weather was also amazing. It's amazing that I get sunbrnt here and not in Europe. Fortunately I used suncream beforehand and only suffered from a small strip of sunburn near my wrist.

Back with the Leprechauns

It has been a while since I wrote anything here and I suppose it needed a change of surroundings to inspire new thoughts which I feel like sharing with the world out there. My brothers obsession has moved on from abandoned factories to abandoned castles and other such ruins. It has also taken hold of my parents so my first day back involved tracking down such old bricked ruins some of which are amazingly right next to housing estates.
Of course there were the usual 'Private Property' signs but how can people own such places which are part of our cultural heritage?
Walls and fences were scaled enabling us to snap away at such of these eerie buildings which have long since fallen into neglect. The best preserved is a lead mine which was only missing a few steps and this was perhaps to deter stupidity.
We probably traipsed on numerous graves in the process of adding to our photographic archives but at least these people will be remembered in more ways than one.