And you can't use the lift if there's a fire

Alarms. Evacuations. Blackouts. A lack of running water. Third world country? No. Orion's Point.

I just got back from a false fire alarm. Yet another one. In this instance, we were half-way down the six flights of stairs when the alarm stopped. *groan*. Then we walked back up to our rooms; some of us disgruntled by sleep disturbance, others by the all too familiar inconvenience.

The previous false alarm I experienced was only on Tuesday. I was walking home from work and, having turned the corner, saw flashing red and blue lights coming from the courtyard in front of Orion's Point. As I approached the building, I saw the lights belonged to two fire engines. Half a dozen firemen were milling about, and there were crowds of residents standing outside in the cold. I approached a girl from my block and asked what was going on. "Burnt toast," she replied cynically. Once given the all clear, we went back inside. I rode the lift up and the girl explained that it wasn't the first time something similar had happened. "It happens all the time," she sighed, "at least twice last year - if not more." She got off at the third floor and I wished her a good evening. I rode the rest of the journey in a gloomy silence.

But false alarms, though annoying and inconvenient, are not exactly detrimental. A lack of electricity, heat and running water, however, is. One evening a few weeks back, the lights suddenly went out in my room and my laptop reverted to using it's battery. I went outside to the kitchen and asked Din what was going on. He had just finished cooking dinner and was about to sit down and eat it. "A blackout". To make sure, we checked the refrigerator and other appliances. Sigh. Then Din went to get a glass of water. No running water. We decided to investigate. We left our flat and went down the corridor. The corridor was lit up by emergency lighting. We walked down the six flights of stairs and were greeted by an ear-piercing siren on the ground floor. Sigh.

We met a Spanish guy from our same floor and got to talking. Apparently all the blocks were out of power and the building was being powered by an emergency generator. There was no running water because the pump that brought water to the higher floors would not be functioning. Thus, with no desire to return to our dark flat, we stood in the foyer and waited to see what would happen. Eventually, tired of talking and standing around, we ended up walking up the six flights of stairs back to our flat. The power came on a few hours after they had gone out. Crisis over. For now.

Then there was the time after that when a strange smell was coming from behind the "mystery" door at the end of our corridor. JT smelt it first because his room was the closest to it. The stench smelt of burning rubber. It smelt toxic. We called security and someone came up to inspect it. Unable to actually unlock the door (as apparently there was no key for it) he trialled a variety of objects (forks, spoons, knives) before opening it. Behind the door was the water heater. The smell was intense. My guess was that the rubber insulation was melting or something. Anyway, the guy told us that he would need to turn it off and that we would not have hot water that night. By this stage we just shrugged our shoulders and gave an all too familiar nod.

So what's next in store for the residents of Orion's Point? Gas leak? Termites? Flooding? Stay tuned!

Goodbyes

Here are some photos from last night's trip down to the waterfront to farewell the Queen Elizabeth 2 (QE2). This famous ship made it's final ever journey from Southampton and is headed for the warm waters of Dubai. There, it will be transformed into a floating "palace" of some kind - a luxury hotel, casino or the like. It's engine will be ripped out, and with it many years of British pride and history.

Despite this, the occassion was a joyous one: another milestone, another "once in a lifetime" moment. Thousands of people pushed their way to the seafront to catch a glimpse of this magnificent ship. Din and I somehow made it through the crowd but struggled to get a good position. We waited. At first there was nothing but the dark sea and anticipation. Then the fireworks exploded against a black sky and the crowds cheered as they basked in their glow. The ship slowly approached the shoreline, a mere plume of silver smoke, then a red funnel then a golden raft of lights. She was large, impressive, majestic. There were flashing bulbs, applause and waving hands and union jacks. A real buzz. The BBC reporter interviewed a loyal spectator, a fellow Aussie, who had travelled all the way from back home just to view this special sight. Now that's dedication.

The QE2 rounded the waters off Mayflower Park where we were standing, and slowly headed back past the docks and into the blackness of the night. As the crowds slowly dispersed, we made our way forward to the metal railing and looked out to sea. The air was cool, crisp, refreshing. There was a full moon.

We then had a wander around. There was a funfair in full swing, with music and rides and flashing lights. There were stalls selling funfair food and vendors selling glow sticks, plastic bunny ears, union jack flags and other novelties.

We stopped and watched a group of fire-wielding street performers. They danced with the flames, their confidence and skill protecting them from any fear of getting burnt.

Then it was onwards to the end of the park where there was a stage setup and a band playing. They were a group of Beatles impersonators, and they played some classic Beatles hits. One that stuck out to me was Lady Madonna. It reminded me of a Belgian guy I met in a hostel in Freiburg, Germany. He had brought on his travels with him a "baby" guitar, and was constantly playing it. One song he played repeatedly was Lady Madonna. He was an odd person, slightly dopey and all, but he played the guitar really well. I could have listened to him for hours - and I did. He was the guy I hiked through the Schwarzwald (Black Forest) with. But that's for another post.

Anyway, we listened to a few songs then headed back home. It was a nice night out for a Tuesday.