Power Mad

It has been a very good day, today. One of those days when you think you have achieved something. When you think you deserve a beer at the end of it. When you can't stop smuggly smiling to yourself.

When I tell you what it is, you will probably say "Oh come on, it's not all that", but I tell you it has been a niggle and annoyance for 2 years now and finally it has been solved. I am right chuffed about it.

You see, the separate apartment has never had any power connected to it. There is a fusebox and wiring and all that other electricity stuff was there, but not the meter. The previous owner had the meter taken out. Why I don't know. Why not just turn it off and leave it for the next occupant. No. Gone. Removed. A little tag from EDF (French electricity company) left in it's place. Thanks very much.

Now if the meter had been there we could have just turned it on again and phoned EDF to let them know of a change of ownership - as we did with the main apartment. But no meter - well, large intake of breath - it will cost me €800 and an EDF electrical survey and probably a new fusebox and wiring, if it's not up to scratch, which it wouldn't be and well, frankly, bollocks to that.

So for the best part of two years it has sat there, powerless to be a living space. We weren't that bothered because we weren't going to use it immediately and we had so much work to do on the other bits of our hideaway in France. It served as a very useful storeroom for boxes of stuff that we had no more room for in England - having downsized, there, from a three storey Victorian terrace to a newly built shoebox of an apartment.

But that has all changed. Nowadays, I can't afford to have space sat around not contributing, so it has to provide income of some sort - holiday lets, for instance - and for that to happen it needs power. The problem was how to get it connected without spending a fortune or doing anything illegal or killing myself in the process - electricity being pretty dangerous stuff, especially when we are talking about mains connections!

For some time I had discussed the problem with my French registered, but English, lesbian electrician - not now, I'll tell you about her some other time. There were suggestions of drilling through walls and cables running across ceilings but to be honest those ideas didn't fit with the vision that my designer wife has for our beautifully appointed and tastefully decorated rooms.

Fortunately, I know a man who is a genius and a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to building work, which is no bad thing. He also happens to be a really good bloke and a mate and is currently living here with me to help me get all this work done - surely you didn't think I was doing this on my own? - credit where it is due. He's not a man to countenance unnecessary holes in walls and unsightly cables across ceilings, so he thought about it and he looked under this and behind that and above the ceiling and he found the mains supply to the apartment and he crawled into the space above the studio bathroom and cut the mains supply and reconnected it to the studio fusebox and lo and behold there was power in the apartment and there were fireworks exploding and champagne flowing and dancing girls.

Actually, the fireworks and champagne and girls bit didn't happen but it felt that good. Remarkably all the old lightbulbs still work and a two year itch has finally been scratched - hurrah!

Onwards and upwards (just like my EDF bills)