A not-so-instant transfer
Ever watched one of those Hollywood blockbusters, where the hero sits at the computer terminal, types in a few digits and whisks a fortune around the globe to a secret bank account? Based on our afternoon, it has little to do with reality. Moving money is much harder “in real life”.
Today, we confirmed the wish list and agreed to make a symbolic deposit on the dream. Living in a tent, the kind of cash required was not “on hand”; this was time for electronic transfer. However, despite a Swiss Army knife of applications and web addresses, a series of telephone calls to make sure of the protocol and the necessary “transit numbers”… nothing happened. Finally, our institution suggested using the debit card routine. Pack up the vehicles and move 20km north to a branch office. Still no joy.
After far too long, someone in the banking system figured out the problem. We had eaten breakfast this morning.
The day also saw us at the well drillers. Alone. Forty minutes in their lobby and not a soul on site. Almost spooky. I did get to see the inside of a well head (demo unit on display) and read ALL the brochures from the water furnace supplier. Turned out to contain a lot of boilerplate and little information on the real question: pricing. We shifted over to a local coffee shop and waited for the morning timer to run out. Just before noon, the wellies were back and we were able to get our questions answered BEFORE going on to the house store to complete the associated details.
