We've been in England for over a week now. The bluebells are still blooming in the woods; wisteria still hangs blue flowers from house walls and gable ends - although my botanical wife tells me they are fading.
There's always a hurdle or two to clamber over when shifting countries. We had heard opening a Bank account was one of the hardest and (guess what?) it is.
Yes, yes just your passports and a bit of paper tying you to the address you say you're at and that'll be acceptable said the young man who made us an appointment for the next day with a well known high street bank.
No, no, that's no use said the young lady the next day when we turned up sweating from the bus journey - did I mention Hertfordshire is 'enjoying' temperatures of 21,22,23,24? The passports are fine but the piece of paper - an invoice from Avis, wasn't. Since she was adamant that we could proceed no further we left the bank.
Still every cloud has a silver lining, eh? We went to Muffin Break - oh sorry did you think that was just a kiwi thing? - and had a flat white and a chocolate chip cookie.
Now, it was surely always hard getting money out of bank but putting money in?
When I got home I did a bit more research about the phrase money laundering that was mentioned in the bank conversation. Apparently the banks and building societies, all financial institutions have been charged with vigilance over alleged money laundering accounts. As usual the innocent are caught up in the safeguards or overkill as one reviewer commented.
Luckily we have money with us and can survive until we can satisfy our putative account giver that we are who we say we are and we live where we say we live and that'll be an end to it.
Cripes, there's me bus.