The crab apples that I picked yesterday needed to be de-stalked and cut up before cooking. Over two kilo's worth, and a long fiddly job. After a morning walk around Thompson's Park, I finished what Clare had started, both before and after cooking lunch, with just the last mugful to finish off when we got back from our booster jab appointment.
Our appointments were at the Bay vaccination centre and we left in good time, following Google Maps instructions to the post code in the Sports Village area. We reached the road in question, but there was no signage to indicate where the centre is. There was just a wide open entrance gate to the site with a large No Parking notice, and traffic cones along the entry verges. From this vantage point the large warehouse in use wasn't visible. We'd learned earlier that the warehouse housed the 'Toys 'r Us' store which closed several years ago, but no signage remained to offer a clue to the identity of the place. And there was nobody about to ask. For anyone as unfamiliar with this part of Cardiff as we are, the total lack of signage was utterly reprehensible.
I concluded that we'd not found the right place and drove around through an area of anonymous blocks of buildings searching. In desperation, Clare phoned a friend who lives locally and had her booster jab earlier this week. It was easier to come and show us rather than instruct us, she said, and drove to meet us at the Morrison's supermarket filling station to guide us there. She too experienced the same difficulty finding the place, and thought instructions would make no sense to anyone unfamiliar with the area. It was so kind of her to come and show us the way. She led us back to the entrance where the sat-nav guided us and drove in, round a blind corner into a huge parking lot next to the huge warehouse that was our destination.
There was a short queue to register. It didn't matter that we were twenty minutes late. It seems delays and queues are normal, as people are being encouraged just to turn up, even if they don't have an appointment. Uptake of the booster jab hasn't been as fast as hoped for. The vaccination booths are numbered up to fifty and not all of them were in use when we were there. There was a waiting area with chairs to accommodate up to sixty at a time, with twenty people waiting. After just ten minutes, we were ushered into a cubicle together and interrogated by a recently retired doctor, a chatty Irishman. In twenty minutes we'd both been jabbed with the Pfizer booster vaccine and sent to the recovery zone beyond the waiting area. With seats facing the exit, and facing a wall clock, so we'd know when the required fifteen minutes wait before departure was over.
Everybody at the centre was friendly and helpful, but the total lack of signage utterly reprehensible. How many more people had the same difficulty finding the place as we did? The address and post code on the six pages of literature from NHS Wales couldn't have been clearer, perhaps an outline map graphic on one of the information sheets would have helped, but no road signs? An A-board with a chalk notice on it would have sufficed. How many people have been deterred from getting the jab by this totally avoidable omission? On reflection, a 999 call to the emergency services might have been effective, but a nuisance for them.
When we returned home I did the last mugful of crab apples and but them on the stove to stew for a few hours. Then after supper, Clare got out the straining bag and loaded with stewed fruits into it, and between us we hung the loaded bag from an upside down stool, dripping precious liquid into a bowl overnight. Then we settled down to watch a telly version of a P D James' novel in a new series called 'Dalgliesh' on Channel 5 - he's the detective who features in her stories. It's set in the mid seventies, making it a recent history drama. And so to bed.
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