Yesterday, as I’m about to go for a shower, I go downstairs to check if the boiler is on, the water hot – that’s one thing that London certainly does differently, unlike in Sydney where I just have hot water all the time – and I find my housemate peering into a tiny little hole on the front of the box.
“Hey mate, what’s up?”
“The little blue light… what do you call it?”
“The pilot light?”
“Yeah, yeah! It’s not there. I think that’s why the water isn’t warming.”
So yeah. No boiler. Approaching a London winter. The phrase “Up shit creek,” and “No paddle to speak of,” comes to mind.
Cold (perhaps freezing would be more appropriate?) shower this morning, no idea how long it’ll take to fix. Living in these temperate zones is so overrated. Give me sub-tropical or tropical any day.