As I got out of my car at
work this morning I turned on all the geocaching stuff on my phone
(packet data, GPS, app, etc) just out of a sense of curiosity.
Sure enough, there was a geocache within five minutes walk of where
I'd parked my car. I got to within a metre of where I was told it
was, but I couldn't find it. I shall have to go back when I have a
little more time to look properly.
I looked this cache up on
geocaching dot com and the last chap to find it did mention that the
registered location was a bit out. I shall use that as my excuse for
failure and try again tomorrow.
I suspect that this might
be the case with quite a few geocaches. The technology will get me to
within a metre or so of the thing, and then it will be down to how
well I can search dependent on the vagaries of how well the thing's
location was logged in the first place. So far I've found two out of
the five that I've looked for.
Finding myself still
amazed by the entire concept of geocaching I called up geocaching dot
com and found that there are twenty four geocaches within a mile of
my house. Widening the search radius to two miles from my house
brought that total up to seventy three geocaches. There are five
geocaches within two miles of the Bat-Farm and thirty within a mile
of my mother's house. There are a few in Folkestone Warren, and one
or two within striking distance of the tunnels I occasionally go
exploring in.
I can see I have a little
project for the next few weeks.
Interestingly there are
only seven of the things within a mile of work, and only twenty six
within two miles of the place. I can only imagine that the denizens
of Canterbury look down their noses at the sort of puerile antics
that are popular with the lower orders.
Meanwhile back on more
mundane matters I popped into the minor injuries unit this morning.
Regular readers of this drivel may recall a rant from a few weeks ago
when I complained about my being utterly unable to get an appointment
with my G.P. I've now gone completely deaf in my left ear, and it has
a constant low dull throbbing sensation. The nice doctor in the minor
injuries unit seemed completely unfazed by my inability to see my
G.P. I got the impression that he was used to people not being able
get G.P. appointments. He peered into my lughole, and announced that
it was completely bunged up with earwax (yuk!) I rather
suspected that was the case, and he gave me a prescription for some
jollop to pour into the lug. A shame there was nowhere on the
hospital site where I could get that prescription, but such is
life...
No comments:
Post a Comment