Please allow me to introduce you to the most expensive disposable razor in the world that I am going to cherish until it goes blunt. You see, being male, and thus not having the ability to multitask or carry out very basic instructions without swearing profusely about how "real men don't read manuals" I decided in my infinite and ever so superb wisdom that I would buy a razor once I got away.
What's the point in rushing around buying the things in the UK when you're going to somewhere that is cheap. Sadly, in my haste, I forget to factor in the classic "tourist tax". That's the tax that
takes the approach of "oh you need something, we know you really need it, we know you're in a country where you don't speak language, please give me the shirt off your back and I will consider selling it to you".
A fiver that bloody thing cost. I am vaguely reminded of the episode of the Young Ones where they are appearing on University Challenge and have to get a train. Viviene gets some cups of tea and tells Rick it cost a fiver. "Five pounds for an empty paper cup?" says Rick. "Well it had sugar in it" is the response. Of course I don't begrudge them fleecing me, it's quite a poor country really, and membership of the EU doesn't seem to have helped them very much. Funny that.