Ceri shocked us all by actually getting up first and going for a walk on the beach. This seems to me to be tantamount to a rejection of everything a holiday stands for but, everyone to his own!
There is nothing I like more than seeing others possessed by the devil which so often drives me: lust for a gadget. The gadget concerned was a coffee machine and our visitors have been impressed by the quality of the coffee produced by ours and so they want one.
I was more than pleased to drive them to St Boi to one of the superstores that line the edges of the motorway so that they could indulge their appetites and we could buy a birthday present for Toni’s nephew. Having gone to Gava yesterday and been almost overwhelmed by the acumen of the selling display of an earnest young Nespresso salesperson we knew what the base price and offer was and we were prepared to buy!
We did actually leave without purchase but extensive exploration of the Internet showed clearly that the price in MediaMarkt was (allowing for the value – I use the term loosely - of the pound and the offer of €50 worth of capsules) was exceptionally good.
Back to Gava and purchase. Brought home and extracted from its box the DeLongui Nespresso machine gleamed in all its “60s White” retro splendour. The splendid assistant in Gava also gave us a bag full of capsules, some stylish plastic cups and a leaflet which outlined the way in which we could claim our €50 worth of extra capsules.
During the course of a wonderful mariscada in the Maratimo later that night it was decided that the next morning would see us venture into Barcelona and the new shopping centre in the old bull ring to claim our rightful prize.
One problem we encountered was finding a place in the UK which actually sold the capsules. The marketing strategy of Nespresso is to make the machines readily available but the selling of capsules limited to a few so-called boutiques or “Temples” as I prefer to call them. It was impossible from using the web sites of various important stores to discover if they actually sold the capsules as well as the machines.
We eventually decided that Cardiff was bound to have a few shops which sold them and that anyway they would surely be available from the Internet.
Available – yes. But only if you were a member of the Club of Nespresso users! You have the idiotic situation of a store selling the machine, yet not selling the capsules which go into it and make the machine worth buying in the first place. There might be other make capsules available; but the real thing - no!
The faux-exclusivity of deliberately restricting supply while charging people for the inconvenience seem to be to be a marvellous piece of marketing: though slightly unreal at the same time because people will surely realize that they are being taken for a ride by smoothly operating, ruthless commercial robbers!
We, however, were firmly determined to go on our Pilgrimage of Grace to the fount of all true capsules in Barcelona.
At our predetermined time we gathered to make our final plans and to ensure that we had all the necessary information to ensure the easy acceptance of the Nespresso people of our right to extra free capsules.
Armed with a photocopy of the receipt, the offer form and the actual bar-code self-adhesive slip from the drip tray of the machine we set out by bus to gain our lawful prize.
Perhaps we should have been forewarned by the fact that neither of the generously offered T-10s from Ceri and Dianne worked in the bus and that we had to stand all the way to the centre of Barcelona.
The shop in the bullring is less a Temple than a well-appointed chapel for the worship of the coffee capsule.
Form, photocopy of receipt and bar-code were all offered up and peremptorily rejected. We had the wrong barcode number. Our offer to phone up Toni and get him to read out the correct one was also rejected: only the true cardboard would be accepted – no simulacrum would be tolerated. Our bleatings about having come all the way from the UK and then from Castelldefels fell on deaf ears and we faced the prospect of a return journey.
We almost pettishly refused a proffered cup of coffee to provide some small compensation for a wasted journey, almost but not quite and we were soon seated grumpily around a table under a translucently rodded light construction sipping our favourite tipples.
Having decided to go home and return we walked out towards the bus top and broke into various unconvincing attempts at running to get what looked like a 94 to get back home most expeditiously.
We stood all the way back too and were able to ponder the futile efforts of man when faced with the almost insuperable task of getting a Nespresso machine up and running!
In Castelldefels other possibilities presented themselves. Rather than presenting ourselves as miserable supplicants for the largess which had already been denied at the haughty store in Barcelona why not kill two birds with one stone and go, rather, to the shop in Terrassa where Toni had to be for the birthday of his nephew.
Galvanized by new hope based on the fact that we phone the central headquarters of Nespresso to find out if the offer could be realized in other shops in the area we sturdy four set out with pleasurable anticipation for the town of Toni’s birth.
Our arrival in the centre of the city was sombre because of the number of shops that were closed for the traditional lunchtime hours. As we walked through eerily quiet Saturday afternoon streets we became a little depressed at the thought that this journey too was going to be a wasted one.
But no! The shop was open and the rows of capsule filled boxes arranged with suffocatingly minimalist style quickened our expectations.
The salesperson had never heard of the offer of €50 worth of capsules with a new machine. The manager had never heard of the offer of €50 worth of capsules with a new machine. He would check.
Check done we were told that he would accept all our various bits of paper and cardboard and send them on to the relevant authorities and in due course we would probably get something.
This was not satisfactory. We showed clearly that this was not satisfactory. We were offered a cup of coffee. When in doubt, give them a coffee seems to be the Nespresso way of defusing any potentially embarrassing situation.
As Toni harangued the poor manager (a mere boy! And yes policemen do look too young to do their jobs) I refused the proffered coffee because I was dangerously near the “incandescent” setting on my personal anger-meter. Such a refusal is tantamount to spitting on the true cross in a Nespresso Chapel and caused a ripple of unease among the carefully dressed assistants.
Much later after more detailed discussions with the hierarchy of the movers and shakers in the upper echelons of Nespresso España there was a breakthrough and we were allowed to choose our selection of tubes.
I, for reasons I didn’t fully follow, was inducted into the Secret Society of the Nespresso Club and give a Socio number and a card. This allows me to buy capsules in the stores. I repeat, now that I am a member of the club I am graciously allowed to spend my money and buy the capsules without which the machine doesn’t work!
To cap it all we were then told that just because you were a member in Spain did not mean that you were a member worldwide. No, when Ceri and Dianne return to the UK they must strive to become members of the Club in the UK so that they are allowed the privilege of buying overpriced capsules of coffee from Nespresso! This marketing gone mad and having an on-going nervous breakdown.
All too soon (certainly after the excitement of actually getting our hands on coffee capsules) it is time to go out for the last evening meal before Ceri and Dianne go back home. It has only been a few short days, but it might be possible to go over to Cardiff for Ceri’s Private View, so not too long to see each other again.
No comments:
Post a Comment