Faff

I've made a lot of short trips over the past few weekends. England has enjoyed uncharacteristically sunny weather, and Yorkshire has plenty of places to visit within a day.

One such trip was to Hull, where the water was unbelievably blue. A quick search explained that the waters are treated with a dye that prevents algae and, as a secondary benefit, improves the look of the docks.

We also spent a day in Sheffield, where we were lucky enough to see a long sword dance festival. This past weekend we spent closer to home, exploring Roundhay and Meanwood Park. Next month we'll return to Manchester for another short trip, mainly to attend a concert but also because we finally found a Georgian restaurant that serves khinkali and khachapuri.

I really enjoy reading about the history any place I visit. A quick scroll through Wikipedia can give a decent overview, but some things can only be discovered in local sources. I found the answer to why Hull's water was blue, for example, in a community paper. Leeds is fairly good about this too; Plus Social gives great updates about changes in the city, and the Yorkshire Evening Post offers an alternative to UK-wide news.

But the ads are wild. If you're on your phone, take a scroll through this YEP article and count how many ads/popups/videos you see. It's unreadable, as are so many of the local paper website I've opened during our trips.

It's understandable. These places rely on ad revenue. But it's a shame that the experience is so negative that it makes supporting local journalism a slog. It makes it easier to just open the bigger names.

There's a commercial I've seen a few times now, where a man goes to recycle but finds that the process of sorting his stuff and finding the right bins is a nightmare. Cut to a tuna tin that can be easily separated into different materials so that doing the right thing becomes "faff free."

I love the word faff. Obviously, a faff-free life would be no fun at all; I enjoy fussing over my french press each morning to make my coffee in a little ritual. I like taking walks through trails that are slightly grown over. I like the repetition of threading needle after needle for a cross-stitch project. There's something nice about faff in the real world.

But for most online experiences, "faff free" is a good metric to aim for.