I AM writing to recount a circumstance which makes me despair of the state of things in this country. Preparing and addressing my Christmas card on Saturday I found I had about eight addresses for which I did not know the post codes. Fired with enthusiasm for efficiency I rang the number for post codes to obtain them. After a few rings I was answered by a disembodied voice lecturing me on helping the post office at this, their busiest time of year, by addressing my correspondence clearly with a correct post code. This was followed by an extremely long wait, during which the same voice broke in every ten seconds or so with the same lecture. I held on for what seemed like half an hour, although it was probably only ten minutes or so, and was eventually answered by a charming, polite young man, Asian I should think by the voice. ?Oh, good? I exclaimed, ?I have about eight post codes I need.? ?I?m terribly sorry? he replied, ?I?m only allowed to give three at a time?, I got my three and that was that. As I do not have access to the web, I then rang my son to ask him to contact the website which the disembodied voice had kept repeating to me. He got on to it immediately, only to find that to get any codes I would have to fill in a complicated form. Becoming increasingly frustrated by the minute, I rang the post codes number again (it was now Sunday). Once again the same female voice answered and gave me the same lecture, needless to say running up my telephone bill. When the lecture was over ? which by now I almost knew by heart ? she finished by informing me that the offices were closed now, following this with another long, expensive lecture on when they were open. Can you credit it! So I shall just have to post my five remaining un-post coded cards un-post coded. Mrs J N Fogwill Genista Chapel Street Tavistock
