Moscow’s really wet.

It snowed all week, but above-minus temperatures meant the accumulated snowfall from the winter was melting. Everywhere. The pavements and streets are filled with cracks and potholes, so all the meltwater collects and gets muddy. Every single car – from the humblest Lada to the mightiest Merc – is plastered with an inch of mud up to the windows.

I saw all the usual tourist places: the incredible, reconstructed Cathedral of Christ the Saviour - the 105 metre-high dome painted with a breathtaking fresco of God and all his angels – is well worth a visit, and not even the half-dismantled ice rink could stop Red Square from being impressive. It’s bookended by the red stone of the State Historical Museum and the famed onions of St Basil’s Cathedral, which is much smaller than I expected – it looks like you could scoop it up into a snowglobe – but still a breathtaking sight.

Hyperreal, like a fairytale palace. There are lots of Koreans, and tourists from the former USSR. Then there’s the Kremlin - pretty much the biggest city wall I’ve ever seen. If St Basil’s looks tiny, it’s because the Kremlin walls are gigantic, enclosing a massive wad of government buildings.

Opposite the Kremlin is the beautiful GUM department store, now home to hundreds of boutiques with enormous prices.

When I was young we had a book called something like “How Do They Live In The USSR?” (it’s bizarre to think that for the first few years of my life, the USSR wasn’t just in history books) and I strongly remember two facts I learned about the Soviet Union:

1. they stir jam and honey into their tea
2. there is a massive department store called GUM, the biggest in the world

We visited GUM, and I remembered the tiny picture of the arched glass ceiling in that book. Milka and I had lunch at a branch of Kofe Haus. I had tea with honey and a blintz (meat wrapped in a pancake), which were both delicious.

Drunks are very well behaved in Moscow. Of course, alcoholism’s a huge problem, but all I could see young people kept themselves to themselves, and the older drunks just lay down in Metro stations chatting or sleeping it off. Russians know how to behave themselves with alcohol. This is something you do not see in Leeds.

We went to bars like Papa’s Place and Pirogi, quite funky and bohemian. Papa’s Place had a bar area upstairs where you could actually talk without being drowned out by music, and reasonably priced drinks (Moscow’s not as cheap as I expected). If anyone made too much noise the owner – I hear he’s Canadian? – would go over to shut them up. Occasionally there would be a ritual where a drinker would down a litre of beer, wearing a metal helmet, while a member of staff hit them on the head repeatedly with a bat. Standard. Downstairs is a long, thin dance floor with decent tunes.

We walked back to our hostel in the wee hours of the morning. It actually felt quite safe. Halfway we stopped at a Kofe Haus for a quiet coffee, and I pondered what atmosphere a 24-hour cafe would have in Britain at 3am. After standing in a depopulated Red Square, a stray dog joined our party, and walked with us for thirty minutes back to the hostel – before spotting another mutt and chasing after it, barking. Standard.

Russia can’t let go of the USSR. It felt like a nation in denial, like a hoarder who doesn’t want to throw out anything from the past in case they need it again, or an ex-alcoholic who still keeps a bottle in the bottom drawer. It’s been twenty years, but the trains still have notices reading “CCCP” at the bottom, the streets are full of statues of revolutionary heroes, and Lenin’s still there in Red Square, sleeping.

God, what a weird experience – passing the roses at the entrance, trying not to make eye contact with the guards, heading down through the black marble corridors that remind one of a top-secret military bunker, and coming out into the tomb and the sarcophagus and there it is, a dead body. (With regards to the controversy, I’m sure it’s really him. The skin looked so papery in a way I don’t think you could fake.) Lenin’s meant to be the “good” Communist, but he killed millions too. And there he is, enshrined. Even more disturbing is seeing Stalin’s monument behind the mausoleum, an elderly couple laying flowers on his grave. Gagarin’s got a plaque there, too. I love Gagarin. He’s got Soviet cool, but he’s not a politician, so it’s okay to like him.

One thing about Russia that’s really refreshing is that the mercenary spirit of capitalism is absent, at least at the ground level. There’s free wi-fi everywhere you go. You don’t have to pay to check your coat at bars or clubs. The metro costs 55p to go anywhere. It’s like the spirit of socialism lives on – socialism as it’s most basic, the idea that some things should be free because it’s better for everyone.

The police didn’t bother me. In their fur hats and long coats, hands on their truncheons, there’s a reassuring number of them about, although it’s a little weird to see a group armed with Kalashnikovs casually walk into a cafe and order coffee. Overall, Moscow felt quite safe after the initial terror. I was on a metro train once when a bunch of football fans started chanting in the corner, banging the walls. In England, of course, we’d roll our eyes and try to ignore them, but here a babushka shouted “Everyone, get off at the next stop so we can sort these guys out!” and hollered “Hooligans! Hooligans!” to a group of police on the platform who stormed the carriage as we walked away.

The metro’s beautiful. As I said, it’s cheap, and the stations are huge, decorated with white marble, bronze columns, statues of war heroes, stained glass. Trains are frequent and for the most part comfortable. The only downside is the massive sprawl of most stations – the lines are deep, the escalators long, and you can be walking for so long from line to line that you forget where you originally intended to go.

Instead of convenience stores, the Russians have all these little stalls in the subways and side streets which I thought were gorgeous. Each one is barely more than a booth, wide enough to fit a single babushka, with a small window for the exchange of money for goods. Around that window, crammed into the display case that makes up the front of the stall, is everything - cigs, beer, Pringles, cake, tights, bras, Orthodox icons, chains, knives, books, magazines, watches.

The market at Izmailovsky is full of colour, although we visited when it was covered in snow. You can get matryoshkas, of course, but you can also get hats, jackets, books, terrifying switchblades, gleaming Soviet hand grenades, rusted WW2 German machine guns, entrenching spades in leather holsters. Haggling with the vendors is great fun –  I wound up with what I was told was a genuine Red Army captain’s leather belt with hammer-and-sickle buckle for a very agreeable price. Even the crazed Uzbek who ran after me shouting “Mister! Mister!” and thrust a motley collection of fur hats on my head (dropping his prices 60% as I tried to walk away) merely added to the experience.

In Gorky Park I fulfilled another childhood dream – seeing one of the Buran Soviet space shuttles, the sole flight of which was made a month before I was born. Turning the corner and seeing it there reignited a childish glee, all my dreams of space travel returning.

We visited the Memorial Museum of Cosmonautics, which was a fascinating history of the Soviet space program.

There’s always a certain melancholy when it comes to Russia’s adventures in space – the astonishing beginning (barely three and a half years between mankind’s first little steel ball in space to first man in space!), the colossal failure of the race to the moon, and then the slow decline after the fall of the USSR. Much like Communism – such good intentions, such a sad execution.

I got to go on the mockup of the Mir space station, though.

Childhood dreams fulfilled: 3

photo by Dmitry Azovtsev

I’ve recently applied for a Russian visa, and being the organised sort of person I am I did it with very little time to spare. Thanks to this, it was a little bit nerve-wracking; the application form is convoluted, the feedback sporadic. Resources on the internet seem to be outdated – a new system has come in recently and I struggled with conflicting information for a while. However, I’m pleased to say that my visa is with me 11 days after applying for it. So as to help anybody else in the same situation, I thought I’d put together this handy, print-out-and-keep pocket guide to obtaining a single-entry Russian tourist visa in the UK via post…

Step 1: Obtain a visa invitation.

Technically, the way it’s meant to be is you book accommodation and the hotel you’re staying at posts or faxes you an official tourist voucher and tourist confirmation stamped and signed by an authorised body. In reality, pretty much any registered organisation can sell you an invitation. I used the one recommended by the hostel I will be staying at, a company specialising in visa invitations called Get Russian.

Fill in your details, including the dates you’ll be travelling – it is a very good idea to pad your dates, so if you’re staying from the 5th to the 15th, apply for an invitation from the 1st to the 20th in case you want to go earlier or are forced to stay in Russia longer due to a missed flight or medical reasons.

Visa invitations, and visas, are valid for 30 days, and there’s no harm in applying for a visa slightly longer than your intended period of stay. You do not want to miss your flight and then be stuck in Russia on an invalid visa because your dates were too close.

With Get Russian, for £19.99 you can get 48-hour delivery of the voucher and confirmation, in one document, supplied by email.  When I bought mine, it notified me I had 24-hour delivery and, sure enough, it arrived in my inbox exactly 24 hours later. (You can pay £24.99 to get it within 5 minutes.) Print it out, and pat yourself on the back. You’re on the way to getting a visa!

Step 2: Read up on the VFS Global Russian Visa site.

VFS Global are separate to the Russian embassy – they are the company that are contracted to deal with the admin and paperwork for your visa and will be your only point of contact.

Read it all through, especially the pages on the tourist visa: fees, documents required, and so on. My outline here should cover most situations, but if you’re unemployed, or a student, or want to work, you’ll probably be better off looking elsewhere for information.

Step 3: Register for the Russian Visa Application site.

Click on Register and create an account. The username and password are randomly generated, so make sure to keep a record of it. Then log in with your new account.

Step 4: Fill in the Visa Application.

Click “New Application” and agree to the terms and conditions. For “Purpose of Visit”, select “Tourism“; “Purpose” is also “Tourism“, and “Visa Category and Type” is “Common Tourist“. Select your number of entries (disclaimer: I only went for single entry, I have no idea how the double or multi entry visas work) and enter your dates, ensuring they match the dates on your visa invitation. 

The rest of the application is pretty straightforward. Make sure you select “Tourist”  as type of passport. When you get to the questions about your visa invitation, the company you ordered it from should be able to help out.

• If you ordered from Get Russian, the name of the tourist company is “OOO Vostok-Zapad Link“.
• The tourist company reference number is next to the Cyrillic word “Референс” (reference) on the top right side: the one for Get Russian is 000381.
• The number of confirmation is next to the Cyrillic “Подтверждение” (validation) on the top-left and is repeated next to “Вауцер” (voucher?) on the top-right. Mine was five digits.

As of posting, UK citizens do not need medical insurance for a visa (though it is a good idea in general). Answer the yes/no questions truthfully! and fill in your hotel/hostel’s name and address. Finally, when you get to “notes”, it might be a good idea to mention if you plan to have somebody else sign for your couriered passport. (More on that later.)

You’re presumably sending this by post and not applying in person at the consulate, so for “appointment date” select the rough date your passport should arrive (usually the day after you post it). Select VFS London as the consulate. Save and submit.

Step 5: Print out the application using the button on screen.

 Save the PDF, too, just in case. Sign the printed-out form, making sure that your signature matches the one on your passport! Finally, you’ll need a valid passport-sized photo of yourself: glue it nice and neat in the box at the bottom of the application form.

A word about postal delivery. You can send your passport to the consulate by Royal Mail Special Delivery Next Day – this is tracked and very speedy. However, the consulate only returns visas by DX Secure courier.

This means that you do not include a self-addressed Royal Mail Special Delivery envelope with your application. Some websites say otherwise, but as of the date of this post VFS do not use Royal Mail to return passports.

Also, unlike Royal Mail, DX Secure delivery can only be signed for by you or a person you authorise. This means, if you are not able to sign for it yourself, you need to draft a cover letter authorising whoever will sign for it. Send a signed copy of the letter with the application, and leave another signed copy with the person who will sign for it.

That person will need a copy of your ID (driving license, photocopy of your passport, etc.). After the DX courier delivers the passport to them, that person can get the passport to you however they like. I sent the passport to my parents’ address and they posted it on to me via Special Delivery (because I don’t have to sign for that personally).

Step 6: Go to the post office.

Ask for a prepaid Special Delivery Next Day envelope (priced £5.45). You should put into the envelope:

• A print of your valid visa invitation
• A print of the application form, correctly completed, signed, and including a lovely passport photo of yourself glued at the bottom
• (Optional) A copy of a letter authorising somebody else to sign for your passport, if you are unable to sign for it yourself
• A postal order for £83.80 payable to RNT Limited (ask at the post office counter for this) to cover the visa fees. The prices are, as of posting:
• £50 visa fee
• £26.40 visa application fee
• £7.40 DX Secure charge for courier return
• £83.80 total cost
• Your passport!

Write the address on the envelope:

Russian Visa Application Centre
PO box 64391
London EC1P 1NJ

Hand it over at the counter to be posted. (Special Delivery envelopes cannot be posted in post boxes). You will get a receipt and tracking number, so you can track the delivery on the Royal Mail website.

Step 7: Wait patiently.

VFS provide a tracking system, but as far as I can tell, if you apply by post you don’t get a reference number. I only found mine out by emailing VFS with my name and passport number. As a rough guide, this was the time scale for my visa application:

• Sunday: Apply for visa invitation from Get Russian
• Monday: Receive invitation, complete and print out visa application form
• Tuesday: Post everything by Special Delivery Next Day
• Wednesday: Application arrives at application centre, processing begins
• Wednesday, one week later: Application status on tracking website changes from “processing at embassy” to “couriered by DX”
• Thursday: Passport arrives at my parents’ address, they forward it to me by Special Delivery Next Day
• Friday: I have my passport!

I first played poker in high school, I think – it was, and remains today, a deeply cool adult-y thing to do. It’s a tremendously interesting game, unlike anything digital or otherwise – even chess lacks the subtle joys of betting and bluffing your opponent. I started playing it again with a group of my friends at university last year, and after some beginner’s luck I soon found myself to be not very good, but I enjoyed it anyway.

I’ve never played for big money in a professional context – occasionally we’d put money in, and I did win once, but I prefer a laidback evening with friends to serious competition with strangers. I’ve been thinking about playing online at sites like PartyPoker, though; the idea of doing it in an online environment and being able to test myself at a level that suits me does appeal.

Playing poker last night reminded me of something else. Since I last posted here, I’ve started work at an opticians, and I’m really enjoying it. I’ve found out a lot about myself at my new job. There’s an element of sales to my position – it’s not hard selling and you’re only ever recommending what’s best for the customer, but I’ve found it a struggle sometimes to properly explain myself and to properly explain the product in a way that makes the customer want to buy it. If you push too hard, most people will – quite rightly – clam up and outright refuse. If you don’t push at all, you end up with a string of “alright” sales, and the customers end up with glasses that are okay, but not as great as they could be. (In particular, way too many people settle for going without reflection-free coatings. The camera in your phone has it, everybody in Germany has it, why wouldn’t you want it on your glasses?)

There are tactics. I’ve talked myself into a corner quite often, where I’ve tried to promote one option and wound up discrediting another, with the result that the customer goes for neither. You really have to play your cards in the right order, and at the right time – just like poker, you can’t get too greedy, or the customer will fold. It’s an interesting business, sales.

Unsurprisingly, then, one of the most disappointing things about modern smartphones is the battery life. Using Spotify on a data connection to listen to music during a long train journey, for example, I’ve found myself seeing that dreaded red bar before the trip was even over. And unlike the days when exhausting your iPod’s battery just meant you couldn’t listen to music, now running out means you’ve lost your phone, camera, and GPS as well.

Enter the Energizer AP650MC.

It’s small and smart, with a ring to stick it on your keychain (though I wouldn’t trust myself not to sit on it). There’s a micro-USB port to charge it using your phone’s charger, and a matching micro-USB plug to connect to your phone’s charging port. (Obviously you’ll need one of the Android phones that use a micro-USB charger rather than a proprietary connector.)

Once charged and the little LED is off, you can then take it around with you until your phone starts to run out of power. I tested it out on my ZTE Blade – a budget Android device that doesn’t have exactly stellar battery performance, so the Energizer device is ideal. I ran down the battery with a day or two of usage and finished it off with a few YouTube videos on maximum brightness, then let the Energizer get to work.

It’s a slightly awkward shape, as it’s designed to fit a number of different phones. On my Blade, it covered up the notification bar when facing straight on, and it was slightly difficult to use the touchscreen, so some kind of adjustable hinge would have worked better here.

From a dead battery, the Energizer booted up my phone and started charging. I downloaded a few programs from the market, using the Wi-Fi and display to some extent – the same sort of usage you might have in an emergency situation where you need your phone for just a few minutes. 30 minutes later, the Energizer’s LED went off and stopped charging at 12% as the below graph (sort of) indicates:

So, it won’t bring a depleted phone back to 100%, but 12% is enough for a few emergency phone calls or texts, and could last you a couple of hours (with careful usage) until you can get back to a charger. If you’re the sort who always forgets to charge their phone, it’s a great thing to keep at the bottom of your bag – just in case you ever need it.

I’m used to hand assembling my travels – find a flight, then find a hotel, then arrange transport. If you get a choice of holiday deals from a travel agent, you might not get exactly what you want, but there is the advantage of sometimes getting a better deal than you could booking it yourself – plus not having to worry. It’s all done for you – you just have to pays your money and takes your seat.

I think we take the EU for granted – you just need a passport and you’ve got unlimited travel across 27 countries. It’s only when you go outside the EU that you realise that the rest of the world is carefully wrapped in red tape. To visit Russia, for example, what you need is a lengthy checklist:

• Find a hotel and book the dates you want.
• Receive a letter of invitation.
• Send it off to the visa company with your passport, application form, photo, and – if you’re un/self-employed – provide a sheaf of bank statements.
• Pay £50 for the visa, £26 for the service, and £7.40 for your passport to be posted back to you.
• Finally, book your flights.

There was once a house where the tenant made a lot of mess in the kitchen, leaving food everywhere. This tenant was kicked out because of the mess and a new one arrived. The new tenant complained about all the mess, but didn’t make any effort to clear it up. In fact, the new tenant made things worse by cutting the maintenance budget. As a result, lots of cockroaches appeared all over the kitchen. The tenant complained that they hadn’t spent enough money on bug spray and that the old tenant had made the kitchen a mess.

It wasn’t the cockroaches’ fault the kitchen was a mess. The cockroaches were stupid and mean, though. What needed to be done was clear out the cockroaches with bug spray and traps, because it’s difficult to live in a house with bugs everywhere. And then for the tenant to do what needed to be done and clean up the damn house and spend some money on repairs.

In all seriousness, though, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything in Britain quite as soul-numbingly unpleasant as last night’s carnage. The sooner this is over, the better. And maybe then we can build on a handful of the good things to come out of this – a better sense of community, a new awareness of solving these problems before they erupt in violence.

© Licensed to London News Pictures. 07/08/2011. London, UK. As looters and rioters smashed up shops, looted and fought with police in Camden Town, Philippa Morgan-Walker, 25 and her husband, Jonny Walker, 31, made tea for the police who were protecting their street. Some of the officers had been on duty for more than 30 hours. Photo credit : Joel Goodman/LNP

“Go to London! I guarantee you’ll either be mugged or not appreciated. Catch the train to London, stopping at Rejection, Disappointment, Backstabbing Central and Shattered Dreams Parkway.”
– Alan Partridge

Well, it’s not all bad. It’s never cheap, but London is home to some of the world’s most famous museums – and if you’re wondering what to do on your trip, the best news is that some of the top attractions in the capital are completely free. Here’s a list of the best ones:

• The British Museum dates back to 1753, but some of the exhibitions are far older than that. Key attractions include the Rosetta Stone, a 5,300-year old Egyptian mummy, and ancient Anglo-Saxon treasures. Visitors can even get to handle ancient treasures like Roman coins in the Hands On sessions. Located close to Holborn Underground station and open from 10am to 5:30pm, admission is free for all visitors and foreign language audio guides are available. It can be a tad stuffy – well, it is a museum – but the sheer amount of history here makes it a must-see.
• Facing Trafalgar Square is the stately National Gallery, a collection of over 2,300 paintings from the 13th century onwards. Though small compared to some European galleries, the collection provides an unrivalled sampling of Western art. Just about every famous European painter is present in the gallery’s collection: the exhibition’s highlights include works by da Vinci, Gainsborough, Constable, Seurat, and of course van Gogh’s “Sunflowers”.
• A few minutes from St Paul’s Cathedral is the Museum of London, another top free museum in the city. Opened in 1976 and recently undergoing a £20m refurbishment, the museum covers the history of London from prehistoric times, through Roman “Londinium” and medieval turmoil, right up to World War II and contemporary London. Highlights include examples of London fashion, including styles from Mary Quant and Alexander McQueen.
• Meanwhile, running along Exhibition Road in Kensington are three of London’s top museums – and they’re all free. Fantastic for kids, the Science Museum is the fifth most popular museum in the UK. Streams of visitors come to see over 300,000 exhibits, such as the famous Stephenson’s Rocket, the first jet engine, and a working model of Charles Babbage’s famous 19th century analog computer, the Difference Engine. Recent attractions include the IMAX 3D cinema and a brand new digital technology collection.
• A short distance away is the Natural History Museum. Built in 1880, the stunning architecture of this “cathedral of nature” is almost an attraction in itself. Inside are over 70 million specimens, a world class research centre, and enough exhibits to keep your kids and adults alike entertained for hours – all for free. In the central hall stands a 105-foot diplodocus skeleton; elsewhere you can see a full-scale model of a blue whale, experience an earthquake simulator, and enjoy regular special exhibitions.
• Finally, the Victoria and Albert Museum – established in 1857 and opened by the Queen herself – is the world’s biggest museum of art and design. The V&A’s top attractions include ancient Ming vases, King James II’s wedding suit, a full-size replica of Michelangelo’ David and a stunning 125 ft plaster cast of Trajan’s Column – it’s hard to understand just how huge it is until you’ve seen it yourself. The museum itself is a beautiful example of post-Victorian architecture, with peaceful gardens outside the refreshment rooms.

You’ll probably wind up spending twice what you expected on novelty keychains and mouse mats (who uses mouse mats these days, anyway?) but there’s a breathtaking array of free museums with world-class exhibitions in every field imaginable. Don’t hesitate to drop in on one or more of the museums on this list next time you’re visiting.

Vital Statistics
With five toppings and at 13.5″ (34 cm) in diameter, the Tandoori Chicken offers a whopping 28.6 square inches per topping. Our pizza came with tandoori chicken, onions, mushrooms, green peppers, and jalapeno peppers as standard, although bespoke pizzas are available. With the stuff-crusted option selected, a ring of delicious mozzarella and herb is installed around the edge of the pizza for increased tastiness.

Delivery
Despite a slight hiccup with addresses, the delivery went smoothly, the pizza arriving 40 minutes after ordering. This allowed adequate room to build up an appetite. Upon arrival, we were pleased to find a free tub of garlic and herb sauce.

Impressions
General impressions of the pizza from my fellow reviewer were “nice smell” and “hot.” The jalapenos were not overpowering, which I personally feel is a plus in a pizza, but some might find it lacks punch. The tomato sauce base was rich and – tomato-y, while the dough was soft and the stuffed crust an excellent addition. Only a handful of mushrooms were provided with the pizza – some may feel this is a downside, but I can’t stand mushrooms anyway.
One downside was the 25 g garlic and herb sauce, which proved to be inadequate for two hungry eaters. We recommend in future at least 3.5 g of sauce per inch of pizza.

Pizza Length
Strenuous testing by two reviewers revealed that the pizza has a half-life of 8 minutes – that is, it takes two eaters 8 minutes to consume half the pizza. From this point onwards consumption slowed. The entire pizza was finished after 34 minutes, an average of 4 minutes 15 seconds per slice. We feel this represents excellent value for money in the crowded pizza market.

Conclusions
While we had some reservations about the garlic and herb sauce, we found that the Large Tandoori Chicken Stuffed Crust – with an excellent tomato base and great dough – comprises a great choice for your next pizza purchase.

I’ve recently started using the amazing JoliOS on my netbook – a hybrid cloud/local OS, it’s not as bulky as Windows, but neither is it as thin and weedy as ChromeOS. You’re not tethered to the Cloud and if you haven’t got an internet connection (the era of constant, cheap wireless net is not quite here yet, especially in Blighty) you can still get work done offline. Better still, there’s an impressive app store which includes a version of Spotify running in WINE for Linux compatibility. Unfortunately, there’s a bug with Facebook connectivity that means it crashes on startup if you’ve linked your account with Facebook. This is easy enough to fix:

1. Log into Facebook.
2. Go to “Account” > “Privacy Settings”.
3. Scroll down to “Apps and websites” and click “Edit your settings”.
4. Click “Edit settings” next to “Apps you use”
5. Scroll down to Spotify, click the little x and press “Remove”. Job done!

Non-contract users
Price: £479.99
Plan: O2 Pay & Go

For those after pay-as-you-go or already on a SIM Only contract, you can’t beat £20 off the RRP.

Light users
Price: £9/month, £304.99 handset
Plan: 3 Internet Talker 100 (24 months)

If you absolutely must have the Galaxy on the cheapest contract available, 3 offer the handset for £305 with 100 minutes, 100 texts
and internet for £9 per month.

Texters
Price: £15/month, £249.99 handset
Plan: Orange Dolphin 15 (24 months)

You’ll pay £250 for the phone, but for £15 per month you get unlimited texts and 100 minutes.

Talkers
Price: £35/month, free handset
Plan: 3 The One Plan (24 months)

It’d be hard to run out with unlimited data, 5000 texts and 2000 minutes (that’s more an hour of chatting every day) – and the handset for free.

Internet users
Price: £25/month, £100 handset
Plan: T-Mobile Pay monthly 25 internet (24 months)

If you don’t mind £100 for the handset, grab 300 minutes, 300 texts and – for a limited time – all-you-can-eat internet for £25 per month.