Going Postal

The first time I went to a British post office, back in 1995, I was amazed to find all sorts of wrapping and packing supplies for sale. Within a couple of years you could buy anything you needed along those lines at any United States post office, but that’s about where the grand U.S.P.S. improvement scheme came to a grinding halt: A little wrapping paper, a little tape, money orders, and the commemorative stamps which are, I suspect, the real post office cash cow.

The British have really nice commemoratives, too, but you’re likely not to notice them over the roar of the amazing multi-service biz that is the Royal Post Office. Although this multiplicity of exciting things to do probably contributes to the interminable post office queues, we do have to remember that the British will queue for anything. They’ll latch on to the tail end of a queue on their way home, nevermind knowing what it’s actually for, and then good manners keep them from asking, and there you are. Sometimes they don’t get home for days.

But that’s not to take away from the heightened levels of sheer stimulation to be experienced at your local Post Office anywhere between Northumblerland and Cornwall. Forthwith: a list, probably not complete, of things one can accomplish there.

Buy and sell any of 70 currencies.

Cash several varieties of government cheques.

Purchase gift vouchers for goods and services from various high street businesses and hotel chains.

Get mobile phone and land line service.

Pay for mobile phone top-up for the top six U.K. mobile providers.

Purchase home and life insurance.

Purchase travel insurance, and travel money cards preloaded with £, $, or €.

Pay household bills.

Recharge your electricity key or gas card (pay-as-you-go utilities).

Send and receive money.

Deposit and withdraw funds, and check your bank balance.

Open a savings account or trust fund.

Buy any of several flavours of bonds.

Rent a car.

Pay several kinds of tax and government licence fees.

Print digital photos.

Apply for a driving or vehicle licence.

Buy a fishing licence.

Buy a phonecard.

Apply for a Post Office credit card

Play the National Lottery.

Apply for a loan.

If I didn't have a perfectly nice room I'd be tempted to move in. It’s not enough that Britain’s postal service has made the U.S.P.S. look like a poor relation who can’t even sell you insurance or Zlotys, but now they have their own Oscars, the Best Post Office Awards, most recently won by the branch in Hungerford Road, Crewe. And I don’t know it for a fact, but I suspect no R.P.O. employee has yet gone on a shooting rampage at work, at least not in Hungerford Road, Crewe. You may be sure I’m going to miss a couple of things sharply about Old Blighty when at last Her Majesty evicts me in September, and one of them will be the Royal Post Office.