The drill went through our front wall at 10:20 on Wednesday morning, and Mabel left the room. She has not entirely come back. That was install day for full fibre, and it saves us £33.50 a month.
Why now
Our old cable deal had crept up. When we signed, years ago, the price was a sensible one that we'd long since forgotten; by this winter we were paying £61.50 a month, out of contract, for 350Mb. It's perfectly fine broadband. I had just never put a price against "fine".
The change was that full fibre finally reached our road. A leaflet came through the door at the end of January, and when I checked the postcode in February the answer was "available from 26 March". I ordered on Tuesday 4 March. It took twelve minutes online: 500Mb, £28 a month on a 24-month contract that ends in March 2027, no set-up fee, and the router included. I don't name companies on here, and I'd rather you read the contract in front of you than take my word for any of it.
Ringing to leave
I rang the old provider to cancel, partly because the cancellation has to be done and partly because I was curious about what they'd say. The woman on the phone was lovely. She offered £44 a month for 18 months to stay. I did the sum while she waited: that's £17.50 a month less than we were paying, and still £16 more than the new one, for a slower line. I said no thank you. I felt a bit mean, which is a thing I've noticed about saying no to someone nice.
I booked the cancellation for 26 March, the install date, so we wouldn't be paying for two lines. Since we were out of contract, there was no exit fee.
Install day
The window was 8am to 1pm. The engineer, a cheerful man called Craig, arrived at 9:40, forty minutes after I'd got back from drop-off, by which time I had refolded the same washing twice. It was a bright, cold morning with frost still on the roofs. I'd moved the Aldi shop to lunchtime, and when I got there it was strangely calm.
The fibre came in from the pole on the corner of the front garden. He drilled a hole through the front wall, ran the cable into the hall, and put a small white box on the wall by the door, with the router on the shelf above the radiator. That was about two hours, with a pause when he asked for a cup of tea and I felt like a person with a proper house.
I ran a speed test standing in the hall: 487Mb down. When Rob got in at half past one he did the same on his phone, said "nice" in the voice he uses for goals, and went to find out whether his football highlights had stopped buffering. They had. He hasn't mentioned it since, and that's how I know it's working.
What didn't go perfectly
The signal in Isla's back bedroom, which is the furthest room from the front door, is weaker. A test on her tablet gave 140Mb, which is plenty for homework and a film, but nowhere near the hall. I thought about buying an extender and decided to wait and see whether anybody notices. The printer also refused to reconnect and I spent a Wednesday evening teaching it the new name of the Wi-Fi. And I forgot the final part-month bill for the old line, which turned up two days later and felt like a small tax on switching.
The old cable hub and router went back in the prepaid bag, and I kept the receipt in the jar. On the bills sheet I crossed out £61.50 with a single line (I never scribble) and wrote £28.00 beside it, and then stood in the kitchen looking at the sheet for longer than was reasonable.
The sums: £61.50 less £28.00 is £33.50 a month, or £402 a year, for a faster line and a hole in the front wall.
