I really enjoyed writing while I was travelling, so I decided I would continue with my blog, when I felt inspired to.
It was nice to spend the 2 ½ months in Sydney and on the scenic Central Coast between the trip and our move to the UK. The trip seems like a distant memory already, but when we arrived home we experienced some serious reverse culture shock for a while. It was so good to see everyone though and I really enjoyed my stint working at Cochlear again. I’m all excited about working now!
I’m in sunny England trying to find my feet at the minute. I feel I should start by talking about the weather, as all good Britain’s do. So far the weather has been lovely. The day I arrived I got off the plane in a sweltering 27 degree C heat and I had to wait in the immigration queues for a good hour or so (with no air-con) in front of some really annoyingly whiney Australian’s, complaining about how hot it was, how tired they were and how sick they were, as they breathed and coughed all over me. I really believe I am a weather good luck charm now though. I leave Sydney and it turns into a dust bowl!
It’s the little things I’ve noticed that are different from home. Here are some things I’ve taken note of.
People are ridiculously polite here! Really, really polite! Nick and I were in Stratford-Upon-Avon, having some lunch before an interview Nick had with a company. As I was getting up after eating, an elderly lady with a walking stick walked past my table and apologised to me as she hobbled past, as she was vaguely holding me up for 1/20th of a second before I could leave my table. This is when I realised that yep, I’m in England.
The second thing that hit me was the flag on the cathedral outside our bedroom window at Nick’s friend’s Ben and Jane house…it was red and white!
I am trying hard to fit in here, asking for a sausage butty instead of a sausage sanga, saying sorry at any and all opportunities. I am getting used to asking where the public conveniences are rather than the public toilets, and calling capsicums, peppers. At times I really need some translation though, Nick asked for me to pass the bainne (pronounced bonya) the other day and I had no idea what he wanted…it was the milk.
I have found it weird buying things too. I bought some fresh eggs the other day for £1, so I handed over £1 and was waiting for my change. It looks like the $2 coin to me. Then I was buying a banana another day for 49p and realised that I get change. I stood there wondering if I should wait or not. Well, I don’t want to look like a tight arse now!
I have been listening in on all the accents. I was waiting in Sheffield the other day for a “bous” (a bus) and heard some great ones. I overheard someone on her mobile phone saying “eez at ome innhe” that means that he was at home already. I have noticed that people here like to add in the word should to sentences too...”I should think so”, or “I should hope so”. Plus they like “to be fair” a lot too. I keep hearing “alright” and I’m not sure how to reply…is that a question?? I think I have already picked up some of the accent though. Nick’s dad called us the other day and when I answered the phone he was about to hang up because he thought he had the wrong number.
Driving has been interesting. When I first drove the Golf, I didn’t know how to put it into reverse. I would have driven it straight into the car parked in front, if Nick hadn’t been in the car to tell me that I need to push down on the gear stick to pop it into reverse. I also keep putting the windscreen wipers on instead of the blinkers and the blinkers on instead of the windscreen wipers. One day we had to park our little green Golf down the road in the village as there was some big flower festival on and parking was limited. The next day when I went back to the car. I wondered why it wouldn’t open and there was different stuff on the inside. After scratching my head I realised the car had transformed into a Peugeot. I’m getting used to the narrow lanes and the different road markings and signs though. I now know, luckily not the hard way, that the road sign that looks like a tuning fork…means your lane is about to end…abruptly! I have to get used to lay-by’s not being where you go to pay off your expensive jacket that you couldn’t quite afford, hard shoulders are places that you drive in at times, not some arthritic body part and that central reservations are not where native American Indians are forced to live. I haven’t recognised any of the road kill yet and found the names of the little caravans serving food on the side of the road very amusing. My favourite was the snack wagon.
After a lot of discussion we have decided to move to Cambridgeshire or nearby. Nick has accepted a job in Cambridge and as I write he is busy looking for houses near Jamie Oliver’s dad’s pub in Saffron Waldon. So it’s onto the next exciting phase.
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