Hola a todos
There's not been much to report since Christmas. The Spanish have no clue how to take a holiday, I know this because at 11am on 26th Dec I was teaching English to a poor little lad who barely knows Castilian Spanish (thanks to his first language being Basque) never mind English. And I was back there again on the 27th, because heaven forbid he skip a week (due to me being in Barcelona when he should have a class. Oopsie).
I also went up the funicular to watch the sunset the other day and it was stonking! An absolute corker, here's the link to the pics (but you might want to just look at the thumbnails rather than scroll through them - there's a lot, but they're worth a look!)
https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.2884938131695.2149593.1507386366&type=1&l=5c0557bf07
Anyway, yesterday I was invited to Bermeo, where the other lad I teach lives. It was nice to spend the day with him and his mum, and talk to someone who's not a student for a change! I saw lots of the Basque countryside and had a great lunch, it was a superb day, even if it did decide to rain on us. A few pics here:
https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.2905128596444.2150118.1507386366&type=1&l=7344ead609
Not much else to say, I just relaxed a bit today and we'll have to see how new year pans out!
Hasta Luego blogueros!
Friday, 30 December 2011
Sunday, 25 December 2011
How to survive Christmas by yourself (yes it is possible)
Hello blogueros, this is a slightly different post today. I realised, while googling 'how to avoid committing suicide while spending Christmas Day by yourself' (I am kidding... but some websites pretty much say this!) that there is a distinct lack of practical advice out there for people who, for whatever reason, are not going to be with their nearest and dearest. So here is my self-help guide.
Christmas has long been advertised as the time for families to get together. If you don't make an effort any other time of year, Christmas should be the time that you do, right? Well my question to you is this: how does that make ANY sense? Christmas is the very worst time of year to travel (overcrowded public transport, flight delays and cancellations, over-priced tickets, snow, rain, wind, etc etc). Not only that, but if you do chose to travel, you have to stay in said place for days on end (unless you have a car) because transport stops functioning properly. Also, back in the days of Dickens, the servants most certainly didn't get a day off to be with their family, and the working class were in the majority back then. So where exactly does this romantic view of Christmas with the family come from?
One word: Oxo.
Yes, the gravy/stock people. Their adverts forever tell us that the whole family should be around the same table on Christmas Day. Well oxo, I have to ask, WHY?! It had never really happened before unless you were upper class, so why do we put so much emphasis on it now? All it does is make a great proportion of England feel under pressure to produce this amazing day, with very little chance of everything being 'perfect' because life isn't like that. And those of us faced with the prospect of spending Christmas by ourselves find ourselves googling 'how the heck do we survive? We're going so against the grain I won't make it past midday!'
Fear not. Here's some tips that I would have found useful over the past few weeks, if I'd bothered getting in touch with Dr Who and jumping into his TARDIS, going into the future to post this, then going back again.
1) Do what makes you happy. If you wanna wear your jimjams all day, then fine. But work out whether this will actually serve to make you think about Bridget Jones and therefore end up depressed. If jimjams = genuine happiness, then go for it. If jimjams = depression, get up, get dressed, put make-up on.
2) Make a slap-up lunch. Even if there is just you. So it doesn't have to have ALL the trimmings, in fact, you might be in a country where stuffing doesn't exist (like me). I decided that I was going to have a bash at making stuffing from scratch, which was very fun. But as Spanish sausages aren't much cop, and neither is their bacon, I decided to scrap the idea of pigs in blankets because they would just be a disappointment. Weigh up before the day what would be great to treat yourself to, and what would just be not worth bothering with. Chances are you'll end up with some kind of traditional meat, some roast spuds (very simple to make when you get down to it) and some veg. If you're in foreign lands, make your family post you some gravy, because no Christmas dinner isn't complete without it, and it makes any culinary disasters look edible!
3) Take pictures! It helps your family to know that you're still alive and having Christmas regardless. I say this from experience :)
4) Skype. Is a marvelous thing. It's amazing how many people you can end up talking to on Christmas day even when you're not with them. Webcam is also nice, unless you're the sort of person who'll end up sobbing over it.
5) It's all in the mindset. If you wake up and think that the day's gonna be rubbish, then it will be, and I will personally disown you for letting the Oxo adverts beat you into submission! DON'T GIVE THEM THE SATISFACTION!
6) Go for a walk. Seriously. Find out when sunset is and head out about 3/4 hour before that time, and you could be in for a treat if you look sky-wards. If not, head into the town and look at the Christmas lights.
7) Remember, Christmas is just another day! You've never spontaneously combusted before just because you've not been with your family, and it's not about to happen now! It's just a day, 24 hours, like any other, and it's really not a big deal.
8) If you're in the God Squad, just think, Mary and Joseph didn't have stuffing, pigs in blankets, or gravy either. Also, if you believe in Christmas for what it really is, every day should be Christmas because every day we should be remembering that Jesus came for us. Yay! So it really doesn't matter where, when, or how you celebrate. In fact, celebrating every day would be far more appropriate!
9) Christmas happens every year. If you live to the average age, you'll have at least 74 other Christmases with your family to look back on. Surely that's enough for anyone?! You're really not missing out. Missing someone's wedding, that could be considered missing out, because it's (hopefully) a once-in-a-life-time event.
10) Go get yourself something nice. In some parts of the world (like Spain) gift wrap is a big thing, and it doesn't cost anymore than the cashier just shoving it in a carrier. Get it gift wrapped so you have something to open :D
11) Remember - this means you don't have to watch the Christmas episode of Eastenders! WIN!!!!
There we are, a little list of stuff to help you survive. In fact, it's more than surviving, it's ENJOYING. So chin up, keep calm, and carry on.
Until next time! xxx
Christmas has long been advertised as the time for families to get together. If you don't make an effort any other time of year, Christmas should be the time that you do, right? Well my question to you is this: how does that make ANY sense? Christmas is the very worst time of year to travel (overcrowded public transport, flight delays and cancellations, over-priced tickets, snow, rain, wind, etc etc). Not only that, but if you do chose to travel, you have to stay in said place for days on end (unless you have a car) because transport stops functioning properly. Also, back in the days of Dickens, the servants most certainly didn't get a day off to be with their family, and the working class were in the majority back then. So where exactly does this romantic view of Christmas with the family come from?
One word: Oxo.
Yes, the gravy/stock people. Their adverts forever tell us that the whole family should be around the same table on Christmas Day. Well oxo, I have to ask, WHY?! It had never really happened before unless you were upper class, so why do we put so much emphasis on it now? All it does is make a great proportion of England feel under pressure to produce this amazing day, with very little chance of everything being 'perfect' because life isn't like that. And those of us faced with the prospect of spending Christmas by ourselves find ourselves googling 'how the heck do we survive? We're going so against the grain I won't make it past midday!'
Fear not. Here's some tips that I would have found useful over the past few weeks, if I'd bothered getting in touch with Dr Who and jumping into his TARDIS, going into the future to post this, then going back again.
1) Do what makes you happy. If you wanna wear your jimjams all day, then fine. But work out whether this will actually serve to make you think about Bridget Jones and therefore end up depressed. If jimjams = genuine happiness, then go for it. If jimjams = depression, get up, get dressed, put make-up on.
2) Make a slap-up lunch. Even if there is just you. So it doesn't have to have ALL the trimmings, in fact, you might be in a country where stuffing doesn't exist (like me). I decided that I was going to have a bash at making stuffing from scratch, which was very fun. But as Spanish sausages aren't much cop, and neither is their bacon, I decided to scrap the idea of pigs in blankets because they would just be a disappointment. Weigh up before the day what would be great to treat yourself to, and what would just be not worth bothering with. Chances are you'll end up with some kind of traditional meat, some roast spuds (very simple to make when you get down to it) and some veg. If you're in foreign lands, make your family post you some gravy, because no Christmas dinner isn't complete without it, and it makes any culinary disasters look edible!
3) Take pictures! It helps your family to know that you're still alive and having Christmas regardless. I say this from experience :)
4) Skype. Is a marvelous thing. It's amazing how many people you can end up talking to on Christmas day even when you're not with them. Webcam is also nice, unless you're the sort of person who'll end up sobbing over it.
5) It's all in the mindset. If you wake up and think that the day's gonna be rubbish, then it will be, and I will personally disown you for letting the Oxo adverts beat you into submission! DON'T GIVE THEM THE SATISFACTION!
6) Go for a walk. Seriously. Find out when sunset is and head out about 3/4 hour before that time, and you could be in for a treat if you look sky-wards. If not, head into the town and look at the Christmas lights.
7) Remember, Christmas is just another day! You've never spontaneously combusted before just because you've not been with your family, and it's not about to happen now! It's just a day, 24 hours, like any other, and it's really not a big deal.
8) If you're in the God Squad, just think, Mary and Joseph didn't have stuffing, pigs in blankets, or gravy either. Also, if you believe in Christmas for what it really is, every day should be Christmas because every day we should be remembering that Jesus came for us. Yay! So it really doesn't matter where, when, or how you celebrate. In fact, celebrating every day would be far more appropriate!
9) Christmas happens every year. If you live to the average age, you'll have at least 74 other Christmases with your family to look back on. Surely that's enough for anyone?! You're really not missing out. Missing someone's wedding, that could be considered missing out, because it's (hopefully) a once-in-a-life-time event.
10) Go get yourself something nice. In some parts of the world (like Spain) gift wrap is a big thing, and it doesn't cost anymore than the cashier just shoving it in a carrier. Get it gift wrapped so you have something to open :D
11) Remember - this means you don't have to watch the Christmas episode of Eastenders! WIN!!!!
There we are, a little list of stuff to help you survive. In fact, it's more than surviving, it's ENJOYING. So chin up, keep calm, and carry on.
Until next time! xxx
Thursday, 15 December 2011
Difficult Jet, Galician, and an uncomfy bed.
So, as you've probably guessed, I'm back in Spain. I came back to a complete and utter montón (mountain) of work. So I am a bit stressed. I also have the Galician exam this afternoon, and to say I will not pass is an understatement. Not that I need to pass, because I'm doing too many credits anyway, but the point is that it's a waste of my time even sitting in the exam.
Anyhoo. I am also doing far much teaching of English. And I've realised that English is a stupid language. My other point that I need to ramble on about is how the attitude of English people RE foreign languages STINKS. We know this already, due to the lack of translators and interpreters who have English as their mother tongue which means that foreign shampoo bottles are being translated to English by Spanish people (which is clearly not ideal and goes against the grain entirely). But the latest example manifested itself when Steph and I were flying back to Spain. The company we fly with (for legal reasons I won't say their name, but we'll call them DifficultJet) is an English company, but as they insist on flying to Bilbao (which is the back end of beyond in Spanish terms) their flights mainly have Spanish people on. However, NONE of the air-hostesses speak Spanish, and they just assume that by talking in ridiculously complicated English (albeit slow English), Spanish people will understand.
One poor woman didn't understand that if she didn't fit her handbag into her hand luggage, she'd have to pay £40 to book it into the hold. It was CLEAR she didn't really understand, but there was no acknowledgement that she didn't speak English because we think everyone speaks our language.
My other beef with Difficult Jet is that the safety announcements do happen in both English and Spanish, but the actions only happen to the English announcements. And, moreover, the actions happen before the words have been said. As an amateur choreographer, this annoys the heck out of me. Actions should slightly lag behind, otherwise the recording is saying 'fasten your belt like this' and it's already been done ten minutes ago!
Anyway. Rant over.
New rant: my bed is still uncomfortable.
Hasta luego blogueros, have a better week than mine! x
Anyhoo. I am also doing far much teaching of English. And I've realised that English is a stupid language. My other point that I need to ramble on about is how the attitude of English people RE foreign languages STINKS. We know this already, due to the lack of translators and interpreters who have English as their mother tongue which means that foreign shampoo bottles are being translated to English by Spanish people (which is clearly not ideal and goes against the grain entirely). But the latest example manifested itself when Steph and I were flying back to Spain. The company we fly with (for legal reasons I won't say their name, but we'll call them DifficultJet) is an English company, but as they insist on flying to Bilbao (which is the back end of beyond in Spanish terms) their flights mainly have Spanish people on. However, NONE of the air-hostesses speak Spanish, and they just assume that by talking in ridiculously complicated English (albeit slow English), Spanish people will understand.
One poor woman didn't understand that if she didn't fit her handbag into her hand luggage, she'd have to pay £40 to book it into the hold. It was CLEAR she didn't really understand, but there was no acknowledgement that she didn't speak English because we think everyone speaks our language.
My other beef with Difficult Jet is that the safety announcements do happen in both English and Spanish, but the actions only happen to the English announcements. And, moreover, the actions happen before the words have been said. As an amateur choreographer, this annoys the heck out of me. Actions should slightly lag behind, otherwise the recording is saying 'fasten your belt like this' and it's already been done ten minutes ago!
Anyway. Rant over.
New rant: my bed is still uncomfortable.
Hasta luego blogueros, have a better week than mine! x
Monday, 5 December 2011
The night that happened in reverse!
My dear Blogueros, I thought you might all appreciate it if I don't wedge every detail of my week in the motherland into one great big blog post at the end of the week, so here's details of my Lancaster trip!
First off, we arrived in Manchester Airport (after the captain telling us 'welcome to England, it's 3 degrees...') and I had the surprise of my life when Emily and Raph appeared! They'd come to surprise me and it really was a surprise! So Raph drove us back to Lancaster, where the first port of call was Greggs for a pasty, then Diggles, then the Learning Zone (I really know how to live the high life!). I said hello to all the usual suspects that were working in there, then me and Steph went to see Olga at 2.40ish, only to find her there with José saying 'oh you're early'! Just to be polite me and Steph had been 10mins late anyway to prove we were working on Spanish time! So we went back at 3 (well, 3.10 to be on the safe side) and had a good old chin-wag with Olga. It was lovely to see her and get some perspective and advice. After that I went to Emily's for a fix of Favourite Pasta, then we all went to Gabby's 21st birthday party in Chorley, which was good fun.
Saturday became the strangest day of my life so far, and that is saying something! First on the agenda was lunch at the Borough with the Learning Zone people (which is a fairly extended family thanks to the ridiculous numbers of hours we spent together last year). It was amazing to eat real food with lovely people! Then I went to Beth's and helped her house put up their Christmas tree and eat cookies (om nom!). I went to have dinner cooked by Rachel, which was nice, then things started to get strange!
She cut her finger and it refused to stop bleeding! So after a call to NHS direct ('we are experiencing a high volume of calls... we'll call you back in 4 hours or hold to speak to an advisor' - needless to say I held!) we all had a student trip to A&E. We were booked in to see Soulrigg perform in Grad Bar, so Emily and Zoe stayed with Rach, Laura and Gabby went to sit in the White Cross to wait in case it was a long job and I headed to a standing-room-only gig. It was amazing, but I don't think the band realise that the true victims of their success are their fans who never get a seat these days! Anyway, I then went back to town to find everyone was sat in the White Cross drinking vino! So I decided it would be rude not to join. We were kicked out around 1.30 so we went back to 1 Stanley Place for a coffee...
Literally, we were talking so much that we never got the coffee. In fact, after 3am I lost all concept of what 'just another half an hour' meant, and the next thing we knew it was 6.30! Rach had been sensible and gone to bed, and the rest of us were sat gossiping. It was only Emily's declaration of 'hang on, I'm sober now' that made us realise time had passed! But then we decided we couldn't go to bed at 6.30, and we wanted brekkie, so we waited till 7 and went to Wetherspoons! As it was pitch black outside and we were a little hyper from lack of sleep, it honestly felt like we were going for a night out. So we had brekkie, then came home and went to bed - hence the title 'the night that happened in reverse'. I got two hours kip, then had to get up to go for even more food.
I met up with Fiona and Eric (at the White Cross - so I had the distinction of being the last one out and the first one back in again!) for a Christmas dinner, then I went to number 1 again for a chat before heading to campus.
I have never seen so much food as Raph's flatmates managed to put together! In fact, we had to go for a walk before pudding, to wake us up and let everything rest. So it does feel like I've had Christmas now, and it's been a lovely few days. Thank you to everyone who made it so hilarious, wonderful, and beautiful :)
I got to York today, and now it's time for some more English-ness. Hasta luego Blogueros! xxx
Thursday, 1 December 2011
San Seb, Plentzia, Agony Aunts and washing.
Oh my dear Blogueros! I am so sorry to leave you hanging for so long, wondering what's become of little old me. I really shouldn't let things slide so... before I know it you'll all be in rehab suffering from terrible Lucy-Cakes withdrawal and I'll be being sued for cruelty to blogueros (which, in case you're wondering, is a completely made-up Spanish-sounding name for those who follow my bloggio - which is a completely made-up Italian-sounding name for this rambling piece of rubbish you're reading now.
Well now, not that much has happened. I had a delightful day in San Sebastián two weekends ago, and another nice day in Plentzia last weekend. Both have pretty stunning beaches and it felt good to get out of Bilbao. I took lots of pictures in San Sebastián, thanks to the ridiculously beautiful scenery - check out facebook (I'll post the public links at the bottom for those of you who are facebook-less).
Today I went to teach my two lovely Spanish girls, Maria and Helene. Mum brought me some teen magazines when she came so I read some of the problems on the problem pages and asked the girls to be the agony aunts. It was good fun and they were much more sympathetic than I would have been with a pile of stroppy, idiotic teens who have nothing better to do than burden some poor woman in an office somewhere with daft questions like 'my girlfriend's in love with Ashton from JLS, so should I become a singer?' Honestly.
In other news, I hung my washing out to dry as it's 20 degrees even though it's December. This is the craziest autumn/winter I've ever had! It was a bit windy though so I had to go and rescue my trousers because they blew off the line!
And now I am trying to keep very calm and collected, because nothing is happening tomorrow. You know, nothing like a casual visit to Lancaster followed by York ;) So, I shall blog again when I return from that-which-is-not-happening ;) Hasta luego! xxx
San Seb pics: https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.2630395728294.2145307.1507386366&type=1&l=fff0989974
Well now, not that much has happened. I had a delightful day in San Sebastián two weekends ago, and another nice day in Plentzia last weekend. Both have pretty stunning beaches and it felt good to get out of Bilbao. I took lots of pictures in San Sebastián, thanks to the ridiculously beautiful scenery - check out facebook (I'll post the public links at the bottom for those of you who are facebook-less).
Today I went to teach my two lovely Spanish girls, Maria and Helene. Mum brought me some teen magazines when she came so I read some of the problems on the problem pages and asked the girls to be the agony aunts. It was good fun and they were much more sympathetic than I would have been with a pile of stroppy, idiotic teens who have nothing better to do than burden some poor woman in an office somewhere with daft questions like 'my girlfriend's in love with Ashton from JLS, so should I become a singer?' Honestly.
In other news, I hung my washing out to dry as it's 20 degrees even though it's December. This is the craziest autumn/winter I've ever had! It was a bit windy though so I had to go and rescue my trousers because they blew off the line!
And now I am trying to keep very calm and collected, because nothing is happening tomorrow. You know, nothing like a casual visit to Lancaster followed by York ;) So, I shall blog again when I return from that-which-is-not-happening ;) Hasta luego! xxx
San Seb pics: https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.2630395728294.2145307.1507386366&type=1&l=fff0989974
Bilbao sunset: https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.2637759952395.2145430.1507386366&type=1&l=362a633d7c
Plentzia: https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.2676437159301.2145965.1507386366&type=1&l=9d5149825d
Sunday, 20 November 2011
'Hola hola'... 'hello hello!'
Helloooo world. Yes I have been a slight recluse recently, but luckily my sanity has decided to join me once more (better late than never).
This week has passed in a flurry of everyone being absolutely pooped. On Tuesday the teacher of our 9am was like 'it's only Tuesday. And we're all tired. What are we going to be like by Friday?' Sadly, she never found out, as I slept straight through my alarm and didn't make it to Friday's lecture, which I NEVER normally do. But here I have very little motivation to get up for lectures I don't enjoy and should never have had to take in the first place. But I did have a lovely phone call from the Superwoman of Lancaster, who is Olga, on Friday. I answered the phone with 'hola' and she replied with her wonderful 'hola hola'! When she'd told me who she was I was like 'ohhh hi!' and then I got 'hello hello!'. I've never been more grateful for a phone call!
Anyhow, we had a great chat, and it feels good to know that someone in the department still cares whether we're all alive or dead. I don't even say that in a melodramatic sense, because once the department are done with our year they'll need to go for a lie down in a darkened room with a couple of asprin. In fact, they should probably bulk-buy the stuff for our final year, because all the 333 courses (these are new courses they're trying to introduce that will be compulsory in our final year) are going to be met with a certain degree of confusion. Watch this space. It doesn't help that we're all pretty confused people to start with, and when something's never been done before there's no one to tell us we'll be ok!
Yesterday I went to San Sebastian, all aloney on my owney, which was a wee bit scary but ultimately very much worth it. It was a lovely day, although every time a Spanish person said anything to me I suddenly didn't understand. It was incredible. And it just proves that foreign languages are not supposed to be spoken on a Saturday. I took 176 pictures or something crazy - 165 of which have made it onto facebook. I've no clue where the missing 11 are, but seriously guys, if 165 aren't enough for you, you need help (or something to do). The annoying thing was that the bay faces the wrong way to see a decent sunset in San Seb... Ironically my father got better sunset pics over Clifton (that part of York with the highest crime rate - I found PROOF so now everyone can stop telling me it's lovely) than I did in San Seb. Still, I got lots of lovely pics nonetheless.
And tomorrow commences the healthy eating and manic exercise regime with Suzy. I've completely given up on eating proper food it seems, so tomorrow all shall change! We're also going to go for some nice power walks by the river and hopefully get them to coincide with the sunset, to spur us on! The one thing I can say about Bilbao, is it's gorgeous in the evening and night. It's quite nice in the day if you wander round with your eyes closed, or only look at the Guggenheim (that thing on most of my pics that looks like a Blue Peter ship).
So, hasta luego blogueros! Much love, and thank you for reading my bloggio - I do appreciate it :) xxxx
This week has passed in a flurry of everyone being absolutely pooped. On Tuesday the teacher of our 9am was like 'it's only Tuesday. And we're all tired. What are we going to be like by Friday?' Sadly, she never found out, as I slept straight through my alarm and didn't make it to Friday's lecture, which I NEVER normally do. But here I have very little motivation to get up for lectures I don't enjoy and should never have had to take in the first place. But I did have a lovely phone call from the Superwoman of Lancaster, who is Olga, on Friday. I answered the phone with 'hola' and she replied with her wonderful 'hola hola'! When she'd told me who she was I was like 'ohhh hi!' and then I got 'hello hello!'. I've never been more grateful for a phone call!
Anyhow, we had a great chat, and it feels good to know that someone in the department still cares whether we're all alive or dead. I don't even say that in a melodramatic sense, because once the department are done with our year they'll need to go for a lie down in a darkened room with a couple of asprin. In fact, they should probably bulk-buy the stuff for our final year, because all the 333 courses (these are new courses they're trying to introduce that will be compulsory in our final year) are going to be met with a certain degree of confusion. Watch this space. It doesn't help that we're all pretty confused people to start with, and when something's never been done before there's no one to tell us we'll be ok!
Yesterday I went to San Sebastian, all aloney on my owney, which was a wee bit scary but ultimately very much worth it. It was a lovely day, although every time a Spanish person said anything to me I suddenly didn't understand. It was incredible. And it just proves that foreign languages are not supposed to be spoken on a Saturday. I took 176 pictures or something crazy - 165 of which have made it onto facebook. I've no clue where the missing 11 are, but seriously guys, if 165 aren't enough for you, you need help (or something to do). The annoying thing was that the bay faces the wrong way to see a decent sunset in San Seb... Ironically my father got better sunset pics over Clifton (that part of York with the highest crime rate - I found PROOF so now everyone can stop telling me it's lovely) than I did in San Seb. Still, I got lots of lovely pics nonetheless.
And tomorrow commences the healthy eating and manic exercise regime with Suzy. I've completely given up on eating proper food it seems, so tomorrow all shall change! We're also going to go for some nice power walks by the river and hopefully get them to coincide with the sunset, to spur us on! The one thing I can say about Bilbao, is it's gorgeous in the evening and night. It's quite nice in the day if you wander round with your eyes closed, or only look at the Guggenheim (that thing on most of my pics that looks like a Blue Peter ship).
So, hasta luego blogueros! Much love, and thank you for reading my bloggio - I do appreciate it :) xxxx
Friday, 11 November 2011
Today's a new day... and Erin's in town!
Hola blogueros.
So yesterday was a bad day. Crazy Grammar Woman (CGW) handed us our tests back, which about 6 of us had passed. Then she spent the rest of the lesson yelling at the ones of us that HAD passed, because we were apparently useless and we know nothing, and we never study. So she had a tizz-attack, which would normally have just been hilarious, but we weren't in the mood. Especially when she told Anila she'd throw chalk at her. (I'm sure I've already mentioned that the white board hasn't quite made it to Spain yet... technology eh!) Then she stood there and said 'so, you can have a test tomorrow. On everything'. So my resolution of not drinking coffee anymore due to lack of night-time sleeping managed to last less than 2 hours, due to severe stress levels. My dedication to that resolution was impressive.
But then things were ok, I went to Steph's lovely piso for tea and biccies, and the sunset was pretty gorgeous (see facebook for the pics). But. Still Lucy-Lou was not all that happy, therefore a late-night skype conversation happened (which is never a good idea - life always looks rubbish when it's dark outside), and my poor long-suffering father was faced with 'Dad I want to come hoooome!'
Still, having had said grammar test this morning (epic fail on every side. But somehow it doesn't feel like a fail when no one else has done well either!) and gone for a coffee with Fitzy (a lovely person I met at Church like the first week I was here), and Erin having arrived in Bilbao... this weekend is looking goooooood :) Now, time for a burger, a nap, teaching English, rubbish TV and happy times at Suzy's this evening with the lovely Erin who's come to make us all feel better! Toda la vida es sueño? No, but it never is. Here's the anthem of my life for the present time:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z8SPwT3nQZ8 - give it a watch if you get chance!
Catch you soon bloggy people who have nothing better to do than listen to me moan! (Just kidding, without you sad people there'd be no need for me to blog, haha)
So yesterday was a bad day. Crazy Grammar Woman (CGW) handed us our tests back, which about 6 of us had passed. Then she spent the rest of the lesson yelling at the ones of us that HAD passed, because we were apparently useless and we know nothing, and we never study. So she had a tizz-attack, which would normally have just been hilarious, but we weren't in the mood. Especially when she told Anila she'd throw chalk at her. (I'm sure I've already mentioned that the white board hasn't quite made it to Spain yet... technology eh!) Then she stood there and said 'so, you can have a test tomorrow. On everything'. So my resolution of not drinking coffee anymore due to lack of night-time sleeping managed to last less than 2 hours, due to severe stress levels. My dedication to that resolution was impressive.
But then things were ok, I went to Steph's lovely piso for tea and biccies, and the sunset was pretty gorgeous (see facebook for the pics). But. Still Lucy-Lou was not all that happy, therefore a late-night skype conversation happened (which is never a good idea - life always looks rubbish when it's dark outside), and my poor long-suffering father was faced with 'Dad I want to come hoooome!'
Still, having had said grammar test this morning (epic fail on every side. But somehow it doesn't feel like a fail when no one else has done well either!) and gone for a coffee with Fitzy (a lovely person I met at Church like the first week I was here), and Erin having arrived in Bilbao... this weekend is looking goooooood :) Now, time for a burger, a nap, teaching English, rubbish TV and happy times at Suzy's this evening with the lovely Erin who's come to make us all feel better! Toda la vida es sueño? No, but it never is. Here's the anthem of my life for the present time:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z8SPwT3nQZ8 - give it a watch if you get chance!
Catch you soon bloggy people who have nothing better to do than listen to me moan! (Just kidding, without you sad people there'd be no need for me to blog, haha)
Friday, 4 November 2011
How can I not look English?
Buenos días blogueros. How are we all? Well this week has been a week with two glorious days off (Monday and Tuesday) in which I slept and drank copious amounts of tea. Mum set me the challenge of using all 240 tea bags she brought with her before I leave (let's face it, not to do so would be a waste!) and I think this 4-day weekend may have made a slight dent in that number.
I have discovered that there is nothing quite like a Spanish supermarket. On the face of it, it looks like an English one, although it does tend to smell slightly more of fish and meat, due to the thousand dead carcasses they have at the back of the shop for adventurous people who don't want their chicken pre-packaged. It's when you get to the checkout that things get exciting. Who says the Spanish don't know how to queue? There is ALWAYS a queue. And none of the 'there are ten people waiting, maybe we should open another till'. Ho no. So you wait. And wait. And wait. You finally get your shopping on the belt, then you have to wait again because the person in front of you didn't realise they had to weigh and print off a label for their half a watermelon. Then the cashier has no sooner given them their change that they start scanning your stuff with a grumpy 'hola', which would be great if the person before you had packed their stuff into bags and gone, but this is an unknown concept in Spain. So you sort of have to shove them (or at the very least, their stuff) out off the way to get to your shopping, put it in a bag the British way, and if you're lucky you occasionally get the previous customer saying 'is that yours or mine?' And I think, well if you'd packed when you were supposed to, you'd know.
Anyhow. You get all your stuff in bags, you pay, you leave. And then you pop into another shop to have a nosey, some seemingly nice woman is there looking at the same thing as you and she says 'aren't these lovely' and you say 'indeed they are', which gives away the fact you're not Spanish. She says 'oh, you're Russian!' You reply 'oh no, I'm English'. Then she turns her nose up in the most literal manner known to man, and she says 'well your skin's the wrong colour to be English'.
The thing is, I would have found this quite funny if I still had a sense of humour and if she didn't mean it in a racist manner. Which she did (I guess you had to be there). It's something we've noticed up here... if you're anything other than 'Spanish-looking' some people give you the widest berth known to man. I say some because some people don't mind talking to us and love our hilarious approximation of a Spanish accent, but Suzy had to tell her life story to the woman in the post office before she'd give her her package, all because she's got an Egyptian last name on her passport. I've been into some shops, not said a word AT ALL, and the shop assistant has imediately not spoken in Spanish. Usually they go into English, but occasionally you get some random language because they assume you're from somewhere because of how you look. The only reason I mention it, is because I now appreciate just how well England has done by comparison. Of course there's still a long way to go, but actually, our little island has done a better job than Bilbao so far.
I'd not be as bothered if this hadn't followed a bit of a stressful week (hard to believe with two days off). We have another 5 page essay to hand in on Monday, but as the tutor doesn't set a specific day and just says 'you have 15 days' it gets awfully confusing. I mean, do bank holidays count? Do weekends? What if you don't have class on day 15?
Anyway, I will try to find something more fun to talk about next time. Has to be said, I'm a bit sick of being here now and am just at that stage where I can't even take the mickey out of my experiences because I don't find them funny anymore. The little things wear you down after a while. Still, normal Lucy-Cakes blogging should resume soon. I should certainly have had a cup of tea before writing this, it would have turned out differently! In the meantime, if you find my sense of humour, please send it back.
I have discovered that there is nothing quite like a Spanish supermarket. On the face of it, it looks like an English one, although it does tend to smell slightly more of fish and meat, due to the thousand dead carcasses they have at the back of the shop for adventurous people who don't want their chicken pre-packaged. It's when you get to the checkout that things get exciting. Who says the Spanish don't know how to queue? There is ALWAYS a queue. And none of the 'there are ten people waiting, maybe we should open another till'. Ho no. So you wait. And wait. And wait. You finally get your shopping on the belt, then you have to wait again because the person in front of you didn't realise they had to weigh and print off a label for their half a watermelon. Then the cashier has no sooner given them their change that they start scanning your stuff with a grumpy 'hola', which would be great if the person before you had packed their stuff into bags and gone, but this is an unknown concept in Spain. So you sort of have to shove them (or at the very least, their stuff) out off the way to get to your shopping, put it in a bag the British way, and if you're lucky you occasionally get the previous customer saying 'is that yours or mine?' And I think, well if you'd packed when you were supposed to, you'd know.
Anyhow. You get all your stuff in bags, you pay, you leave. And then you pop into another shop to have a nosey, some seemingly nice woman is there looking at the same thing as you and she says 'aren't these lovely' and you say 'indeed they are', which gives away the fact you're not Spanish. She says 'oh, you're Russian!' You reply 'oh no, I'm English'. Then she turns her nose up in the most literal manner known to man, and she says 'well your skin's the wrong colour to be English'.
The thing is, I would have found this quite funny if I still had a sense of humour and if she didn't mean it in a racist manner. Which she did (I guess you had to be there). It's something we've noticed up here... if you're anything other than 'Spanish-looking' some people give you the widest berth known to man. I say some because some people don't mind talking to us and love our hilarious approximation of a Spanish accent, but Suzy had to tell her life story to the woman in the post office before she'd give her her package, all because she's got an Egyptian last name on her passport. I've been into some shops, not said a word AT ALL, and the shop assistant has imediately not spoken in Spanish. Usually they go into English, but occasionally you get some random language because they assume you're from somewhere because of how you look. The only reason I mention it, is because I now appreciate just how well England has done by comparison. Of course there's still a long way to go, but actually, our little island has done a better job than Bilbao so far.
I'd not be as bothered if this hadn't followed a bit of a stressful week (hard to believe with two days off). We have another 5 page essay to hand in on Monday, but as the tutor doesn't set a specific day and just says 'you have 15 days' it gets awfully confusing. I mean, do bank holidays count? Do weekends? What if you don't have class on day 15?
Anyway, I will try to find something more fun to talk about next time. Has to be said, I'm a bit sick of being here now and am just at that stage where I can't even take the mickey out of my experiences because I don't find them funny anymore. The little things wear you down after a while. Still, normal Lucy-Cakes blogging should resume soon. I should certainly have had a cup of tea before writing this, it would have turned out differently! In the meantime, if you find my sense of humour, please send it back.
Friday, 28 October 2011
Post-script...
P.S. GRAVY!!! I'm disappointed to report that my gravy-making technique is sadly lacking after over two months of not having any Bisto. Well, I shall have to practise! Finally... I think tomorrow will be chips cheese and gravy day. I also think I should open a chippie over here, because the Spanish eat nothing of proper nutritional value (by which I mean, nothing that's deep fried in shedloads of oil).
P.P.S. Skyping Beth when she has no voice cheered me up (not because she has no voice... that would just be mean!), as did skyping Dad who's been holding the fort back in the Motherland. As did having half a conversation with Raph until he fell asleep.
P.P.P.S. Someone please send me some real milk. As a rule I've got nothing against UHT, but just occasionally I would like a glass of the real stuff. At the very least, you could all be putting the kettle on in anticipation for my return to the Motherland.
P.P.S. Skyping Beth when she has no voice cheered me up (not because she has no voice... that would just be mean!), as did skyping Dad who's been holding the fort back in the Motherland. As did having half a conversation with Raph until he fell asleep.
P.P.P.S. Someone please send me some real milk. As a rule I've got nothing against UHT, but just occasionally I would like a glass of the real stuff. At the very least, you could all be putting the kettle on in anticipation for my return to the Motherland.
The end of the tea famine.
Yes, I know it's been a while. As I mentioned last time, Mummy Fisher has been for a visit. It has to be said, Mummy Time was long over-due (even though I went much longer in Lancaster without Mummy Time... strange what moving countries does for you).
We had a lovely week, I have embraced my 4 blocks of cheddar on more than one occasion, and the tea famine has officially ended (Hurrah!). We went to Santander on Tuesday with some other Erasmus people, and we did have gorgeous weather and some stunning views. Mumsie (anyone else remember Crystal Maze when Richard O'Brien used to bounce into the Medieval Zone and say hello to his Mumsie? Well, you can blame Crystal Maze for my use of the word!) was very patient and we did a lot of sitting in parks while I wrote an essay, which I had intended to have finished before she got here, but then I was ill so everything got a little delayed.
So, if you want to see the holiday snaps you'll have to ask Mummy Fisher who is currently on her way back to the Motherland with my case (she left me her bigger one) and 18kg of stuff. If you want to see the snaps of an Erasmus student, they're on my Facebook.
I suppose life has to get to normal again now. Whatever that is. Is it possible to have a 'normal' life when you're Erasmus? It has to be said, I'm on the depressed side now Mumsie's gone home, even though it's only five weeks till my own trip to the Motherland. Five weeks seems like a very long time from where I'm sat though (which is on my uncomfy bed, quelle surprise). Bah. I demand that you all send me post to cheer me up, or at the very least, some kind of chart so I can cross the days off till I get out of this Spanish Stafford-equivalent (talk to my sister about that...) Yes it's pretty, yes it's 'an amazing experience that shapes who you are as a person'. It's also something that only gets to be amazing when you've finished it. While you're in it, it can seem far from it.
Rant over. Time to watch English TV and make a brew. Hasta luego blogueros.
We had a lovely week, I have embraced my 4 blocks of cheddar on more than one occasion, and the tea famine has officially ended (Hurrah!). We went to Santander on Tuesday with some other Erasmus people, and we did have gorgeous weather and some stunning views. Mumsie (anyone else remember Crystal Maze when Richard O'Brien used to bounce into the Medieval Zone and say hello to his Mumsie? Well, you can blame Crystal Maze for my use of the word!) was very patient and we did a lot of sitting in parks while I wrote an essay, which I had intended to have finished before she got here, but then I was ill so everything got a little delayed.
So, if you want to see the holiday snaps you'll have to ask Mummy Fisher who is currently on her way back to the Motherland with my case (she left me her bigger one) and 18kg of stuff. If you want to see the snaps of an Erasmus student, they're on my Facebook.
I suppose life has to get to normal again now. Whatever that is. Is it possible to have a 'normal' life when you're Erasmus? It has to be said, I'm on the depressed side now Mumsie's gone home, even though it's only five weeks till my own trip to the Motherland. Five weeks seems like a very long time from where I'm sat though (which is on my uncomfy bed, quelle surprise). Bah. I demand that you all send me post to cheer me up, or at the very least, some kind of chart so I can cross the days off till I get out of this Spanish Stafford-equivalent (talk to my sister about that...) Yes it's pretty, yes it's 'an amazing experience that shapes who you are as a person'. It's also something that only gets to be amazing when you've finished it. While you're in it, it can seem far from it.
Rant over. Time to watch English TV and make a brew. Hasta luego blogueros.
Sunday, 16 October 2011
Estoy enferma (and no, that doesn't mean infirm... it means sick... you know who you are!)
Bah, humbug, grumble groan... I'm poorly :( I knew this being healthy malarkey was going too well, given my diet is abysmal, the weather horrifically changeable, and I've not slept much recently.
RE: diet. My diet is so appaling because I'm only eating the same few things, unless I eat in the cafeteria. I can hardly cook beef without gravy, and after the cafeteria served pig's head one day I'm a little suspicious of buying pork. Add to that the fact that all our pans are disgusting (and normally in the sink rather than ready to use) and the kitchen is a tip, that leaves me cooking using one frying pan at best. So it's usually some kind of chicken/tomato/rice/sweetcorn dish (sometimes having beef mince instead of chicken). Tuna is my new found friend - because it comes in Olive Oil it has a gorgeous vinegary flavour and it's just yum, so often I find myself recreating the feeding of the five-thousand (minus 4999 of the people).
RE: Changeable weather. It was 9 degrees the other day. Yesterday it was 37 again. I rest my case.
RE: Lack of sleep. As Lancaster people know, my sleeping is, in a word, erratic. Although I've not done too badly since the night I fell straight out of bed and onto the floor, during the past three nights sleep has not really happened. I went to the farmacia to see if they had some Kalms Sleep equivalent, and I got some crazy pills that have only served to make sure I only have a really light sleep instead of a deep one. Great. Cheers for that Spain! I have no doubt that this wouldn't be a problem if my bed wasn't so darn squeeky! Every time I move I wake myself up. So I have given up on said pills (that will teach me to try the herbal remedy rather than snatching the over-the-counter sleep inducers that they sell here. Why did I not go buy them, I hear you say. Because Farmacias here don't open Saturday afternoon or Sunday). In general, I blame my lack of sleep on the lack of a Learning Zone. Last year, when I used the LZ as my office, I slept much better. Now my room is my office and I can't shut off at night. Bah. Lancaster 1-0 Spain (sorry, I knicked this point system from Jack).
So I'm a little fed up, a little miserable, and waiting for fresher's flu to fall properly. Oh the joys. Also, little bit gutted to have now missed around 6 of Soulrigg's gigs (and let's face it, by the end of the year, it'll be a heck of a lot more). Beth and Emily had better be waving their pompoms double hard to make up for it.
However there is a light... MUMMY FISHER ARRIVES ON FRIDAYYYY!!! And with her she's bringing 240 tea bags (PG Tips), a tub of Bisto, 1.6kg cheddar, and my winter coat. Life gets better on Friday. Fact.
Hasta luego blogueros! x
RE: diet. My diet is so appaling because I'm only eating the same few things, unless I eat in the cafeteria. I can hardly cook beef without gravy, and after the cafeteria served pig's head one day I'm a little suspicious of buying pork. Add to that the fact that all our pans are disgusting (and normally in the sink rather than ready to use) and the kitchen is a tip, that leaves me cooking using one frying pan at best. So it's usually some kind of chicken/tomato/rice/sweetcorn dish (sometimes having beef mince instead of chicken). Tuna is my new found friend - because it comes in Olive Oil it has a gorgeous vinegary flavour and it's just yum, so often I find myself recreating the feeding of the five-thousand (minus 4999 of the people).
RE: Changeable weather. It was 9 degrees the other day. Yesterday it was 37 again. I rest my case.
RE: Lack of sleep. As Lancaster people know, my sleeping is, in a word, erratic. Although I've not done too badly since the night I fell straight out of bed and onto the floor, during the past three nights sleep has not really happened. I went to the farmacia to see if they had some Kalms Sleep equivalent, and I got some crazy pills that have only served to make sure I only have a really light sleep instead of a deep one. Great. Cheers for that Spain! I have no doubt that this wouldn't be a problem if my bed wasn't so darn squeeky! Every time I move I wake myself up. So I have given up on said pills (that will teach me to try the herbal remedy rather than snatching the over-the-counter sleep inducers that they sell here. Why did I not go buy them, I hear you say. Because Farmacias here don't open Saturday afternoon or Sunday). In general, I blame my lack of sleep on the lack of a Learning Zone. Last year, when I used the LZ as my office, I slept much better. Now my room is my office and I can't shut off at night. Bah. Lancaster 1-0 Spain (sorry, I knicked this point system from Jack).
So I'm a little fed up, a little miserable, and waiting for fresher's flu to fall properly. Oh the joys. Also, little bit gutted to have now missed around 6 of Soulrigg's gigs (and let's face it, by the end of the year, it'll be a heck of a lot more). Beth and Emily had better be waving their pompoms double hard to make up for it.
However there is a light... MUMMY FISHER ARRIVES ON FRIDAYYYY!!! And with her she's bringing 240 tea bags (PG Tips), a tub of Bisto, 1.6kg cheddar, and my winter coat. Life gets better on Friday. Fact.
Hasta luego blogueros! x
Monday, 10 October 2011
Bad weather bunting, lizards, and words begining with q/c.
It's finally reached a sensible temperature over here! Bring out the bunting! Little bit ironic, given my sunglasses broke last Wednesday. I literally relished this weekend - on Saturday I went out for a lovely walk by the river. Of course, I thought I'd be adventurous and turn right to walk away from the uni as I hadn't been that way before. Needless to say, I found the rough end of Bilbao and turned around and walked back pretty quickly! So I carried on, past the uni and on towards Casco Viejo. I took quite a few pictures, and I saw a little lizard which made my day for some reason. I suppose I just hadn't expected to see it. However, a camera with a more powerful zoom would have been better as it was quite small! I continued on, then took advantage of one of the many benches that are scatted over Bilbao and got all creative and did some writing (by the end of this year I'm going to have a lot of year abroad poetry written!). Then I walked back to the piso again on the other side of the river, feeling pretty content with life.
Saturday night we went for chocolate con churrios (which are just divine... really thick hot choc with bits of fried, sweetened batter to dip... NOM!) and we talked in Spanish all night. It was so fun, aside from the slightly scary waitress who actually turned out to be ok in the end. We even talked Spanish with Spanish people (shock, horror!) and they didn't run away. So they were brave. We caused hilarity on the metro home as we, still speaking in Spanish, declared that although we could discuss the EU in Spanish, we had no idea how to ask for a haircut. Furthermore, what is the Spanish word for a fringe? And what is the correct terminology for 'layers'? In the end, I decided I'd probably wait until England! But that evening, as we were talking, I finally had the 'ooo I'm glad I'm here' feeling. It didn't linger all that long, but I am making my peace with this place a bit.
Sunday I stayed in and did my work, which took all day for some reason, but there was a lot of it - including a presentation. I felt pretty under-prepared, but I did the presentation today and it wasn't so bad, I think Lancaster has prepared me well to fight the inherant instinct within us all that makes us want to throw up, pee, and run out of the room when we turn round and face the class and know that we're facing almost certain doom. I say almost certain, because it never happens, therefore it should really be 'uncertain' doom... but your emotions tell you it's certain doom whether the result is doom or not. Let's move on.
It's been a good day today, as I've managed to change my dissertation text to one that is actually pretty interesting - hurrah! And I was brave enough to charlar (chat) with the teacher for the literature module we're doing that's all about philosophy. It got a bit complicated because the verb 'creer' and the verb 'crear' are very similar, and both were in frequent use in that class! 'Es que quiere creer, o que creer es crear, o querer cree...' you get the idea. Complicado? Mucho!
All I have to do now is survive Historia de Espana tomorrow and Wednesday (which is more difficult than it sounds. Rarely have I been driven to such depths of despair in a class... and DELC people know that that is saying something!). Hasta luego blogueros xxx
Saturday night we went for chocolate con churrios (which are just divine... really thick hot choc with bits of fried, sweetened batter to dip... NOM!) and we talked in Spanish all night. It was so fun, aside from the slightly scary waitress who actually turned out to be ok in the end. We even talked Spanish with Spanish people (shock, horror!) and they didn't run away. So they were brave. We caused hilarity on the metro home as we, still speaking in Spanish, declared that although we could discuss the EU in Spanish, we had no idea how to ask for a haircut. Furthermore, what is the Spanish word for a fringe? And what is the correct terminology for 'layers'? In the end, I decided I'd probably wait until England! But that evening, as we were talking, I finally had the 'ooo I'm glad I'm here' feeling. It didn't linger all that long, but I am making my peace with this place a bit.
Sunday I stayed in and did my work, which took all day for some reason, but there was a lot of it - including a presentation. I felt pretty under-prepared, but I did the presentation today and it wasn't so bad, I think Lancaster has prepared me well to fight the inherant instinct within us all that makes us want to throw up, pee, and run out of the room when we turn round and face the class and know that we're facing almost certain doom. I say almost certain, because it never happens, therefore it should really be 'uncertain' doom... but your emotions tell you it's certain doom whether the result is doom or not. Let's move on.
It's been a good day today, as I've managed to change my dissertation text to one that is actually pretty interesting - hurrah! And I was brave enough to charlar (chat) with the teacher for the literature module we're doing that's all about philosophy. It got a bit complicated because the verb 'creer' and the verb 'crear' are very similar, and both were in frequent use in that class! 'Es que quiere creer, o que creer es crear, o querer cree...' you get the idea. Complicado? Mucho!
All I have to do now is survive Historia de Espana tomorrow and Wednesday (which is more difficult than it sounds. Rarely have I been driven to such depths of despair in a class... and DELC people know that that is saying something!). Hasta luego blogueros xxx
Monday, 3 October 2011
Philosophy, wherefore art thou?
Begin: Generic appology over lack of blog posts.
Well there's not a lot to say really. We didn't do much at the weekend, thanks to the hideously hot weather (it comes to something when it's too hot to go to the beach). I went to church, but in all honesty, I got none of the sermon and every time we were praying, I was praying for some feeling to come back into my backside (wooden benches).
I'm actually growing a slight love for Spanish philosophy (horror of horrors). I am starting to ask myself questions like 'what am I doing here' which is a very deep question. I may even write a book on it one day, and get rich. Or possibly exiled, depending how scathing my view of Spain is by then.
Also, I am contemplating the important philosophical question 'why the Jemima Puddle Duck have I managed to come to the rainiest part of Spain when they decide to have the warmest October weekend on record?' Answers to that on a postcard please, I can't be bothered reading a thesis on it. Keep it below 100 words, throw some cheddar in and I'll be happy as Larry (whoever he is. I bet he's in England with a full pot of tea, a plate of chips cheese and gravy, and with a fridge that things don't disapear from. I've now taken to labelling my food. Like I did for about a week when I first got to Lancaster before I realised that people in Lancaster are nice).
Today I was sat in the cafeteria talking English (yes yes, I know!) and a woman came up to me and asked me if I wanted to teach her son English. I tell you, you need no qualifications round here. I could be anyone and yet this woman wants to entrust her son to me, so I can aflict him with my Yorkshire accent. Oh well, looks good on the old CV. On the Yorkshire accent note, I am getting broader from being out here. After all, I am in the north, it just happens to be the north of a different country.
We went out for a dodgy Chinese for Suzy's birthday on Saturday night. It was quite pleasant, except for the waitresses (who threw our food at us) and the food itself. Well they did good rice... But it was good to get together and pretend we have a social life and pretend that we fit into the usual 'Erasmus' bracket of student. When I say 'we', I actually mean 'I', of course.
Right, I'm off to bedfordshire. Busy day again tomorrow (sob) with scary Grammar woman who is going to give us a test on what we've learnt so far... see you on the other side, blogueros. xxx
Well there's not a lot to say really. We didn't do much at the weekend, thanks to the hideously hot weather (it comes to something when it's too hot to go to the beach). I went to church, but in all honesty, I got none of the sermon and every time we were praying, I was praying for some feeling to come back into my backside (wooden benches).
I'm actually growing a slight love for Spanish philosophy (horror of horrors). I am starting to ask myself questions like 'what am I doing here' which is a very deep question. I may even write a book on it one day, and get rich. Or possibly exiled, depending how scathing my view of Spain is by then.
Also, I am contemplating the important philosophical question 'why the Jemima Puddle Duck have I managed to come to the rainiest part of Spain when they decide to have the warmest October weekend on record?' Answers to that on a postcard please, I can't be bothered reading a thesis on it. Keep it below 100 words, throw some cheddar in and I'll be happy as Larry (whoever he is. I bet he's in England with a full pot of tea, a plate of chips cheese and gravy, and with a fridge that things don't disapear from. I've now taken to labelling my food. Like I did for about a week when I first got to Lancaster before I realised that people in Lancaster are nice).
Today I was sat in the cafeteria talking English (yes yes, I know!) and a woman came up to me and asked me if I wanted to teach her son English. I tell you, you need no qualifications round here. I could be anyone and yet this woman wants to entrust her son to me, so I can aflict him with my Yorkshire accent. Oh well, looks good on the old CV. On the Yorkshire accent note, I am getting broader from being out here. After all, I am in the north, it just happens to be the north of a different country.
We went out for a dodgy Chinese for Suzy's birthday on Saturday night. It was quite pleasant, except for the waitresses (who threw our food at us) and the food itself. Well they did good rice... But it was good to get together and pretend we have a social life and pretend that we fit into the usual 'Erasmus' bracket of student. When I say 'we', I actually mean 'I', of course.
Right, I'm off to bedfordshire. Busy day again tomorrow (sob) with scary Grammar woman who is going to give us a test on what we've learnt so far... see you on the other side, blogueros. xxx
Monday, 26 September 2011
One paso too far!
They've really done it this time. I have just bought something which I assumed was fruit juice, in dinky little cartons (to stop people drinking them... -_-) But what do I find when I look at it properly? I find the words 'Zumo+Leche'. Juice+milk. WHAT???? I am drinking a crazy mixture of milk and fruit juice. What is this madness? On the other foot, it is quite nice, in a very weird 'milk and juice shouldn't be together, but weirdly it kinda works, but I feel a bit wrong drinking it' way. You know that feeling you get when you watch someone snogging by accident? Where it's kinda wrong but you can't quite look away? Like that. No one can tell me now I'm not adventurous. I am trying local cuisine, albeit inadvertantly.
Anyway, in other news, we went back to Sopelana beach yesterday for a bit of sun sea and sand. The highlight of which was possibly Anila looking at me and saying 'You know you don't tan at all, do you?' And me saying 'nooooo, I'd never noticed!' It's true, I'm pale as anything still, even my Spanish teacher told me to be careful in the sun because I'm white. Cheers everyone, I did tell you before I got here!
Our new flatmate arrived on Saturday, and Adele is just lovely, as is her mum. Things did get a bit complicated language-wise as it does feel a bit odd, speaking French in Spain! When the landlord turned up he was talking Spanish/English, Adele's mum was talking Spanish/French, and I was somewhere in the middle talking Spanish/French/English when someone didn't understand something. I ask, is there any wonder I've had a headache!
Also, we have a particularly sadistic teacher who has given us 64 pages of Spanish philosophy to plough through... for WEDNESDAY! She was just there saying 'oh the Spanish is easy, but the concepts are very difficult to explain'. Oh good, just what we need! The annoying thing is that her lectures are pretty interesting, and she reminds me so much of my A-level teacher that I want to do well anyway, but it is a bit much I think, to give us two days to read that much Spanish! It cost a fortune to print off as well.
Right, best get to it. I'm going to finish my bebida (drink) and start reading or something. Uck... milk and fruit juice... Hasta luego (or, as the people round here say, 'a uego' - they don't care much for proper articulation. Drives me mad and the Miss Dunn within wants to tell them to stand up straight and articulate. But anyhow.) Adiós, blogueros!
Anyway, in other news, we went back to Sopelana beach yesterday for a bit of sun sea and sand. The highlight of which was possibly Anila looking at me and saying 'You know you don't tan at all, do you?' And me saying 'nooooo, I'd never noticed!' It's true, I'm pale as anything still, even my Spanish teacher told me to be careful in the sun because I'm white. Cheers everyone, I did tell you before I got here!
Our new flatmate arrived on Saturday, and Adele is just lovely, as is her mum. Things did get a bit complicated language-wise as it does feel a bit odd, speaking French in Spain! When the landlord turned up he was talking Spanish/English, Adele's mum was talking Spanish/French, and I was somewhere in the middle talking Spanish/French/English when someone didn't understand something. I ask, is there any wonder I've had a headache!
Also, we have a particularly sadistic teacher who has given us 64 pages of Spanish philosophy to plough through... for WEDNESDAY! She was just there saying 'oh the Spanish is easy, but the concepts are very difficult to explain'. Oh good, just what we need! The annoying thing is that her lectures are pretty interesting, and she reminds me so much of my A-level teacher that I want to do well anyway, but it is a bit much I think, to give us two days to read that much Spanish! It cost a fortune to print off as well.
Right, best get to it. I'm going to finish my bebida (drink) and start reading or something. Uck... milk and fruit juice... Hasta luego (or, as the people round here say, 'a uego' - they don't care much for proper articulation. Drives me mad and the Miss Dunn within wants to tell them to stand up straight and articulate. But anyhow.) Adiós, blogueros!
Saturday, 24 September 2011
Warning: contains sentimental clap trap and bad grammar
Yet another thing that crops up to make this whole experience seem more real than a holiday, is facebook's insistance on telling us that people are heading back to Lancaster. This brings about a strange feeling that is rather hard to describe, although both me and Bex attempted to do so today!
Obviously, it's pretty hard leaving behind your family. Mum, Dad, Big Sis, I miss you very much. And the grandparents, who I chatted to on skype this week and whom are just as amazing as ever, and who bring out the best in my Yorkshire accent. But as well, all the people I've been living with for the past two years, I miss you too. Because we bonded over leaving home, uni work, strange new surroundings... it's a very different bond to the one you have with your family but in some ways it's no less strong. Where was I heading with this rambling trip to nowhere? Ah yes.
The point is, Lancaster is where we should be, those of us on a year abroad. And it's rather unnatural, seeing everyone else trickle back to OUR uni, OUR houses, OUR city, and knowing we're not going to be there this year. I suppose it's all made worse by the fact that when we do get back, some people won't be there because they'll have graduated, or even gone on their year abroad. It is a strange thing.
Luckily, we know it'll get better once everyone's gone back to Lancaster, started their term, and everything gets back to normal. Then the time will fly by! But like Bex said to me earlier, we're wishing the time away till we get to see people again, when really we should be making the most of this wonderful opportunity we've been offered. I've decided that we'll probably be wishing the time away for most of this year, but that doesn't mean we're not enjoying ourselves, and it doesn't mean we're not making the most of it. It just means that we're completely and utterly overwhelmed by how much people at home love us. Now who in their right minds would want to leave that behind?
No idea if that makes any sense. I suppose it can't really, unless you've been mad enough to set off on this kind of crazy trip!
In other news - I got Iplayer to work, our 4th flatmate has arrived, and my head is now automatically setting itself to Spanish. English is becoming harder to use (so appologies for the terrible grammar in this). Crazy times. Cheddar rationing is going well, Cola Cao tub is already half-empty, and I'm up to my eye balls in work. Ahhhhh year abroad! <3 La dulce vida, no? xxxx
Obviously, it's pretty hard leaving behind your family. Mum, Dad, Big Sis, I miss you very much. And the grandparents, who I chatted to on skype this week and whom are just as amazing as ever, and who bring out the best in my Yorkshire accent. But as well, all the people I've been living with for the past two years, I miss you too. Because we bonded over leaving home, uni work, strange new surroundings... it's a very different bond to the one you have with your family but in some ways it's no less strong. Where was I heading with this rambling trip to nowhere? Ah yes.
The point is, Lancaster is where we should be, those of us on a year abroad. And it's rather unnatural, seeing everyone else trickle back to OUR uni, OUR houses, OUR city, and knowing we're not going to be there this year. I suppose it's all made worse by the fact that when we do get back, some people won't be there because they'll have graduated, or even gone on their year abroad. It is a strange thing.
Luckily, we know it'll get better once everyone's gone back to Lancaster, started their term, and everything gets back to normal. Then the time will fly by! But like Bex said to me earlier, we're wishing the time away till we get to see people again, when really we should be making the most of this wonderful opportunity we've been offered. I've decided that we'll probably be wishing the time away for most of this year, but that doesn't mean we're not enjoying ourselves, and it doesn't mean we're not making the most of it. It just means that we're completely and utterly overwhelmed by how much people at home love us. Now who in their right minds would want to leave that behind?
No idea if that makes any sense. I suppose it can't really, unless you've been mad enough to set off on this kind of crazy trip!
In other news - I got Iplayer to work, our 4th flatmate has arrived, and my head is now automatically setting itself to Spanish. English is becoming harder to use (so appologies for the terrible grammar in this). Crazy times. Cheddar rationing is going well, Cola Cao tub is already half-empty, and I'm up to my eye balls in work. Ahhhhh year abroad! <3 La dulce vida, no? xxxx
Thursday, 22 September 2011
Café, cola cao, cheddar and gravy.
I think I'll be spending a lot of blog posts apologising over lack of blog posts!
Things have finally calmed down in terms of registering and having a timetable, although I almost wish they hadn't as now the real work begins! And boy do they know how to set work over here. In addition to the million and one hours you spend in class, try adding at least another 3 hours every night - and that's only if you're lucky. I bought a copy of El País almost a fortnight ago haven't got much past the first page. It sort of defeats the object of buying a newspaper if you're not going to get round to reading it until it's a collector's item!
Now, dear blogueros, you know me. I am certainly not afraid of hard work - if I was I wouldn't have gone to uni to read languages, or indeed any subject other than David Beckham Studies (yes it exists - http://www.toptenz.net/to-10-useless-college-classes-degrees.php ) But expecting us to read around 80 pages of philosophical Spanish arguments for the next day is a little extreme - especially as we're Erasmus students.
The only way to cope is with coffee and cola cao. Coffee here is amazing. It's not too weak, not too strong, and you drink it like you down a shot in a bar (or maybe that's just me to get me going on a morning...) Cola Cao is the Spanish version of Nesquick, but it's sooooooo good. My case will be full of the stuff when I come home because it's lush! However, boiling milk in a pan is a bit of a faff, and for this reason I would very much like a proper espresso machine for my final year at uni, as then steamed milk will be at my fingertips (as will coffee, which is probably more important. Darn this European lifestyle for getting me hooked on the stuff!).
The Year Abroad insanity is quite possibly taking hold, however. I purchased some cheddar cheese from Corte Ingles (like Debenhams but with a supermarket on the top floor) but at 3E for 200g I can't afford that habit! So my solution, to make my cheddar last, is not to chop it with a knife, but use my potato peeler to get extra-fine slices. Is this extreme? Not in the slightest. You get a perfect slice every time, and your cheese lasts forever. And I don't have a cheese grater.
Also, me and Suzy are craving gravy. I'm sure most of you know that gravy is essential to life for notherners, and you can't get it here. There's stock, but to be quite honest you may as well grind salt into your dinner - the stock here's terrible! But today, in the cafeteria, there was beef and chips and... GRAVYYYY!!! Well, some Spanish equivalent. The point is, it was wonderful. Me and Suzy demolished it, then went the whole hog and mopped up the gravy with bread. Then Suzy turns to me and says 'I never dip bread in gravy at home'. And I look at her and say 'no, neither do I.' So SOMEHOW, we've become more English. Impressive.
Anyway, back to it I think. I need to type up some notes before I forget what the heck it all means in my crazy Spanglish. A dictaphone is hopefully on the cards to make it all that bit easier. I could listen my lectures in my sleep then (see what I mean about insanity???) Much love to all xxx
Things have finally calmed down in terms of registering and having a timetable, although I almost wish they hadn't as now the real work begins! And boy do they know how to set work over here. In addition to the million and one hours you spend in class, try adding at least another 3 hours every night - and that's only if you're lucky. I bought a copy of El País almost a fortnight ago haven't got much past the first page. It sort of defeats the object of buying a newspaper if you're not going to get round to reading it until it's a collector's item!
Now, dear blogueros, you know me. I am certainly not afraid of hard work - if I was I wouldn't have gone to uni to read languages, or indeed any subject other than David Beckham Studies (yes it exists - http://www.toptenz.net/to-10-useless-college-classes-degrees.php ) But expecting us to read around 80 pages of philosophical Spanish arguments for the next day is a little extreme - especially as we're Erasmus students.
The only way to cope is with coffee and cola cao. Coffee here is amazing. It's not too weak, not too strong, and you drink it like you down a shot in a bar (or maybe that's just me to get me going on a morning...) Cola Cao is the Spanish version of Nesquick, but it's sooooooo good. My case will be full of the stuff when I come home because it's lush! However, boiling milk in a pan is a bit of a faff, and for this reason I would very much like a proper espresso machine for my final year at uni, as then steamed milk will be at my fingertips (as will coffee, which is probably more important. Darn this European lifestyle for getting me hooked on the stuff!).
The Year Abroad insanity is quite possibly taking hold, however. I purchased some cheddar cheese from Corte Ingles (like Debenhams but with a supermarket on the top floor) but at 3E for 200g I can't afford that habit! So my solution, to make my cheddar last, is not to chop it with a knife, but use my potato peeler to get extra-fine slices. Is this extreme? Not in the slightest. You get a perfect slice every time, and your cheese lasts forever. And I don't have a cheese grater.
Also, me and Suzy are craving gravy. I'm sure most of you know that gravy is essential to life for notherners, and you can't get it here. There's stock, but to be quite honest you may as well grind salt into your dinner - the stock here's terrible! But today, in the cafeteria, there was beef and chips and... GRAVYYYY!!! Well, some Spanish equivalent. The point is, it was wonderful. Me and Suzy demolished it, then went the whole hog and mopped up the gravy with bread. Then Suzy turns to me and says 'I never dip bread in gravy at home'. And I look at her and say 'no, neither do I.' So SOMEHOW, we've become more English. Impressive.
Anyway, back to it I think. I need to type up some notes before I forget what the heck it all means in my crazy Spanglish. A dictaphone is hopefully on the cards to make it all that bit easier. I could listen my lectures in my sleep then (see what I mean about insanity???) Much love to all xxx
Friday, 16 September 2011
Thank chocolate con churros it's FRIDAY!
Ah I'm tired. Yesterday got hideously hot again, 35 degrees, so I hid from the weather in my room. It was too hot to open the window. Now that's heat for you! Today it's rained, which was quite nice actually, makes me feel a bit more at home.
I went to uni a little more successfully this week at least, and timetable is sorted and the classes are ok, though there's going to be a heck of a lot of work going on (novel idea for a student). I also did some washing, which is always fun, as to get to the washing line I have to climb out of my window. Health and Safety hasn't reached Spain yet - evidently.
However, even the health and safety police can't save me from my own stupidity, and I fell down the stairs today. Clever me. I was on my way to a salsa class with the girls, and leaving my piso happened to be the most dangerous bit! On the up, nothing much hurt but my pride which is lucky really, given it's a marble floor!
Anyway, catch you later blogueros. I'm going to salsa to bed I think xx
I went to uni a little more successfully this week at least, and timetable is sorted and the classes are ok, though there's going to be a heck of a lot of work going on (novel idea for a student). I also did some washing, which is always fun, as to get to the washing line I have to climb out of my window. Health and Safety hasn't reached Spain yet - evidently.
However, even the health and safety police can't save me from my own stupidity, and I fell down the stairs today. Clever me. I was on my way to a salsa class with the girls, and leaving my piso happened to be the most dangerous bit! On the up, nothing much hurt but my pride which is lucky really, given it's a marble floor!
Anyway, catch you later blogueros. I'm going to salsa to bed I think xx
Wednesday, 14 September 2011
Well at least I've managed to timetable a rant into my day...
Blimey O'Reilley's Trousers. I don't even know if I'm supposed to be stressed right now, I'm so confused I can't remember.
So the timetabling thing here is a sham. The technical way things are done here is that you search through the uni website and pick courses before you get here, write them on your learning agreement which is then approved by the international office, then you get here, go to your faculty, find out you're not in a very good faculty for what you want to do after all, read the timetables that are on the walls, and discover that 1) nothing interests you, 2) the ones that look passable have lecturers that mumble, or 3) that the times of class clash with everything else.
And woe betide anyone who wants to take something out of their own faculty.
So I wrote some classes on my learning agreement. I get here, can't find half of them on the wall, assume they've been pulled, pick others, try some out, etc etc. I find one that I really enjoy. Then I discover that I can't take some other modules that I'd picked because they're actually fourth year courses (and therefore very hard apparently), and so I need to find 7 credits from somewhere. Well guess what? EVERYTHING clashes with EVERYTHING. Oh, the other stupid thing here is that I'm trying to count ECTS credits, but Deusto have their own credit system which means they list everything as one credit higher than it is in ECTS. So, things that I thought were 6 credits are actually only 5. Which just meant I was even shorter than I thought (as, of course, no one pointed the credit system out to us... everything just says 'creditos' so I've no idea how we're supposed to know which kind of credits they put on the walls!). To add to the mix, because we were assigned the faculty of Modern Languages, lots of the courses are in English, or in Basque. Neither of which are much flipping good!
The solution to this great big mess? To just take free electives, which are aimed more towards Erasmus students. Literature, Galician, History... very general stuff, but which all fit into a timetable. So, I waved adiós to my favourite theology module (sob) and have just chosen free electives. But even within those, the most interesting ones clashed with my Spanish course, which I can't change. Flipping marvellous.
I went to see the academic coordinator (who practically knows me by name, I've been so much) and she said this was acceptable. But it only added up to 26.5 ECTS. Deusto insist on us registering for 30 ECTS (which is daft, as Lancaster are only going to take my best 22.5 ECTS anyway!) La solución, amigos, is to just write down any old course and to never go. That way, you're registered for 30 but you're doing less.
So, now I've explained the intricacies of the university system here, I bet you're all going to rush to book a year abroad, aren't you? Thought so. Well I now get to write down my courses five times (twice for the uni secretaty, 3 times for the international office - that should give you some clue as to the level of efficiency here). I think I shall take a siesta and hopefully wake up mañana, when of course everything will be just peachy in terms of a timetable. I've got so many pieces of paper scattered about my room that I could paper my wall with crossed-out timetables.
Time to take a chill pill. Hasta luego blogueros (and may I mention that actually speaking Spanish is pretty cool) xxx
So the timetabling thing here is a sham. The technical way things are done here is that you search through the uni website and pick courses before you get here, write them on your learning agreement which is then approved by the international office, then you get here, go to your faculty, find out you're not in a very good faculty for what you want to do after all, read the timetables that are on the walls, and discover that 1) nothing interests you, 2) the ones that look passable have lecturers that mumble, or 3) that the times of class clash with everything else.
And woe betide anyone who wants to take something out of their own faculty.
So I wrote some classes on my learning agreement. I get here, can't find half of them on the wall, assume they've been pulled, pick others, try some out, etc etc. I find one that I really enjoy. Then I discover that I can't take some other modules that I'd picked because they're actually fourth year courses (and therefore very hard apparently), and so I need to find 7 credits from somewhere. Well guess what? EVERYTHING clashes with EVERYTHING. Oh, the other stupid thing here is that I'm trying to count ECTS credits, but Deusto have their own credit system which means they list everything as one credit higher than it is in ECTS. So, things that I thought were 6 credits are actually only 5. Which just meant I was even shorter than I thought (as, of course, no one pointed the credit system out to us... everything just says 'creditos' so I've no idea how we're supposed to know which kind of credits they put on the walls!). To add to the mix, because we were assigned the faculty of Modern Languages, lots of the courses are in English, or in Basque. Neither of which are much flipping good!
The solution to this great big mess? To just take free electives, which are aimed more towards Erasmus students. Literature, Galician, History... very general stuff, but which all fit into a timetable. So, I waved adiós to my favourite theology module (sob) and have just chosen free electives. But even within those, the most interesting ones clashed with my Spanish course, which I can't change. Flipping marvellous.
I went to see the academic coordinator (who practically knows me by name, I've been so much) and she said this was acceptable. But it only added up to 26.5 ECTS. Deusto insist on us registering for 30 ECTS (which is daft, as Lancaster are only going to take my best 22.5 ECTS anyway!) La solución, amigos, is to just write down any old course and to never go. That way, you're registered for 30 but you're doing less.
So, now I've explained the intricacies of the university system here, I bet you're all going to rush to book a year abroad, aren't you? Thought so. Well I now get to write down my courses five times (twice for the uni secretaty, 3 times for the international office - that should give you some clue as to the level of efficiency here). I think I shall take a siesta and hopefully wake up mañana, when of course everything will be just peachy in terms of a timetable. I've got so many pieces of paper scattered about my room that I could paper my wall with crossed-out timetables.
Time to take a chill pill. Hasta luego blogueros (and may I mention that actually speaking Spanish is pretty cool) xxx
Sunday, 11 September 2011
Going to all the places you learn in GCSE classes
Apologies, blogueros, for the lack of blog over the past few days. The ridiculous weather is utterly exhausting (and ghhhhaaaaastly - just for Beth). On Friday it was 39 degrees and we had to go on the walking tour of Bilbao. Luckily, I had the forethought to bring a fan from Inglaterra, which makes me look half Spanish - everyone round here has one (which is pretty cool actually. Wonder if I can re-introduce it to England...) Anyway, Casco Viejo (the centre of Bilbao) is very pretty with tall buildings and quaint little streets, a bit like York but everything's taller and there are less tourists (wouldn't be hard).
Yesterday, fuimos a la playa! (We went to the beach, in good old GCSE fashion.) It wasn't very hot, luckily, as it was a heck of a walk from the metro to the actual beach. That is something I've noticed - the metro here gets you places, but not to where you actually WANT to be. Like, it dumps you in housing estates that are half-built, but it doesn't drop you at the beach, or at the university. It's always at least a 10min walk to anywhere sensible. Anyhow, when we got to the beach, it was very nice. Far too many naked bodies (people will do anything for an even tan round here...) but still, it was the beach. I had the distinction of being the whitest person on said beach and consequently getting the odd look. But I think that was just because the sun was bouncing off my white legs and blinding people. Ooops.
And today, fui a la iglesia (I went to Church). The service was 3 hours long. No joke. And this was in a Baptist church! That'll teach me to try and go to a protestant church in a Catholic country. Lucy Fisher, going against the flow since 1991... But Graham Kendrick's music has made it over here, as has Hillsong. It is a bit strange trying to sing a song you know in English, in Spanish, as some of the translations mean that I personally don't think the words fit.
Anyhow, long-term tea deprivation is setting in slightly. I know because I've had a headache today (thanks to the 3 hours of Spanish I listened to) but I made a pot of tea about an hour ago and instantly felt better. So I brewed up again, but the economic crisis (aka Year Abroad) means that I can only really have one tea bag a day (till Mumsie arrives). By the time the second brew was strong enough to drink it was practically cold, but having a microwave is a marvellous thing.
The other slight paso falso (faux pas) I made was when fui a la supermarcado (I went to the supermarket) yesterday. I got some milk that had a red top. But over here, the milk colours are backwards, so I'd picked up whole milk instead of fully skimmed (it's UHT so anything other than fully skimmed tastes a bit manky). I tell you, I can't wait for the shops to open again tomorrow so I can get some proper milk!
I'm going to attempt to go to uni tomorrow. Good grief. Better gurd my loins and all that. It's going to be stressful! Hasta luego, blogueros! x
Yesterday, fuimos a la playa! (We went to the beach, in good old GCSE fashion.) It wasn't very hot, luckily, as it was a heck of a walk from the metro to the actual beach. That is something I've noticed - the metro here gets you places, but not to where you actually WANT to be. Like, it dumps you in housing estates that are half-built, but it doesn't drop you at the beach, or at the university. It's always at least a 10min walk to anywhere sensible. Anyhow, when we got to the beach, it was very nice. Far too many naked bodies (people will do anything for an even tan round here...) but still, it was the beach. I had the distinction of being the whitest person on said beach and consequently getting the odd look. But I think that was just because the sun was bouncing off my white legs and blinding people. Ooops.
And today, fui a la iglesia (I went to Church). The service was 3 hours long. No joke. And this was in a Baptist church! That'll teach me to try and go to a protestant church in a Catholic country. Lucy Fisher, going against the flow since 1991... But Graham Kendrick's music has made it over here, as has Hillsong. It is a bit strange trying to sing a song you know in English, in Spanish, as some of the translations mean that I personally don't think the words fit.
Anyhow, long-term tea deprivation is setting in slightly. I know because I've had a headache today (thanks to the 3 hours of Spanish I listened to) but I made a pot of tea about an hour ago and instantly felt better. So I brewed up again, but the economic crisis (aka Year Abroad) means that I can only really have one tea bag a day (till Mumsie arrives). By the time the second brew was strong enough to drink it was practically cold, but having a microwave is a marvellous thing.
The other slight paso falso (faux pas) I made was when fui a la supermarcado (I went to the supermarket) yesterday. I got some milk that had a red top. But over here, the milk colours are backwards, so I'd picked up whole milk instead of fully skimmed (it's UHT so anything other than fully skimmed tastes a bit manky). I tell you, I can't wait for the shops to open again tomorrow so I can get some proper milk!
I'm going to attempt to go to uni tomorrow. Good grief. Better gurd my loins and all that. It's going to be stressful! Hasta luego, blogueros! x
Wednesday, 7 September 2011
Was Annie Spanish?
If I hear/see the word 'mañana' once more I will flip out. We went to see which group we'd be in for the Spanish course today. When will they be up? Mañana. So we went to the Guggenheim instead, which is an art gallery full of modern art that looks like nothing. There was quite a moving room which had old TV sets and an old chair in front of each one, and each one had a video playing. They were all interviews with people from a village in the Middle East (can't remember exactly where) and they were going on about all the hardships they'd endured.
After that, I went to eat at the cafeteria again. You can get a 3-course meal for 6,50. I think I'll be a regular there as at least it means I eat properly once a day! Weird thing is, cooking is making me feel pretty homesick, but eating out isn't, so I think for now I'll be sticking to the cafeteria. But I will NOT be trying squid in ink, not for any money I won't! Luckily, there's always pizza available. I wonder what will be available mañana...
I went to Anila's piso too, and they were trying to sort out their internet (I'm so lucky to have it already in my flat!). Well, the long and short of that is that it won't be sorted out till mañana. Wonderful. I wonder whether Annie was Spanish. She's always banging on about tomorrow. I bet a Spanish version of Annie would go down a treat here - people would be singing 'mañana, mañana, te quiero, mañana, estas todavía un día aparté'... I should have translated Annie for my dissertation. Oh well. It's a thought if I ever feel the need to do a PhD.
After that, I went to eat at the cafeteria again. You can get a 3-course meal for 6,50. I think I'll be a regular there as at least it means I eat properly once a day! Weird thing is, cooking is making me feel pretty homesick, but eating out isn't, so I think for now I'll be sticking to the cafeteria. But I will NOT be trying squid in ink, not for any money I won't! Luckily, there's always pizza available. I wonder what will be available mañana...
I went to Anila's piso too, and they were trying to sort out their internet (I'm so lucky to have it already in my flat!). Well, the long and short of that is that it won't be sorted out till mañana. Wonderful. I wonder whether Annie was Spanish. She's always banging on about tomorrow. I bet a Spanish version of Annie would go down a treat here - people would be singing 'mañana, mañana, te quiero, mañana, estas todavía un día aparté'... I should have translated Annie for my dissertation. Oh well. It's a thought if I ever feel the need to do a PhD.
Monday, 5 September 2011
Hola España y gracias Emilia!
Sorry for the lack of blogging. You'd have thought I'd have been on here every night since I arrived but sadly I've been so tired it's just not happened!
Emily and I have spent a lovely few days exploring the area in the simplest way possible. Saturday we left the piso and turned left, Sunday we turned right instead! Methodical, eh? We came across a million parks (randomly in the middle of the avenida), more benches than I care to count, and many many closed shops. Everything here closes at midday on Saturday and all day Sunday, but in fairness things aren't all that cheap here, given it's practically one euro to the pound. It's almost depressing that you don't have to do mental conversions in your head.
Anyway, Emily, in her marvellous style, found me Ben and Jerrys. I've no idea how she did it. But she did. What would I have done without her this weekend??? It was sad saying bye to her and putting her in a taxi with 'pervy McJuan' (actually, when he turned up, he seemed quite nice!), and let's just say I was literally crippled with a bout of 'why the blooming heck did I choose this degree, I'm going to email Olga (Spanish teacher) and tell her I can't cope, am moving back to England pronto and changing my degree to something that probably won't get me a job'. But then I had to pull myself together to go and sign on at the uni, so that was the end of that really. For the first time since getting here, some plonker said 'ayyyy guapa!' at me (oi, fitty! is a rough translation). I'm not sure whether to be offended that it's taken three days, or disgusted that it's happened at all. Hmm. Answers at the end of this blog post please!
I met some English people today (yes I know, the Spanish speaking starts next week, give me a break!) and we had a good old British moan about how we were finding things. I had my first coffee of the semester (un cafe con leche) which tastes like English coffee. But as all of us import coffee, it's hardly surprising. And after that I felt much better. Onward-ho I suppose. I'm eating more than I have done recently. Stupid culture shock. Everything's just a little bit weird, and I've had a lot of trouble eating anything. Obviously I forced stuff down, knowing that this was exactly how I felt the first time I went to France and that I'd get over it eventually. Well it looks as if I am. I was contemplating buying Heinz baked beans (yes you can get them here) just to see if something familiar would go down better, but actually I got a pasta thing that has cheddar in. You can't get cheddar over here (or at least I haven't found it yet) and, as my dad would attest to, there is ALWAYS mature cheddar in our fridge at home. So this is a tricky situation, as you can imagine. But anyway, ate this pasta business and am about to go help myself to some Lays (the equvalent of Walker's crisps, but better). Tomorrow I may also make my way to Lidl, as the supermarket here is OK, just a bit on the expensive side for some things. Though chicken was cheap (and HUGE portions).
Tomorrow I get to go to an official welcome and a trip to the town hall (el ayuntamiento. I remember using that in my AS level role-play... strange what you remember!). So, hasta luego bloggeros (clearly the Spanish term for a blogger. Clearly.) xxxxx
Emily and I have spent a lovely few days exploring the area in the simplest way possible. Saturday we left the piso and turned left, Sunday we turned right instead! Methodical, eh? We came across a million parks (randomly in the middle of the avenida), more benches than I care to count, and many many closed shops. Everything here closes at midday on Saturday and all day Sunday, but in fairness things aren't all that cheap here, given it's practically one euro to the pound. It's almost depressing that you don't have to do mental conversions in your head.
Anyway, Emily, in her marvellous style, found me Ben and Jerrys. I've no idea how she did it. But she did. What would I have done without her this weekend??? It was sad saying bye to her and putting her in a taxi with 'pervy McJuan' (actually, when he turned up, he seemed quite nice!), and let's just say I was literally crippled with a bout of 'why the blooming heck did I choose this degree, I'm going to email Olga (Spanish teacher) and tell her I can't cope, am moving back to England pronto and changing my degree to something that probably won't get me a job'. But then I had to pull myself together to go and sign on at the uni, so that was the end of that really. For the first time since getting here, some plonker said 'ayyyy guapa!' at me (oi, fitty! is a rough translation). I'm not sure whether to be offended that it's taken three days, or disgusted that it's happened at all. Hmm. Answers at the end of this blog post please!
I met some English people today (yes I know, the Spanish speaking starts next week, give me a break!) and we had a good old British moan about how we were finding things. I had my first coffee of the semester (un cafe con leche) which tastes like English coffee. But as all of us import coffee, it's hardly surprising. And after that I felt much better. Onward-ho I suppose. I'm eating more than I have done recently. Stupid culture shock. Everything's just a little bit weird, and I've had a lot of trouble eating anything. Obviously I forced stuff down, knowing that this was exactly how I felt the first time I went to France and that I'd get over it eventually. Well it looks as if I am. I was contemplating buying Heinz baked beans (yes you can get them here) just to see if something familiar would go down better, but actually I got a pasta thing that has cheddar in. You can't get cheddar over here (or at least I haven't found it yet) and, as my dad would attest to, there is ALWAYS mature cheddar in our fridge at home. So this is a tricky situation, as you can imagine. But anyway, ate this pasta business and am about to go help myself to some Lays (the equvalent of Walker's crisps, but better). Tomorrow I may also make my way to Lidl, as the supermarket here is OK, just a bit on the expensive side for some things. Though chicken was cheap (and HUGE portions).
Tomorrow I get to go to an official welcome and a trip to the town hall (el ayuntamiento. I remember using that in my AS level role-play... strange what you remember!). So, hasta luego bloggeros (clearly the Spanish term for a blogger. Clearly.) xxxxx
Friday, 2 September 2011
Reasons to (temporarily) go off your year abroad
I kicked off the day by watching Jeremy Kyle, so I could get suitably annoyed with England and would then want to go to Spain! I was seriously considering just staying in my bed this morning and refusing to move, but then thought better of it.
The journey went far too smoothly, this much is certain! My first time on an aeroplane was fun fun fun, I even giggled at take off! We all got a taxi (which was easier said than done as the taxi driver didn't appear to speak Spanish or English or Basque, rather just made grunting noises) and got kicked out on Suzy's street (which is one street away from mine! WIN!)
So, I found my appartment with Emily and rang the buzzer. No answer. I call the landlord. He tells me he's at least an hour away from Bilbao. Blooming marvellous. So, we headed to the nearest cafe, had a sandwich which made my very delicate stomach literally turn over (and it was cheese and ham, not like it was squid or anything!). The lucky thing is that the cola here is actually coca-cola, the real mccoy!
The landlord called me to ask me where I was, and that he was coming (or something. His English is bad and my Spanish isn't great). So we went to stand outside the appartment again, rang the buzzer again, eventually we got let into the entrance. I met a lot of my neighbours, that's for sure! Everyone walked past us, sat on the steps, saying 'hola' and such like. One really nice lady even asked whether we had keys and who we were waiting for.
EVENTUALLY, after a thousand years (at least), the landlord shows up. "I hhhhhave a gran problem" he says in his best Spanglish. Ooooh great, think I. He'd lost his keys. So I went with him to one of the other appartments he owns, which had but one girl in (who was completely lovely), and we decided that me and Emily should stay the night there. So we go get Emily and my stuff, go to this appartment, skype the parents, settle down to watch something. And I get a phone call from the landlord, saying that the keys were in my appartment all along but the girl already in it was too scared to answer the door.
So. We go back to my appartment, meet Olga (who is lovely, from Maldova, and speaks literally no Spanish at ALL. Brave brave girl, no wonder she was scared to answer the door!) and settle down (again).
And now I'm pooped. I've lost an hour of my life coming over here! Hmph! Hope I get it back at the end. The other little connundrum is that the pillow on my bed is substantially longer than my pillowcase. Which begs the question, why aren't all pillows as wide as the bed? Makes sense!
Anyway, we're off to the supermarket tomorrow (so out comes the GCSE words. Anything but calemares! (squid to you or I!). What an exciting life we lead!
Buenas noches a todos! xxxxx
The journey went far too smoothly, this much is certain! My first time on an aeroplane was fun fun fun, I even giggled at take off! We all got a taxi (which was easier said than done as the taxi driver didn't appear to speak Spanish or English or Basque, rather just made grunting noises) and got kicked out on Suzy's street (which is one street away from mine! WIN!)
So, I found my appartment with Emily and rang the buzzer. No answer. I call the landlord. He tells me he's at least an hour away from Bilbao. Blooming marvellous. So, we headed to the nearest cafe, had a sandwich which made my very delicate stomach literally turn over (and it was cheese and ham, not like it was squid or anything!). The lucky thing is that the cola here is actually coca-cola, the real mccoy!
The landlord called me to ask me where I was, and that he was coming (or something. His English is bad and my Spanish isn't great). So we went to stand outside the appartment again, rang the buzzer again, eventually we got let into the entrance. I met a lot of my neighbours, that's for sure! Everyone walked past us, sat on the steps, saying 'hola' and such like. One really nice lady even asked whether we had keys and who we were waiting for.
EVENTUALLY, after a thousand years (at least), the landlord shows up. "I hhhhhave a gran problem" he says in his best Spanglish. Ooooh great, think I. He'd lost his keys. So I went with him to one of the other appartments he owns, which had but one girl in (who was completely lovely), and we decided that me and Emily should stay the night there. So we go get Emily and my stuff, go to this appartment, skype the parents, settle down to watch something. And I get a phone call from the landlord, saying that the keys were in my appartment all along but the girl already in it was too scared to answer the door.
So. We go back to my appartment, meet Olga (who is lovely, from Maldova, and speaks literally no Spanish at ALL. Brave brave girl, no wonder she was scared to answer the door!) and settle down (again).
And now I'm pooped. I've lost an hour of my life coming over here! Hmph! Hope I get it back at the end. The other little connundrum is that the pillow on my bed is substantially longer than my pillowcase. Which begs the question, why aren't all pillows as wide as the bed? Makes sense!
Anyway, we're off to the supermarket tomorrow (so out comes the GCSE words. Anything but calemares! (squid to you or I!). What an exciting life we lead!
Buenas noches a todos! xxxxx
Thursday, 1 September 2011
The last post from this side of the pond!
Well I've packed. Spiffing. And the case only weighs 17kg so win there!
It's all just a little wee bit too real now, but I have tea bags in my case so life will be fine (as soon as I've bought a mug to brew up in!) I even have an element for heating water so I don't have to faff about with pans of hot water (thank goodness for the days before health and safety! And my parent's hording!)
Just a short bloggio today, maybe more tomorrow if I can get the internet to work in the piso, or otherwise I'll be in touch in a few days! People with contract phones, don't text me till you've checked your terms and conditions, otherwise both you and I could be charged! If I text you I won't be offended if you don't reply, it's facebook and skype from here on in!
Lots of Lucy love! xxx
It's all just a little wee bit too real now, but I have tea bags in my case so life will be fine (as soon as I've bought a mug to brew up in!) I even have an element for heating water so I don't have to faff about with pans of hot water (thank goodness for the days before health and safety! And my parent's hording!)
Just a short bloggio today, maybe more tomorrow if I can get the internet to work in the piso, or otherwise I'll be in touch in a few days! People with contract phones, don't text me till you've checked your terms and conditions, otherwise both you and I could be charged! If I text you I won't be offended if you don't reply, it's facebook and skype from here on in!
Lots of Lucy love! xxx
Monday, 29 August 2011
20lbs, 20kg, what's the difference? :S
So today I started retrieving the bits I'm wanting to take to Espana on Friday. 20kg doesn't seem like much when you say it, but today has been most illuminating in that department. After giving myself a heart attack when I read the bit of the scales that measures in lbs (and my case weighed about 10lbs!), I soon realised that 20kg is a fair amount. And also that my case weighs 4kg just by itself, which is a slight victory for my case because those extra-light ones you can get are still 3.9kg and I think that's for a smaller one. And my black case with white 'Lucy Spots' (as my amiga Beth likes to call them!) is just more epic. Fact.
So my packing progress has ground to a halt. I've realised I don't have nearly enough underwear and therefore I will have to brave the washing machine fairly pronto after I get there. I really REALLY hope that all those stupid symbols I learnt for GCSE textiles are the same in Spain, otherwise I may flood the piso. All my stuff is currently rammed into my case any old way till I summon up the energy to pack it all properly, and I need to go and buy enough cold and flu relief to stave off fresher's flu when I get there. The last thing I need is a trip to a farmacía two days in.
Till next time, nosey people who want to know what I'm getting up to! (aka, followers) xxx
So my packing progress has ground to a halt. I've realised I don't have nearly enough underwear and therefore I will have to brave the washing machine fairly pronto after I get there. I really REALLY hope that all those stupid symbols I learnt for GCSE textiles are the same in Spain, otherwise I may flood the piso. All my stuff is currently rammed into my case any old way till I summon up the energy to pack it all properly, and I need to go and buy enough cold and flu relief to stave off fresher's flu when I get there. The last thing I need is a trip to a farmacía two days in.
Till next time, nosey people who want to know what I'm getting up to! (aka, followers) xxx
Sunday, 28 August 2011
Articulation Saves Lives (or at least gets me on the right train)
Quick assessment of the situation. I am moving to Bilbao for 21 weeks on Friday. Number of items packed: 0. Number of items thought about: 100,000 (at least). Number of kilos allowed on the plane: 20. Number of unanswered questions about this flaming trip: 500,000 (and counting).
But anyhow, enough about that. Let's pretend it's not happening. Not in the sense of 'I don't want it to happen', more in the sense of 'I'm trying to stay excited so let's not over-analyse and send me into a panic'.
It has to be said, I've not done that much recently. I went to see the grandparents. I feel a little bit like Dr Who (the David Tennant one) when he was about to regenerate and he had a last hurrah to see Martha and various others to fill in the last 10 minutes of the episode and just generally make the point that he (the actor) was going on to pastures new. On the way back from Sheffield I got stuck on a train, which finally arrived into York 45 minutes late, but as I've had more good journeys than bad recently I can't complain. I remember a time when I was younger when sleeping on Doncaster station until there was a train back to York was routine as they were forever being cancelled! I felt sorry for Dave the Train Manager personally. He had to introduce himself several thousand times to keep us updated. There was really no need - we were stuck five minutes the other side of Doncaster with no reception, how much more of an update did we need?
I tell you what's been bugging me recently (other than Starbucks never stirring the syrups into my coffee, so I drink steamed milk until the last inch when I find syrup and coffee). The people that do the train announcements never articulate their vowels, or their consonants come to think of it. Gone are the days when very RP accents echoed around saying 'the train now arriving at platforms 2, 3 and 4 is coming in sideways'. (Sorry, terrible joke. I got it from the old jokes home for a bit of an outing.) I do think that some training should happen in this department, because the words 'this is a platform alteration' followed by incomprehensible, unarticulated nonesense is just no use to me. I wish everyone would move out of the way and let me do it. I could be the Queen with my impression of an RP accent. Next time I'm on the vino tinto (red wine) you'll have to ask me to give a demonstration!
Till next time amigos. Though I'll probably have had a nervous breakdown about the case taking a whole 4.5kg of my precious 20kg without asking *sob*.
But anyhow, enough about that. Let's pretend it's not happening. Not in the sense of 'I don't want it to happen', more in the sense of 'I'm trying to stay excited so let's not over-analyse and send me into a panic'.
It has to be said, I've not done that much recently. I went to see the grandparents. I feel a little bit like Dr Who (the David Tennant one) when he was about to regenerate and he had a last hurrah to see Martha and various others to fill in the last 10 minutes of the episode and just generally make the point that he (the actor) was going on to pastures new. On the way back from Sheffield I got stuck on a train, which finally arrived into York 45 minutes late, but as I've had more good journeys than bad recently I can't complain. I remember a time when I was younger when sleeping on Doncaster station until there was a train back to York was routine as they were forever being cancelled! I felt sorry for Dave the Train Manager personally. He had to introduce himself several thousand times to keep us updated. There was really no need - we were stuck five minutes the other side of Doncaster with no reception, how much more of an update did we need?
I tell you what's been bugging me recently (other than Starbucks never stirring the syrups into my coffee, so I drink steamed milk until the last inch when I find syrup and coffee). The people that do the train announcements never articulate their vowels, or their consonants come to think of it. Gone are the days when very RP accents echoed around saying 'the train now arriving at platforms 2, 3 and 4 is coming in sideways'. (Sorry, terrible joke. I got it from the old jokes home for a bit of an outing.) I do think that some training should happen in this department, because the words 'this is a platform alteration' followed by incomprehensible, unarticulated nonesense is just no use to me. I wish everyone would move out of the way and let me do it. I could be the Queen with my impression of an RP accent. Next time I'm on the vino tinto (red wine) you'll have to ask me to give a demonstration!
Till next time amigos. Though I'll probably have had a nervous breakdown about the case taking a whole 4.5kg of my precious 20kg without asking *sob*.
Saturday, 20 August 2011
I went to fair old London and all I got was this blog post (yeah RIGHT!)
I apologise right now for the extra-long, bumper-edition of this blog, but I went to London on Monday. á la Megabus because they put you on a train halfway there and it doesn't cost very much at all! I was met at the beautiful St Pancras station by the wonderful Raph. Of course, finding him was a bit of an effort due to the ridiculous size of said station, and me having the geography skills of a blindfolded fly when I'm under pressure.
Anyhow, a trip to the Tate Britain followed, in which I saw ten tonne of stuff that would have been useful for Fren233. There was a whole exhibition about the Vorticists, which (as far as I can tell) are roughly equivalent to those drunk guys who wandered round Paris. Only these were the English ones. Anyhow, we found my room, which made me miss Lancaster as I was staying in uni accomodation and they had THAT bed, and THOSE curtains. All you people who have been to uni will know the ones I'm on about! Then, classy people that we are, we had a KFC on a park bench in Camberwell :D
Tuesday I took some classes at Pineapple Studios in Covent Garden, where I'm going to live when I marry a millionaire. I nearly died doing Yoga Ballet Fusion (I'm still wondering which bit was ballet... and my muscles are still asking whether it was really a good idea). They had to leave me on the floor for a bit after. In the evening I went to jazz tap, which was awesome sauce! Obviously I came back with severely aching muscles, an addled brain and an outfit from Pineapple. Then me and Raph saw a cracking band at some pub in Brixton. The saxophonist put me to shame *sob*. And the crazy Spanish people there started dancing, gave up speaking English completely, and forced the band to retreat for fear of spilling their music all over. Culture shock hit (haha).
Wednesday I met Miss Beth on Oxford Street. Shopping ensued, needless to say! At the point where I declared I needed a drink or I might fall down, we were given a flier by a bloke, which gave us a free tea or coffee with every order. So, in true Yorkshire fashion, we went to this cafe, ordered the cheapest thing on the menu, then enjoyed our croissant and coffee. When I'd said bye to Beth, I went for a quick mocha in a Starbucks off Bond Street, and I sat down and who should be sat opposite me than Colin Jackson!!! You know, the famous Welsh runner that came second on Strictly Come Dancing a while back? But I left the poor bloke alone, it must be rubbish being a celebrity sometimes. Later, I ended up wandering stupidly far up Regent Street in search of a Pizza Hut - the craving was soooo bad!
Thursday, me and Raph and Ken hit the sights! We did the V&A and the Science museum, and it rained a lot. Then had some utterly gorgeous food at Raph's (and his mum was kind enough to not put chilli in. Someone told her I was coming!), and then had the rather unpleasant task of saying bye to some of the most amazing people I've ever met :'(
Friday I just plodded round, slowly making my way back to St Pancras, then got on the train and bus home.
Soooo, that was my trip to London! I've picked up some marvellous phrases (such as 'swear down' and 'ra' and 'innit'), and apparently I push through a crowd like a Londoner. It has to be said though, that although London has many many people, York suffers from worse overcrowding due to the general lack of space on the streets. In short, a very good trip and I've written a list of things to do next time I'm there!
And today has been spent with the lovely Emily and her family, who took York by storm.
Well, that's all folks! I tried to keep it as short as possible but you know, exciting times. Catch you all soon! xxx
Anyhow, a trip to the Tate Britain followed, in which I saw ten tonne of stuff that would have been useful for Fren233. There was a whole exhibition about the Vorticists, which (as far as I can tell) are roughly equivalent to those drunk guys who wandered round Paris. Only these were the English ones. Anyhow, we found my room, which made me miss Lancaster as I was staying in uni accomodation and they had THAT bed, and THOSE curtains. All you people who have been to uni will know the ones I'm on about! Then, classy people that we are, we had a KFC on a park bench in Camberwell :D
Tuesday I took some classes at Pineapple Studios in Covent Garden, where I'm going to live when I marry a millionaire. I nearly died doing Yoga Ballet Fusion (I'm still wondering which bit was ballet... and my muscles are still asking whether it was really a good idea). They had to leave me on the floor for a bit after. In the evening I went to jazz tap, which was awesome sauce! Obviously I came back with severely aching muscles, an addled brain and an outfit from Pineapple. Then me and Raph saw a cracking band at some pub in Brixton. The saxophonist put me to shame *sob*. And the crazy Spanish people there started dancing, gave up speaking English completely, and forced the band to retreat for fear of spilling their music all over. Culture shock hit (haha).
Wednesday I met Miss Beth on Oxford Street. Shopping ensued, needless to say! At the point where I declared I needed a drink or I might fall down, we were given a flier by a bloke, which gave us a free tea or coffee with every order. So, in true Yorkshire fashion, we went to this cafe, ordered the cheapest thing on the menu, then enjoyed our croissant and coffee. When I'd said bye to Beth, I went for a quick mocha in a Starbucks off Bond Street, and I sat down and who should be sat opposite me than Colin Jackson!!! You know, the famous Welsh runner that came second on Strictly Come Dancing a while back? But I left the poor bloke alone, it must be rubbish being a celebrity sometimes. Later, I ended up wandering stupidly far up Regent Street in search of a Pizza Hut - the craving was soooo bad!
Thursday, me and Raph and Ken hit the sights! We did the V&A and the Science museum, and it rained a lot. Then had some utterly gorgeous food at Raph's (and his mum was kind enough to not put chilli in. Someone told her I was coming!), and then had the rather unpleasant task of saying bye to some of the most amazing people I've ever met :'(
Friday I just plodded round, slowly making my way back to St Pancras, then got on the train and bus home.
Soooo, that was my trip to London! I've picked up some marvellous phrases (such as 'swear down' and 'ra' and 'innit'), and apparently I push through a crowd like a Londoner. It has to be said though, that although London has many many people, York suffers from worse overcrowding due to the general lack of space on the streets. In short, a very good trip and I've written a list of things to do next time I'm there!
And today has been spent with the lovely Emily and her family, who took York by storm.
Well, that's all folks! I tried to keep it as short as possible but you know, exciting times. Catch you all soon! xxx
Monday, 1 August 2011
On the way to interprete! (pronounced interpretay in Spanish...)
So, when I published the last post yesterday, it was actually a little bit behind the times because I wrote it last week and saved it and forgot to publish it. So I'm doing another one now because more stuff has happened :)
I emailed my Spanish landlord (in Spanish, I might add), and got a reply in English. The hilarious thing is that I asked whether Emily could stay in the piso with me for the first 3 nights, and the landlord (as yet I'm not sure whether it's a lady or a gentleman, so I can hardly say 'he' or 'she') said that she could stay, for the first two nights she can have the spare room and for the third that 'she would be behaving in bed with you [me]'!!!! Our reputation has reached Spain it seems!
Also on the Spanish front, I did a bit of freelance interpreting (that sounds like I was getting paid. I wish!) when I just popped into York's tourist info (now named 'visitor centre' which basically gives it license to stock nothing useful for local residents). There was a Spanish lady asking for a map at the desk and the bloke was stood there looking gormless while she said 'mapa... map?' and waved her hands to mime driving. I do think that a foreign language should be a requirement if you're going to work in a tourist info, or at the very least, previous knowledge of charades. Anyway, I barrelled on over and told the Gormless One that she wanted a road map. The woman explained to me that she wanted to visit Malton and their hotel was actually in Bradford, so she needed one to cover that area. I relayed this to GO and he said there wouldn't be any free ones, but they'd be in the other room on the right if there were any at all. As it happens, we went through and there wasn't one at all. So the poor Spanish couple had to leave empty handed with nothing more than my sketchy directions to put them in the direction of WH Smiths. I tell you, I wonder what they think of England. More to the point, I wish I'd had the forethought to ask.
I also wonder how the heck they even made it to Yorkshire without having a word of English, as we're not like people on the continent are we? We get more broad with our accent just to annoy people and further hinder understanding if they're foreign (that includes pretty much anyone outside of God's own county, you can be English and still be foreign round here!) I also was dying to turn around to GO and say 'that'll be £50 please'. Interpreting is a good business.
Anyhow, after all that my nerves were a little shaky so I went home and had a brew, which is exactly what I'm doing now. Shocking news too - I made the first cake since Lancaster yesterday. I hadn't made a cake for three weeks. This prompted Raph to ask me if I was ill. For a moment, I wasn't sure how to reply!
Right, I shall quit my ramblings and prey that you, dear readers, haven't gone grey while getting to the end of this blog post. Muchas gracias para todo!
Lucy-Cakes (I wonder if I should start putting the 'cakes' in brackets... :S )
I emailed my Spanish landlord (in Spanish, I might add), and got a reply in English. The hilarious thing is that I asked whether Emily could stay in the piso with me for the first 3 nights, and the landlord (as yet I'm not sure whether it's a lady or a gentleman, so I can hardly say 'he' or 'she') said that she could stay, for the first two nights she can have the spare room and for the third that 'she would be behaving in bed with you [me]'!!!! Our reputation has reached Spain it seems!
Also on the Spanish front, I did a bit of freelance interpreting (that sounds like I was getting paid. I wish!) when I just popped into York's tourist info (now named 'visitor centre' which basically gives it license to stock nothing useful for local residents). There was a Spanish lady asking for a map at the desk and the bloke was stood there looking gormless while she said 'mapa... map?' and waved her hands to mime driving. I do think that a foreign language should be a requirement if you're going to work in a tourist info, or at the very least, previous knowledge of charades. Anyway, I barrelled on over and told the Gormless One that she wanted a road map. The woman explained to me that she wanted to visit Malton and their hotel was actually in Bradford, so she needed one to cover that area. I relayed this to GO and he said there wouldn't be any free ones, but they'd be in the other room on the right if there were any at all. As it happens, we went through and there wasn't one at all. So the poor Spanish couple had to leave empty handed with nothing more than my sketchy directions to put them in the direction of WH Smiths. I tell you, I wonder what they think of England. More to the point, I wish I'd had the forethought to ask.
I also wonder how the heck they even made it to Yorkshire without having a word of English, as we're not like people on the continent are we? We get more broad with our accent just to annoy people and further hinder understanding if they're foreign (that includes pretty much anyone outside of God's own county, you can be English and still be foreign round here!) I also was dying to turn around to GO and say 'that'll be £50 please'. Interpreting is a good business.
Anyhow, after all that my nerves were a little shaky so I went home and had a brew, which is exactly what I'm doing now. Shocking news too - I made the first cake since Lancaster yesterday. I hadn't made a cake for three weeks. This prompted Raph to ask me if I was ill. For a moment, I wasn't sure how to reply!
Right, I shall quit my ramblings and prey that you, dear readers, haven't gone grey while getting to the end of this blog post. Muchas gracias para todo!
Lucy-Cakes (I wonder if I should start putting the 'cakes' in brackets... :S )
Sunday, 31 July 2011
Working 9 to 5 so I can pay for scaffolding!
It occurred to me that I have not Blogged for a fair while. I am sorry, dear followers! Life has been a mish-mash of working, filling in forms and trying in vain to fit all my uni books under my bed.
I have learned how to make a sandwich fit for commercial consumption by the masses. Or at least, as it seems to be so far, those daft enough to venture outside in the hideous rainy weather for a butty, or the hideously hot weather, depending on which day you pick! But I love working hard so I'm enjoying it very much. I've also been at the chippie a bit which is always a delight as I seem to know every third customer at least. Like a home-from-home, it's good to be back.
I spent one evening this week printing off a billion forms, which prompted my father to ask whether my intention was to make the printer run out of ink or paper first. Luckily, it was my own paper that I'd brought home from uni so I feel slightly less guilty. It seems that a good proportion of my 20kg weight limit is going to go on paperwork. Never mind the essentials, I'm not leaving fair England without a device for making my mornings a heck of a lot easier (aka, a kettle) and some underwear. I can't bear the thought of buying lingerie in Europe - they'll take one look at my very British frame and send me on my way, back to the likes of Marks and Spencers. If I'm lucky they may give me the number of a local scaffolding company to tide me over.
Till next time x
I have learned how to make a sandwich fit for commercial consumption by the masses. Or at least, as it seems to be so far, those daft enough to venture outside in the hideous rainy weather for a butty, or the hideously hot weather, depending on which day you pick! But I love working hard so I'm enjoying it very much. I've also been at the chippie a bit which is always a delight as I seem to know every third customer at least. Like a home-from-home, it's good to be back.
I spent one evening this week printing off a billion forms, which prompted my father to ask whether my intention was to make the printer run out of ink or paper first. Luckily, it was my own paper that I'd brought home from uni so I feel slightly less guilty. It seems that a good proportion of my 20kg weight limit is going to go on paperwork. Never mind the essentials, I'm not leaving fair England without a device for making my mornings a heck of a lot easier (aka, a kettle) and some underwear. I can't bear the thought of buying lingerie in Europe - they'll take one look at my very British frame and send me on my way, back to the likes of Marks and Spencers. If I'm lucky they may give me the number of a local scaffolding company to tide me over.
Till next time x
Monday, 11 July 2011
If Rhod Gilbert can do it...
I did want to Blog about three days ago but I kept being told the site was 'under maintainance' so apologies there!
Well I'm home home (as opposed to home... Lancaster is 'home', York is 'home home'. This will become even more confuzzling as I make Espana and Switzerland my home... hmmmmm!). I've done very well so far, I've shifted most of my uni stuff into my room, not to be touched for an entire year! I am NOT sorry to say 'adios' to Pio Baroja. I've also said hello to Heather and Sarah, and a few other people too. In fact, I've barely stopped since arriving back. I get itchy feet in York for some reason.
Emily and I booked our tickets to Bilbao on Friday (!) and it's all rather exciting and scary and exciting! I feel better now I'm home home as, although I miss uni people, it's not quite as acute as it was getting in Lancaster. It's not like Lancaster people are supposed to be here with me so it makes it better somehow.
Anyhow, I'm trying to do the whole writing a novel in a month again, and so far failing epically, thanks to falling asleep rather early. Bah, I'm getting old! Gone are the days of staying up till 3am!
So not much news on the Year Abroad front, but I shall keep you posted on the nerves/excitement as they occur! (Well, probably a little after they occur, otherwise I'll be blogging even more than people who are full-time bloggers!) The only thing I can tell you is that Rhod Gilbert (the awesome comedian who moans about duvets, torches and women) actually studied French and Spanish at Exeter. Get that! So, I've decided, that if Rhod Gilbert can do it, and the year abroad, so can I! I WILL BE A COMEDIENNE!!! Hehe, till next time loves :) x
Well I'm home home (as opposed to home... Lancaster is 'home', York is 'home home'. This will become even more confuzzling as I make Espana and Switzerland my home... hmmmmm!). I've done very well so far, I've shifted most of my uni stuff into my room, not to be touched for an entire year! I am NOT sorry to say 'adios' to Pio Baroja. I've also said hello to Heather and Sarah, and a few other people too. In fact, I've barely stopped since arriving back. I get itchy feet in York for some reason.
Emily and I booked our tickets to Bilbao on Friday (!) and it's all rather exciting and scary and exciting! I feel better now I'm home home as, although I miss uni people, it's not quite as acute as it was getting in Lancaster. It's not like Lancaster people are supposed to be here with me so it makes it better somehow.
Anyhow, I'm trying to do the whole writing a novel in a month again, and so far failing epically, thanks to falling asleep rather early. Bah, I'm getting old! Gone are the days of staying up till 3am!
So not much news on the Year Abroad front, but I shall keep you posted on the nerves/excitement as they occur! (Well, probably a little after they occur, otherwise I'll be blogging even more than people who are full-time bloggers!) The only thing I can tell you is that Rhod Gilbert (the awesome comedian who moans about duvets, torches and women) actually studied French and Spanish at Exeter. Get that! So, I've decided, that if Rhod Gilbert can do it, and the year abroad, so can I! I WILL BE A COMEDIENNE!!! Hehe, till next time loves :) x
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