Now then, now then. Don't get excited people, but this is a blog post! I know, they're becoming a rarity in these parts!
Today I've been shifting stuff round in boxes, intermittently cursing the darn bits and bobs that won't tessellate (like mixing bowls), and singing along to rather too much Boney M. Nothing quite like it really. It was much less effort to pack 20kg! The rest of the packing is going to have to wait until I can pack clothes too, as they fit in all the nooks and crannies. I am slightly worried there won't be enough room in the car, but me and Sarah are going to try to have a trial-run of packing the boot before Sunday! Whether my food processor will make it to Lancaster is uncertain, but the important things for this year are my crock-pot and my range of travel mugs and flasks.
Tomorrow's my last hooping class (if you've not seen my crazy exploits, here's the link to the photo evidence! https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.4555524335306.2183292.1507386366&type=3&l=eb7d62e370 ) and on Friday I'll have my last shift at the tourist info. Of course with all the floods there are lots of wet tourists wishing they'd never bothered coming, but that's the way it is here. There was a couple who were quite disappointed they wouldn't be able to go into the King's Arms though (that's the pub that ALWAYS floods, and which is on the telly at least three times a year because of said flooding).
So, next blog post I'll be back in Lancaster. Come a full circle now since I started my blog! Who'd have thought, eh?
Wednesday, 26 September 2012
Thursday, 23 August 2012
Avoiding thinking
*Generic lack-of-blog apology*
So you may be asking what on earth I've been up to recently, as I've not blogged for well over a month. However I think it's more likely that no one's noticed due to the marvellous diversion of the Olympics (hurrah for Team Yorkshire by the way! Especially Jess Ennis - whoever said she was fat had better be eating his words rather hurriedly. If I were her I'd send him a gold chocolate medal, hahahaha).
In the past few months I've finished my clear-out (resulting in a disturbingly mess-free room), visited my grandparents as I've not seen them since January, and started a new job volunteering at the tourist info in York. It's good experience, as I speak a lot of French and Spanish to the visitors, but it is exhausting! And some of the questions I get asked are, frankly, things that no one knows, but I'm learning things all the time. We also had a nice visit from my sister and family, which resulted in rather too many early mornings thanks to my nephew, but it was jolly good fun. Mum and I had to make him a space rocket out of a kitchen roll tube and some tin foil :D I also visited the wonderful Emily and family for a few days, and had a weekend in Lancaster for a friend's wedding.
Since getting back from my YA, I've been thinking. Or at least, that's what you're expecting me to say. In actual fact, I've spent a lot of time NOT thinking. I have a feeling that if I actually stop and think about everything - the good times and the bad - it could be rather overwhelming. I'm trying not to fall into the massive cohort of YA students that off-handedly declare that the whole year was utterly marvellous and they never had any problems ever. Instead I tell people that it was a positive experience, but there were hard times too, which I think is fair enough. There's always a place for honesty.
I've been looking through my photos and selecting some to go have printed so I can start making my scrapbook. There's going to be rather a lot to do, but it's been an interesting trip down memory lane. I look at my ones of Bilbao and I'm certain it was a dream up until about Christmas. It's like there's a veil between me and the experience, and I daren't move it just yet. Maybe soon. Maybe never.
It reminds me of when I was sent off on a school trip for a week when I was 10. This experience still remains one of the most traumatic of my life (freezing cold, first time away from Mum and Dad and before the age of mobile phones, horrendous physical activities led by over-enthusiastic plonkers, knee-deep in a river somewhere near Whitby not having a clue about the activity we were doing, diabolical food), but what I remember vividly is getting home again, curling up on Dad's knee and crying. Was it relief? I don't think so, more a 'I never want to go through that ever ever again!!!' The up side to this story is that leaving home has never been such a horrible wrench since, because I've done it before. Of course every time I leave, it is hard (and it has been most especially this year), but there's always the knowledge that I've done it before and can do it again. I've never cried on returning quite like that since.
A similar thing can be said for the YA. There is a huge part of me that never wants those first couple of months to ever happen to me again, but the beauty of the experience is that I know it won't. I'm older, I've been through it once before, I don't need to go through it again. Like I say, it doesn't mean that there won't be hard times, and the worst is probably still to come, but at least I'll be able to draw some level of strength from knowing I've done it already.
Anyhow, enough of the serious stuff. Right now I'm in touch with a few people who are heading to Bilbao to start their YA's - one has already posted on Facebook that she's got there but was locked out as her landlady wasn't there yet. Can't help thinking how similar it is to my own experience - I'm glad my presence hasn't irreparably damaged or altered Spain!
Laters Blogueros :) xx
So you may be asking what on earth I've been up to recently, as I've not blogged for well over a month. However I think it's more likely that no one's noticed due to the marvellous diversion of the Olympics (hurrah for Team Yorkshire by the way! Especially Jess Ennis - whoever said she was fat had better be eating his words rather hurriedly. If I were her I'd send him a gold chocolate medal, hahahaha).
In the past few months I've finished my clear-out (resulting in a disturbingly mess-free room), visited my grandparents as I've not seen them since January, and started a new job volunteering at the tourist info in York. It's good experience, as I speak a lot of French and Spanish to the visitors, but it is exhausting! And some of the questions I get asked are, frankly, things that no one knows, but I'm learning things all the time. We also had a nice visit from my sister and family, which resulted in rather too many early mornings thanks to my nephew, but it was jolly good fun. Mum and I had to make him a space rocket out of a kitchen roll tube and some tin foil :D I also visited the wonderful Emily and family for a few days, and had a weekend in Lancaster for a friend's wedding.
Since getting back from my YA, I've been thinking. Or at least, that's what you're expecting me to say. In actual fact, I've spent a lot of time NOT thinking. I have a feeling that if I actually stop and think about everything - the good times and the bad - it could be rather overwhelming. I'm trying not to fall into the massive cohort of YA students that off-handedly declare that the whole year was utterly marvellous and they never had any problems ever. Instead I tell people that it was a positive experience, but there were hard times too, which I think is fair enough. There's always a place for honesty.
I've been looking through my photos and selecting some to go have printed so I can start making my scrapbook. There's going to be rather a lot to do, but it's been an interesting trip down memory lane. I look at my ones of Bilbao and I'm certain it was a dream up until about Christmas. It's like there's a veil between me and the experience, and I daren't move it just yet. Maybe soon. Maybe never.
It reminds me of when I was sent off on a school trip for a week when I was 10. This experience still remains one of the most traumatic of my life (freezing cold, first time away from Mum and Dad and before the age of mobile phones, horrendous physical activities led by over-enthusiastic plonkers, knee-deep in a river somewhere near Whitby not having a clue about the activity we were doing, diabolical food), but what I remember vividly is getting home again, curling up on Dad's knee and crying. Was it relief? I don't think so, more a 'I never want to go through that ever ever again!!!' The up side to this story is that leaving home has never been such a horrible wrench since, because I've done it before. Of course every time I leave, it is hard (and it has been most especially this year), but there's always the knowledge that I've done it before and can do it again. I've never cried on returning quite like that since.
A similar thing can be said for the YA. There is a huge part of me that never wants those first couple of months to ever happen to me again, but the beauty of the experience is that I know it won't. I'm older, I've been through it once before, I don't need to go through it again. Like I say, it doesn't mean that there won't be hard times, and the worst is probably still to come, but at least I'll be able to draw some level of strength from knowing I've done it already.
Anyhow, enough of the serious stuff. Right now I'm in touch with a few people who are heading to Bilbao to start their YA's - one has already posted on Facebook that she's got there but was locked out as her landlady wasn't there yet. Can't help thinking how similar it is to my own experience - I'm glad my presence hasn't irreparably damaged or altered Spain!
Laters Blogueros :) xx
Saturday, 14 July 2012
The Post-YA Crisis
So, I am back! Did you miss me?
Sorry for the lack of blogging. I've been doing too much thinking to blog as well. I went on my little tour of the UK, stopping at my sister's on the outskirts of London and then again in Lancaster. It was as good a way as any to finish the dreaded YA, though how you're supposed to 'finish' it is anybody's guess.
I'm now in the throws of what is definitely a post-YA crisis. I am clearing out my room. Having more than 20kg of stuff feels odd, and anyhow, the clear-out is long over-due. It's much easier to get rid of stuff now thinking 'well I've not used it all year...' A general lack of work makes the days rather long, and I've forgotten how to do things properly in this country. How does one get on a bus again? Should you say 'hello' before jumping in with 'a single to town please'? Je ne sais pas. And frenglish and spanglish are just the norm.
But having said that, it is good to be home. Aside from the rain.
Sorry for the lack of blogging. I've been doing too much thinking to blog as well. I went on my little tour of the UK, stopping at my sister's on the outskirts of London and then again in Lancaster. It was as good a way as any to finish the dreaded YA, though how you're supposed to 'finish' it is anybody's guess.
I'm now in the throws of what is definitely a post-YA crisis. I am clearing out my room. Having more than 20kg of stuff feels odd, and anyhow, the clear-out is long over-due. It's much easier to get rid of stuff now thinking 'well I've not used it all year...' A general lack of work makes the days rather long, and I've forgotten how to do things properly in this country. How does one get on a bus again? Should you say 'hello' before jumping in with 'a single to town please'? Je ne sais pas. And frenglish and spanglish are just the norm.
But having said that, it is good to be home. Aside from the rain.
Tuesday, 19 June 2012
Two more sleeps...
How on earth did this happen? The day after tomorrow I'll be back in the Motherland, eating enough cheddar to give me nightmares for a month. (I suppose you all know by now that I mention cheddar in nearly every blog post purely because it is now a standing joke. I'm not actually that obsessed! Especially as the cheese in Switzerland is famous for a reason!)
I'm very sad to be leaving - I know this because of the manic job-hunting in Geneva that I've been doing over the past few days! Always good to keep your options open, and somehow I have a feeling I'll be back here one day, under my own steam. But, the tea supplies are running low and the price of a titchy box of PG Tips has reached a high of 8 euros in Carrefour, so a return home is inevitable, and it is very welcome. I've printed all my tickets, cleaned all of the flat except the bathroom (tomorrow's job!), and now I just need to get packing.
It was about a year ago that Emily and I were booking our tickets out to Bilbao and I was having a panic every time I thought about it. A lot's changed since then. I now understand the appeal of tapas, for example (it was lost on me before!) and I'm about to start owning a raclette machine so I can have Swiss-themed soirées next year. My hard drive is clogged up with photos and I feel like the whole world has opened up to me. I know this sounds a bit melodramatic, but from someone who'd never been on a plane before, I now realise it's not hard to travel and I have enough confidence to do it by myself, which I certainly didn't have before. It may be the end of the Year Abroad, but it's only the first year of the rest of my life with its newly-expanded horizons.
If I did this, I feel like I can do anything. So, to quote a very cool sci-fi series (Star Trek Next Gen, duh!): Ace is high. Nothing wild... and the sky's the limit.
See you on the other side.
Lucy xxx
I'm very sad to be leaving - I know this because of the manic job-hunting in Geneva that I've been doing over the past few days! Always good to keep your options open, and somehow I have a feeling I'll be back here one day, under my own steam. But, the tea supplies are running low and the price of a titchy box of PG Tips has reached a high of 8 euros in Carrefour, so a return home is inevitable, and it is very welcome. I've printed all my tickets, cleaned all of the flat except the bathroom (tomorrow's job!), and now I just need to get packing.
It was about a year ago that Emily and I were booking our tickets out to Bilbao and I was having a panic every time I thought about it. A lot's changed since then. I now understand the appeal of tapas, for example (it was lost on me before!) and I'm about to start owning a raclette machine so I can have Swiss-themed soirées next year. My hard drive is clogged up with photos and I feel like the whole world has opened up to me. I know this sounds a bit melodramatic, but from someone who'd never been on a plane before, I now realise it's not hard to travel and I have enough confidence to do it by myself, which I certainly didn't have before. It may be the end of the Year Abroad, but it's only the first year of the rest of my life with its newly-expanded horizons.
If I did this, I feel like I can do anything. So, to quote a very cool sci-fi series (Star Trek Next Gen, duh!): Ace is high. Nothing wild... and the sky's the limit.
See you on the other side.
Lucy xxx
Monday, 11 June 2012
Welcome to hotel Lucy.
Once again my dear Blogeurs I am writing this from Geneva airport, as I've just sent Mummy Fisher home to go buy all the cheddar cheese in Tesco, and I'm waiting for Claire to land.
Mum and I did Geneva as best we could in the 6 days we had. The highlight was probably a fantastic day out with my landlady and her Dad (who had me literally crying with laughter at one point... my mascara is all over a very posh restaurant's napkin). We went to Nyon and took the boat over Lac Léman to Yvoire, where I bought the odd souvenir and we had an amazing lunch of fish and chips (though it was a far cry from the British counterpart... not a bit of batter in sight!) We had a good wander round, then we took the boat back. We also visited a chapel on top of a hill with a fab view over Geneva.
Me and Mum also did the reformation museum which was as dry as a bone. The audio guide needs a shimmy shake, the woman spoke with such an American drawl it was ridiculous, and she talked so slowly! She pronounced 'bishop' as 'bis-hope' which was rather annoying. I felt like volunteering to re-record the darn thing for them, but a 15 minute debate on predestination put me off. No need to be too enthusiastic now.
I have now tried a Raclette, which is where you have slices of cheese and melt them on a machine, then nom them down with potatoes and cold meats and pickles. My landlady did one for us and it was rather superb - I now want a machine so that I can have rather pretentious soirées next year! Hello Amazon...
And finally, it is exam season. The history module wasn't as bad as it might have been. Today I had the interpreting oral (the one I wrote the mahoosive project for) and I got some pretty good feedback from my project. They actually told me to go write a PhD, and I felt I shouldn't let them down by saying that 30 pages was more than enough for me! Still, being rather pleased and smug for the rest of the day.
I only have 10 days left and I have honestly googled jobs out here! I think returning PDQ would be rather good if it were under my own steam, when I could make it my life rather than just 4 months here and 4 months there. But we shall see, the future's a massive great thing that's ready for the planting, nurturing and growing. Allons-y!
Mum and I did Geneva as best we could in the 6 days we had. The highlight was probably a fantastic day out with my landlady and her Dad (who had me literally crying with laughter at one point... my mascara is all over a very posh restaurant's napkin). We went to Nyon and took the boat over Lac Léman to Yvoire, where I bought the odd souvenir and we had an amazing lunch of fish and chips (though it was a far cry from the British counterpart... not a bit of batter in sight!) We had a good wander round, then we took the boat back. We also visited a chapel on top of a hill with a fab view over Geneva.
Me and Mum also did the reformation museum which was as dry as a bone. The audio guide needs a shimmy shake, the woman spoke with such an American drawl it was ridiculous, and she talked so slowly! She pronounced 'bishop' as 'bis-hope' which was rather annoying. I felt like volunteering to re-record the darn thing for them, but a 15 minute debate on predestination put me off. No need to be too enthusiastic now.
I have now tried a Raclette, which is where you have slices of cheese and melt them on a machine, then nom them down with potatoes and cold meats and pickles. My landlady did one for us and it was rather superb - I now want a machine so that I can have rather pretentious soirées next year! Hello Amazon...
And finally, it is exam season. The history module wasn't as bad as it might have been. Today I had the interpreting oral (the one I wrote the mahoosive project for) and I got some pretty good feedback from my project. They actually told me to go write a PhD, and I felt I shouldn't let them down by saying that 30 pages was more than enough for me! Still, being rather pleased and smug for the rest of the day.
I only have 10 days left and I have honestly googled jobs out here! I think returning PDQ would be rather good if it were under my own steam, when I could make it my life rather than just 4 months here and 4 months there. But we shall see, the future's a massive great thing that's ready for the planting, nurturing and growing. Allons-y!
Thursday, 24 May 2012
A weekend of stereotyping!
Well I did promise I would blog about my trip to Granada, so here I am blogging!
So I slept on the flight out there (despite some French woman seriously taking the mickey behind me and laughing every time I came round then fell asleep again), then had a very strong coffee in Malaga airport, then got on the bus to Granada and slept again! As such, when I got there I didn't feel too rough, which I personally consider a miracle. Bex was there to meet me, and we went for some cheeky tapas with Jack as you get a free tapas with every drink in Granada (and the Spanish wonder why their economy is so far down the drain...) We had a good old wander round Granada in the afternoon and saw a lot of people dressed in traditional flamenco outfits, but we couldn't find out if there was a fiesta happening.
On Sunday I went up to the Alhambra with Flat Ted, and it was absolutely stunning! I've finally fulfilled one of my ambitions, I've always wanted to go there. I spent ages there wandering round among the thousands of tourists, filled a memory card with pictures and ran my batteries down (good job I always have spares of everything!) Then I met up with Bex again and more tapas happened, then we sat in and watched the new TinTin film as neither of us had seen it, which is just ridiculous given Bex has lived in Belgium (no, TinTin is NOT French!) and many a French A-level oral class was spent pouring over comic strips with Guillaume!
Monday was spent walking down from the Alhambra to take pictures of the pretty views, and then we hit the shops. I've had a disaster with most of my shoes, my trainers literally had holes in the bottom of them! So I got new trainers and a pair of sandals while I was in a country where I could afford to buy them, as well as some other souvenirs. Bex was very patient with me while we scouted all of Granada's shoe shops (of which there were quite a few!) and we had more tapas after to regain our strength!
Then we walked up to a couple of the view points over the city and we watched the sun set while having a good old chin wag about life, the universe and everything. It really is always fantastic to see other Lancaster people, as I think I said after my trip to see Lorraine and Caz in Lyon (or maybe I forgot to blog about that? That happened last week anyway, a quick day trip to Lyon for a nosy at where I could have gone) Seeing other people going through the same thing always helps, and in a strange sort of way it is like group therapy! This is why as much as people say 'don't hang around with English people', sometimes you just have to for your own sanity.
Anyway, here's a shocking fact: 4 weeks today I'll be back in the Motherland. Anyone know how that happened? It feels like I've been a Fisher out of England since forever, but equally I can remember having to set off on the 2nd September like it was yesterday (and I still feel a little traumatized when I remember my dear landlord not having the keys to the apartment...) But, somehow we survive.
Very few things have rattled me recently, but one thing has. Someone from England asked me how I was, and I said 'fine thanks, just looking forward to going home'. To which they responded 'yes but you've been looking forward to that all year'. One the one foot, they weren't wrong. I have been looking forward to the end since I arrived. But, isn't that what we do in life? When we're at uni everyone's looking towards graduation or moving on to the next qualification, at work everyone's looking towards the next weekend, the next holiday. Revelling in the moment is actually a very hard thing to do, and something we don't do very often when you come to think about it. I look forward to the end because it brings me one step closer to being back around people I know and love, which leads me closer to graduation, which means being in charge of the rest of my life. If I end up back in Geneva, then great! It's not that I've not enjoyed myself here, it's just that four months is nothing - limbo. You don't know whether to bother settling in properly or not, because it's not a long time, and everyone here pretty much made their friends at the start of the year so it's hard to break into. I'm looking forward to me being in charge of my life. Is that such a bad thing?
I'll say it again, it's very easy to judge when you're not here. So watch what you say or you might find yourself immortalised in my blog!
So I slept on the flight out there (despite some French woman seriously taking the mickey behind me and laughing every time I came round then fell asleep again), then had a very strong coffee in Malaga airport, then got on the bus to Granada and slept again! As such, when I got there I didn't feel too rough, which I personally consider a miracle. Bex was there to meet me, and we went for some cheeky tapas with Jack as you get a free tapas with every drink in Granada (and the Spanish wonder why their economy is so far down the drain...) We had a good old wander round Granada in the afternoon and saw a lot of people dressed in traditional flamenco outfits, but we couldn't find out if there was a fiesta happening.
On Sunday I went up to the Alhambra with Flat Ted, and it was absolutely stunning! I've finally fulfilled one of my ambitions, I've always wanted to go there. I spent ages there wandering round among the thousands of tourists, filled a memory card with pictures and ran my batteries down (good job I always have spares of everything!) Then I met up with Bex again and more tapas happened, then we sat in and watched the new TinTin film as neither of us had seen it, which is just ridiculous given Bex has lived in Belgium (no, TinTin is NOT French!) and many a French A-level oral class was spent pouring over comic strips with Guillaume!
Monday was spent walking down from the Alhambra to take pictures of the pretty views, and then we hit the shops. I've had a disaster with most of my shoes, my trainers literally had holes in the bottom of them! So I got new trainers and a pair of sandals while I was in a country where I could afford to buy them, as well as some other souvenirs. Bex was very patient with me while we scouted all of Granada's shoe shops (of which there were quite a few!) and we had more tapas after to regain our strength!
Then we walked up to a couple of the view points over the city and we watched the sun set while having a good old chin wag about life, the universe and everything. It really is always fantastic to see other Lancaster people, as I think I said after my trip to see Lorraine and Caz in Lyon (or maybe I forgot to blog about that? That happened last week anyway, a quick day trip to Lyon for a nosy at where I could have gone) Seeing other people going through the same thing always helps, and in a strange sort of way it is like group therapy! This is why as much as people say 'don't hang around with English people', sometimes you just have to for your own sanity.
Anyway, here's a shocking fact: 4 weeks today I'll be back in the Motherland. Anyone know how that happened? It feels like I've been a Fisher out of England since forever, but equally I can remember having to set off on the 2nd September like it was yesterday (and I still feel a little traumatized when I remember my dear landlord not having the keys to the apartment...) But, somehow we survive.
Very few things have rattled me recently, but one thing has. Someone from England asked me how I was, and I said 'fine thanks, just looking forward to going home'. To which they responded 'yes but you've been looking forward to that all year'. One the one foot, they weren't wrong. I have been looking forward to the end since I arrived. But, isn't that what we do in life? When we're at uni everyone's looking towards graduation or moving on to the next qualification, at work everyone's looking towards the next weekend, the next holiday. Revelling in the moment is actually a very hard thing to do, and something we don't do very often when you come to think about it. I look forward to the end because it brings me one step closer to being back around people I know and love, which leads me closer to graduation, which means being in charge of the rest of my life. If I end up back in Geneva, then great! It's not that I've not enjoyed myself here, it's just that four months is nothing - limbo. You don't know whether to bother settling in properly or not, because it's not a long time, and everyone here pretty much made their friends at the start of the year so it's hard to break into. I'm looking forward to me being in charge of my life. Is that such a bad thing?
I'll say it again, it's very easy to judge when you're not here. So watch what you say or you might find yourself immortalised in my blog!
Friday, 18 May 2012
A night in the airport...
Ay ay ay! (As the Spanish would say)
Sorry once again for the long gap between blog posts, I am a bad blogger! The main reason for this lack of anything was pretty well down to a certain project that has been hovering round like the smell of garlic: fine when you're cooking but by the next morning it makes you want to retch, slap your last night self and demand to know why you didn't clean the garlic crusher the night before. Anyway. The project is done and dusted, and I even got it bound (was dirt cheap at the uni print shop - about the only thing there that is). So it is officially out of my life until I have to do an oral presentation on it in the exam period *sigh*. By then my enthusiasm might have come back.
Currently, (at 00.29 BST+1) I am sat in Geneva airport. Why, you may ask. Why indeed. This weekend I'm off to Granada to see Bex and Jack et al, and all the flights to Malaga (which is where you have to fly to, then get a bus to Granada) leave at 6.10am. Fine, you may think. However, none of the flaming buses get to the airport before 6am (and of course, my gate closes at 5.40), so I had to get one of the last buses Friday has to offer, and it's a night in the airport job. Technically, the airport is closed from midnight till 4am, but so far no one's come to tell us to get out (and they'll have a job on shifting the bloke in the corner who is asleep). Luckily, staying up till 4am wasn't a problem last night, so it shouldn't be tonight either. I might be sad and start a queue for going through security from 4am, as coffee and croissants undoubtedly lie on the other side...
So, not much else to report, other than it's only 4 weeks and 5 days till I come back to the Motherland for good... no more year abroad. The big Year Abroad Monster that I panicked about pretty much from A-levels to now will have passed and I'll still be alive at the end of it! Now no one saw that one coming ;)
Will blog after I get back to Geneva on Tuesday, I should have something more exciting to say then! Bonne nuit tout le monde! xxx
Sorry once again for the long gap between blog posts, I am a bad blogger! The main reason for this lack of anything was pretty well down to a certain project that has been hovering round like the smell of garlic: fine when you're cooking but by the next morning it makes you want to retch, slap your last night self and demand to know why you didn't clean the garlic crusher the night before. Anyway. The project is done and dusted, and I even got it bound (was dirt cheap at the uni print shop - about the only thing there that is). So it is officially out of my life until I have to do an oral presentation on it in the exam period *sigh*. By then my enthusiasm might have come back.
Currently, (at 00.29 BST+1) I am sat in Geneva airport. Why, you may ask. Why indeed. This weekend I'm off to Granada to see Bex and Jack et al, and all the flights to Malaga (which is where you have to fly to, then get a bus to Granada) leave at 6.10am. Fine, you may think. However, none of the flaming buses get to the airport before 6am (and of course, my gate closes at 5.40), so I had to get one of the last buses Friday has to offer, and it's a night in the airport job. Technically, the airport is closed from midnight till 4am, but so far no one's come to tell us to get out (and they'll have a job on shifting the bloke in the corner who is asleep). Luckily, staying up till 4am wasn't a problem last night, so it shouldn't be tonight either. I might be sad and start a queue for going through security from 4am, as coffee and croissants undoubtedly lie on the other side...
So, not much else to report, other than it's only 4 weeks and 5 days till I come back to the Motherland for good... no more year abroad. The big Year Abroad Monster that I panicked about pretty much from A-levels to now will have passed and I'll still be alive at the end of it! Now no one saw that one coming ;)
Will blog after I get back to Geneva on Tuesday, I should have something more exciting to say then! Bonne nuit tout le monde! xxx
Sunday, 29 April 2012
A very busy few weeks.
I know, I fell off the radar a little before Easter. I spent a lot of time feeling sorry for myself and moaning about having a cold, which carried on when I got home. I did absolutely nothing while I was there, but I did see all the family, including my gorgeous niece and nephew.
Dad came back to Geneva with me and we spent a very happy and slightly damp two weeks being shameless tourists. He said right near the start 'you take care of the French and I'll take care of the geography' and it worked out pretty well! I would tell you everything we did, but it would take several weeks. Your best bet is to look through my pictures on Facebook (which I only uploaded today as it was going to be a long job...) Needless to say, we had a fantastique time.
I was ridiculously tired after I'd packed Dad off home again, but there was very little time to recuperate as Hannah came out then, so a bit more tourism happened, and this weekend we've had Claire's boyfriend and her Dad, so another full house. We should open a hotel!
But it is lovely to see all these people from home. That is the truth. And what's even more wonderful is knowing that there's only another 9 weeks to go till I can see the people I love much more frequently. I've booked my final flight home (oo-er), which is pretty mind-blowing in itself! How have I gone from NEVER having flown to booking my LAST flight of the academic year? (I would say, last flight of the year, but I heard on the grapevine I'm heading to Germany in September...) Anyway, by the end of this trip I'll have spent 40 weeks abroad (I think, will do the maths when I'm not so tired!), and therefore I deserve a medal. Still, if I've done this, I can do anything, and therefore next year I will be unstoppable!
Anyway, I have to go to bed as one of my classes has been moved to 8.30 tomorrow, which involves me getting up at about 6am as it takes an hour to get into uni *sigh*. Oh well. On we go!
Dad came back to Geneva with me and we spent a very happy and slightly damp two weeks being shameless tourists. He said right near the start 'you take care of the French and I'll take care of the geography' and it worked out pretty well! I would tell you everything we did, but it would take several weeks. Your best bet is to look through my pictures on Facebook (which I only uploaded today as it was going to be a long job...) Needless to say, we had a fantastique time.
I was ridiculously tired after I'd packed Dad off home again, but there was very little time to recuperate as Hannah came out then, so a bit more tourism happened, and this weekend we've had Claire's boyfriend and her Dad, so another full house. We should open a hotel!
But it is lovely to see all these people from home. That is the truth. And what's even more wonderful is knowing that there's only another 9 weeks to go till I can see the people I love much more frequently. I've booked my final flight home (oo-er), which is pretty mind-blowing in itself! How have I gone from NEVER having flown to booking my LAST flight of the academic year? (I would say, last flight of the year, but I heard on the grapevine I'm heading to Germany in September...) Anyway, by the end of this trip I'll have spent 40 weeks abroad (I think, will do the maths when I'm not so tired!), and therefore I deserve a medal. Still, if I've done this, I can do anything, and therefore next year I will be unstoppable!
Anyway, I have to go to bed as one of my classes has been moved to 8.30 tomorrow, which involves me getting up at about 6am as it takes an hour to get into uni *sigh*. Oh well. On we go!
Wednesday, 4 April 2012
The tale of the lost voice...
Oh the irony of someone who pretty much talks for a degree losing their voice. But yes, I have the distinction of being quiet today and therefore I'm going to blog instead.
So, where was I? Ah yes, I'd just talked about our day round CERN. Well, the Tuesday we went to the UN and got utterly confused over the queuing system, but ultimately we got in and got on a tour. It was fantastic! Me and Emily geeked out rather a lot, I've no idea if the boys did, I wasn't paying enough attention! I got all excited over seeing the interpreting booths. All the rooms are decorated differently and there's a lot of artwork donated by different countries as gifts.
After that we had a nosy in the gift shop and went to do our touristy snaps outside the proper entrance of the UN, where all the flags are. Then it was back home, another film, dinner, etc. Oh yes, we tried to go for a fondue, but at 29 CHF each we thought better of it and just bought one from Carrefour (and saw my favourite security guard!)
Then the Very Sad Day arrived, and we went to Lake Geneva to have a look at the pretty view and eat a sandwich, but sadly we had to come home, grab stuff and go to the airport. I made a very quick exit, the quicker you get it over with, the better really. So it was a bit sad but lots of marvelous memories were made and hopefully we'll all do it again, somewhere else, somewhere different, but all together.
And now I am exceptionally tired. It is most frustrating to not have a voice! But Mumsie's going to make bacon and eggs for tea, so things are looking up! Till next time blogeurs.
So, where was I? Ah yes, I'd just talked about our day round CERN. Well, the Tuesday we went to the UN and got utterly confused over the queuing system, but ultimately we got in and got on a tour. It was fantastic! Me and Emily geeked out rather a lot, I've no idea if the boys did, I wasn't paying enough attention! I got all excited over seeing the interpreting booths. All the rooms are decorated differently and there's a lot of artwork donated by different countries as gifts.
After that we had a nosy in the gift shop and went to do our touristy snaps outside the proper entrance of the UN, where all the flags are. Then it was back home, another film, dinner, etc. Oh yes, we tried to go for a fondue, but at 29 CHF each we thought better of it and just bought one from Carrefour (and saw my favourite security guard!)
Then the Very Sad Day arrived, and we went to Lake Geneva to have a look at the pretty view and eat a sandwich, but sadly we had to come home, grab stuff and go to the airport. I made a very quick exit, the quicker you get it over with, the better really. So it was a bit sad but lots of marvelous memories were made and hopefully we'll all do it again, somewhere else, somewhere different, but all together.
And now I am exceptionally tired. It is most frustrating to not have a voice! But Mumsie's going to make bacon and eggs for tea, so things are looking up! Till next time blogeurs.
Sunday, 1 April 2012
Lucy the Linguist and Friends
Please excuse the pretentious-sounding title. It's a rip off Thomas the Tank Engine and Friends, of course, but you didn't need me to tell you that. Honest.
Last weekend the Lancaster cohort arrived! On Saturday (after much pacing, nail biting, cleaning, bed-making and a slight washing disaster) I went to the airport. I got there about a million hours early, which gave me time to go through the whole range of emotions. From the 'YAY' kind, to the 'when I see them I'm going to cry' kind, to the 'why are they even coming? It's going to hurt so much to say bye to them again' kind. I don't know if it's just me that does this, but I often get a plan in my head that I will try not to enjoy myself too much, to avoid the 'please don't go' feeling. I don't think it's fair to say to people that I don't want them to go, in the same way that if any of you ever said in a serious but selfish manner 'please come home', I wouldn't be impressed. If I could be at home, don't you think I probably would be? (I'm sure I'll delve into this more at some point, the whole double-emotions involved in a YA which I know most of you don't understand because to you this is a great big holiday for me. Well, it's not. It is in fact a year of utter limbo, of losing your identity, finding it, wondering who you are and what the heck you've signed up for. And why do you miss everyone twenty times more than if you were just away at uni?) Anyway. By the time Raph, Emily and Ollie emerged through the arrivals gate I was up to the 'I'm flaming bored of waiting and if they don't hurry up I'm going home' stage, which is a pretty good stage to be at as it doesn't involve tissues.
So we piled into Geneva to get them all travel cards (exceptionally good value. The system here is a bit different to the Motherland - you don't pay the bus driver or anything, you have to either have a travel card or buy a ticket before you get on. No one will ask to see your ticket, but inspectors do spot-checks and there's HUGE fines. This wouldn't work in England, but the entire system here is built on trust, and as such we all need to make an effort to fit in with the system, otherwise some selfish tourists will make them change the system to something much more regimented and humanity will be one step closer to self-destruction. Lecture over.) Then we got on a rather full bus back to my flat and I had the joy of saying 'welcome to France' as we crossed the border. I do love that part! A cup of tea, a glass of wine and a lasagne later, we settled down to watch a film.
The next day (Sunday) was the lovely Ollie's 20th birthday. Which made the rest of us feel old (especially Raph and Emily, who are staring 22 in the face, muahahahaha! Sorry guys, I'm paying you back for all the short jokes). So everyone slept in, as they were all suffering from second-term-itis. I'll be honest, they're doing nothing to sell final year to me! After a solid 10 hours sleep each (at least!), life started to emerge and I think we all felt better for chilling out. I cooked a Sunday roast, we had chicken (!!!!!), roasties, carrots, peas, Yorkshires (but they turned out a bit pants as the flour here sends everything all to-cock), and some gravy which Emily had kindly bought be another tub of! Honestly, a country without Bisto. The Piece de Resistance, however, was sneaking up on Ollie with his birthday cake out on the balcony while he was taking pictures of the mountains. Of course, the wind managed to blow most of the candles out before he had chance to, but still, the thought was there.
So the long and short of Sunday was, we didn't do a right lot. It's a pain in the backside to get in and out of Geneva on a Sunday anyway, and everyone was very happy to soak in the French atmosphere with another bottle of wine and good company. I hadn't talked to this lot for well over a month due to their horrific workload so we had plenty to catch up on. Like the entirety of my new life here, and how rubbish third year is.
Monday we went to CERN. This is the place that's been in the news for having the hydron collider and they're trying to find something very clever. All questions should be addressed to someone who has a clue about science. Anyway, it was very good! I was pleasantly surprised by how much I geeked out, and how many questions I felt the need to ask the boys (as they're both scientists). We spent ages there, even though there's only two exhibitions and a shop! Afterwards we went back into Geneva and walked towards the Jet d'eau and took the obligatory touristy snaps in front of that and the flower clock, and then it was time to head home. It was a day for pretending that turkey was in fact chicken (at least in my mind) and drinking more vino (I know we sound like alcoholics, but when a decent wine is 3,50 E a bottle, what is one to do???)
Right, I should get some shut-eye as I'm flying home tomorrow. Funny how I can never sleep before I fly. It's certainly not out of excitement though as airports are terminally boring (BAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Sorry, made my own joke there and laughed at myself. I'm tired, leave me alone!) I shall be back with part 2 of our epic adventure very soon I hope! I'll try not to keep you in suspense. Ta-ra!
Last weekend the Lancaster cohort arrived! On Saturday (after much pacing, nail biting, cleaning, bed-making and a slight washing disaster) I went to the airport. I got there about a million hours early, which gave me time to go through the whole range of emotions. From the 'YAY' kind, to the 'when I see them I'm going to cry' kind, to the 'why are they even coming? It's going to hurt so much to say bye to them again' kind. I don't know if it's just me that does this, but I often get a plan in my head that I will try not to enjoy myself too much, to avoid the 'please don't go' feeling. I don't think it's fair to say to people that I don't want them to go, in the same way that if any of you ever said in a serious but selfish manner 'please come home', I wouldn't be impressed. If I could be at home, don't you think I probably would be? (I'm sure I'll delve into this more at some point, the whole double-emotions involved in a YA which I know most of you don't understand because to you this is a great big holiday for me. Well, it's not. It is in fact a year of utter limbo, of losing your identity, finding it, wondering who you are and what the heck you've signed up for. And why do you miss everyone twenty times more than if you were just away at uni?) Anyway. By the time Raph, Emily and Ollie emerged through the arrivals gate I was up to the 'I'm flaming bored of waiting and if they don't hurry up I'm going home' stage, which is a pretty good stage to be at as it doesn't involve tissues.
So we piled into Geneva to get them all travel cards (exceptionally good value. The system here is a bit different to the Motherland - you don't pay the bus driver or anything, you have to either have a travel card or buy a ticket before you get on. No one will ask to see your ticket, but inspectors do spot-checks and there's HUGE fines. This wouldn't work in England, but the entire system here is built on trust, and as such we all need to make an effort to fit in with the system, otherwise some selfish tourists will make them change the system to something much more regimented and humanity will be one step closer to self-destruction. Lecture over.) Then we got on a rather full bus back to my flat and I had the joy of saying 'welcome to France' as we crossed the border. I do love that part! A cup of tea, a glass of wine and a lasagne later, we settled down to watch a film.
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| A Pacman cake. Severely limited on baking products, but hey we persevere! |
So the long and short of Sunday was, we didn't do a right lot. It's a pain in the backside to get in and out of Geneva on a Sunday anyway, and everyone was very happy to soak in the French atmosphere with another bottle of wine and good company. I hadn't talked to this lot for well over a month due to their horrific workload so we had plenty to catch up on. Like the entirety of my new life here, and how rubbish third year is.
Monday we went to CERN. This is the place that's been in the news for having the hydron collider and they're trying to find something very clever. All questions should be addressed to someone who has a clue about science. Anyway, it was very good! I was pleasantly surprised by how much I geeked out, and how many questions I felt the need to ask the boys (as they're both scientists). We spent ages there, even though there's only two exhibitions and a shop! Afterwards we went back into Geneva and walked towards the Jet d'eau and took the obligatory touristy snaps in front of that and the flower clock, and then it was time to head home. It was a day for pretending that turkey was in fact chicken (at least in my mind) and drinking more vino (I know we sound like alcoholics, but when a decent wine is 3,50 E a bottle, what is one to do???)
Right, I should get some shut-eye as I'm flying home tomorrow. Funny how I can never sleep before I fly. It's certainly not out of excitement though as airports are terminally boring (BAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Sorry, made my own joke there and laughed at myself. I'm tired, leave me alone!) I shall be back with part 2 of our epic adventure very soon I hope! I'll try not to keep you in suspense. Ta-ra!
Tuesday, 20 March 2012
The post-settling-in and pre-holiday slump.
A weekend of rain caught me by surprise. It's the first rain I've seen in over a month, but I still moaned. Can't take the British out of the Brit. Of course, I managed to go for a walk in Geneva while it was bucketing it down, got thoroughly cold and miserable, then came home and had a bath before I caught hypothermia. On the up, I discovered that my ski jacket is indeed as waterproof as the label claimed. And I did spend a wonderful hour in the bath. So, not a complete waste of a Sunday.
It appears that I have hit what I have declared is the post-settling-in and pre-holiday slump. This is the time when you start to realise that this is now your life. You have found a routine (hurrah!). You notice that only having enough clothes to last you 7 days means that you wear exactly the same thing every week. The security guard in Carrefour starts to recognise you. You've developed a taste for Brie and therefore you miss cheddar slightly less. Of course, not all of these things are bad, but you get sick of other people expecting you to be photographed next to ridiculous tourist attractions just to prove you're on your Erasmus year having the time of your life. And you start to think, a bit of normality wouldn't go amiss, which makes you think of the most normal place in the world, which has to be home. This isn't being homesick, this is being ready for a holiday at home. Quite a different thing.
Oh I am having the time of my life, believe me! I just feel I could have made more of an effort these past few weekends, I can almost feel the contempt people possibly have for the girl who lazes around on a weekend instead of running headlong at most of Europe. I can hear the 'I wish I had the opportunity to do that...'s lining up right now to batter me about the head.
However, luckily I don't give two hoots what anybody thinks. Unless you've been through this, you quite frankly have no right to comment or tell me what I should or shouldn't be doing. Neither do I care that your second-cousin-once-removed travelled and had the time of his life and worked as a barman on the Costa del Sol and got fluent in Spanish overnight. No he didn't, and even if he did, why do you think that is the perfect model of a YA? Remember the phrase 'hindsight is a wonderful thing'...
Anyway, enough of me moaning (sorry, it happens when you decide to blog when you should be snoring away). Instead of filling my last free weekend for a while (due to visits, a trip home, and more visits) with wearing myself out, I have taken the very wise advice of Winnie the Pooh: 'Don't underestimate the value of Doing Nothing, of just going along, listening to all the things you can't hear, and not bothering.' Wise words Pooh. Especially abroad. Other countries have different sounds, different smells, a veritable ambiance which is different. And as such, I do not believe I have wasted my time at all, rather soaked up the culture and my beautiful surroundings, not to mention caught up with sleep and got all this week's work done.
And in fact, we have done some things, they just happen to be what we want to do, and not things that people expect us to do. Today Claire and I discovered that we're right on the edge of the countryside, with a farm and little village which very much resembles the outer edges of Galgate, and there was a wonderful heron and another bird which Dad has identified as a Black Kite swooping about. Now if that isn't lovely, I don't know what is. Simplicity is soul-restoring.
Right, I'm going to shut up and go to bed now. Phew. Feel better for that though, I think I've been wanting to say this since September! Next time you hear someone's going to spend some time abroad, here's a list of things not to say:
1) You're going to have the time of your life.
2) You should make the most of it.
3) Oh can't be bad, going to live abroad for a while! Wish I could get away.
4) A year-long holiday! Lucky you!
Till next time blogeurs, when I shall have a very wonderful set of visitors to write about! Yay!
Loves xxx
It appears that I have hit what I have declared is the post-settling-in and pre-holiday slump. This is the time when you start to realise that this is now your life. You have found a routine (hurrah!). You notice that only having enough clothes to last you 7 days means that you wear exactly the same thing every week. The security guard in Carrefour starts to recognise you. You've developed a taste for Brie and therefore you miss cheddar slightly less. Of course, not all of these things are bad, but you get sick of other people expecting you to be photographed next to ridiculous tourist attractions just to prove you're on your Erasmus year having the time of your life. And you start to think, a bit of normality wouldn't go amiss, which makes you think of the most normal place in the world, which has to be home. This isn't being homesick, this is being ready for a holiday at home. Quite a different thing.
Oh I am having the time of my life, believe me! I just feel I could have made more of an effort these past few weekends, I can almost feel the contempt people possibly have for the girl who lazes around on a weekend instead of running headlong at most of Europe. I can hear the 'I wish I had the opportunity to do that...'s lining up right now to batter me about the head.
However, luckily I don't give two hoots what anybody thinks. Unless you've been through this, you quite frankly have no right to comment or tell me what I should or shouldn't be doing. Neither do I care that your second-cousin-once-removed travelled and had the time of his life and worked as a barman on the Costa del Sol and got fluent in Spanish overnight. No he didn't, and even if he did, why do you think that is the perfect model of a YA? Remember the phrase 'hindsight is a wonderful thing'...
Anyway, enough of me moaning (sorry, it happens when you decide to blog when you should be snoring away). Instead of filling my last free weekend for a while (due to visits, a trip home, and more visits) with wearing myself out, I have taken the very wise advice of Winnie the Pooh: 'Don't underestimate the value of Doing Nothing, of just going along, listening to all the things you can't hear, and not bothering.' Wise words Pooh. Especially abroad. Other countries have different sounds, different smells, a veritable ambiance which is different. And as such, I do not believe I have wasted my time at all, rather soaked up the culture and my beautiful surroundings, not to mention caught up with sleep and got all this week's work done.
And in fact, we have done some things, they just happen to be what we want to do, and not things that people expect us to do. Today Claire and I discovered that we're right on the edge of the countryside, with a farm and little village which very much resembles the outer edges of Galgate, and there was a wonderful heron and another bird which Dad has identified as a Black Kite swooping about. Now if that isn't lovely, I don't know what is. Simplicity is soul-restoring.
Right, I'm going to shut up and go to bed now. Phew. Feel better for that though, I think I've been wanting to say this since September! Next time you hear someone's going to spend some time abroad, here's a list of things not to say:
1) You're going to have the time of your life.
2) You should make the most of it.
3) Oh can't be bad, going to live abroad for a while! Wish I could get away.
4) A year-long holiday! Lucky you!
Till next time blogeurs, when I shall have a very wonderful set of visitors to write about! Yay!
Loves xxx
Sunday, 11 March 2012
A church, an encounter with Swiss efficiency, and a Specsavers appointment in the brewing.
Bonjour tout le monde!
Well it's been a week most ordinary. Last Sunday and this Sunday I braved church, which is always interesting when you move to a new place. This one's called Crossroads and is an English-speaking church, which is really quite nice! Some would say it's cheating, I say: why make life harder? If I didn't go to this one I'd have to cross the border, which is a nightmare on a Sunday. Besides, this church is right up my street, the people are very friendly and welcoming, and it feels like a little bit of home.
Aside from that, I generally felt pants last week. I think it might be time for new glasses with the amount of headaches I've had recently, but that's going to have to wait till Easter. Specsavers here I come (grumble groan, it's going to involve the usual talk with the optician about how I don't really need new specs because my eyes haven't changed that much, and me explaining that I'd rather not shell out for them but functioning with headaches isn't my idea of fun...)
Yesterday I found my way to the Jardin Botanique, which was a pain in the backside to get to because it seems half of the buses in Geneva don't run on a Saturday, even though there's times up at the bus stops for them. So much for Swiss efficiency. Anyway, I finally made it there. It's not all that interesting unless you're a botanist. I look at a rock with three different types of moss on them and I think 'oooh look at the pretty colours' and then move on, but I'm sure botonists don't. Anyway, I then made my way to Lake Geneva and had a nice little wander along the quay, but this time there wasn't any ice! I also stopped into C&A and maybe bought two tops. Oops. Oh well, only having about a week's worth of clothes is a pain, two tops mean washing doesn't have to be done in such an emergency every Tuesday.
That's me done for today Blogeurs, I'm hitting the hay. I'll try to do something more interesting this week!
Well it's been a week most ordinary. Last Sunday and this Sunday I braved church, which is always interesting when you move to a new place. This one's called Crossroads and is an English-speaking church, which is really quite nice! Some would say it's cheating, I say: why make life harder? If I didn't go to this one I'd have to cross the border, which is a nightmare on a Sunday. Besides, this church is right up my street, the people are very friendly and welcoming, and it feels like a little bit of home.
Aside from that, I generally felt pants last week. I think it might be time for new glasses with the amount of headaches I've had recently, but that's going to have to wait till Easter. Specsavers here I come (grumble groan, it's going to involve the usual talk with the optician about how I don't really need new specs because my eyes haven't changed that much, and me explaining that I'd rather not shell out for them but functioning with headaches isn't my idea of fun...)
Yesterday I found my way to the Jardin Botanique, which was a pain in the backside to get to because it seems half of the buses in Geneva don't run on a Saturday, even though there's times up at the bus stops for them. So much for Swiss efficiency. Anyway, I finally made it there. It's not all that interesting unless you're a botanist. I look at a rock with three different types of moss on them and I think 'oooh look at the pretty colours' and then move on, but I'm sure botonists don't. Anyway, I then made my way to Lake Geneva and had a nice little wander along the quay, but this time there wasn't any ice! I also stopped into C&A and maybe bought two tops. Oops. Oh well, only having about a week's worth of clothes is a pain, two tops mean washing doesn't have to be done in such an emergency every Tuesday.
That's me done for today Blogeurs, I'm hitting the hay. I'll try to do something more interesting this week!
Wednesday, 29 February 2012
Un long-weekend dans les montagnes
Apologies for the lack of blog of late, but things have been a little hectic. The uni is uber-organised, so classes are actually going reasonably well. There's only been one that sucked my soul out and necessitated a hot chocolate after so I could function well enough to get home, so that's not too bad. I need to find something to replace it but at the present time I have Mondays and Tuesdays off, so I'd rather not suddenly get something (mainly because I'm planning a few weekends away, and travelling on Tuesday is so much cheaper...)
Claire (flatmate who is also from Lancaster, for those of you who haven't been updated), arrived with her Mum, and we did a lot of food shopping and sight-seeing. On Saturday we went to Anzere (a ski resort in the mountains) and I stayed until yesterday. It was absolutely stunning, the mountains are like nothing I've ever seen before. I tried to take pictures but they really don't do them justice at all (but still, have a look!). Before you ask, no I didn't ski. I would like to return to the motherland with all my limbs if you don't mind. I can do without a trip to hospital.
Anyhow, I'm just waiting for my next lecture. I might geek-out and do my translation work for tomorrow's class (which I may or may not be allowed to take, as I'm still waiting for Lancaster to say yay or nay as it's a Master's course and so I apparently won't pass the exam, but the nice tutor said I could take it and he'd write a report for Lancs and they can decide at the end what grade I should get. Glad to see nothing changes on the emailing front.) One thing is certain, this is a heck of a lot easier than Bilbao was!
P.S. Flat Ted and Millie also having a great time.
Claire (flatmate who is also from Lancaster, for those of you who haven't been updated), arrived with her Mum, and we did a lot of food shopping and sight-seeing. On Saturday we went to Anzere (a ski resort in the mountains) and I stayed until yesterday. It was absolutely stunning, the mountains are like nothing I've ever seen before. I tried to take pictures but they really don't do them justice at all (but still, have a look!). Before you ask, no I didn't ski. I would like to return to the motherland with all my limbs if you don't mind. I can do without a trip to hospital.
Anyhow, I'm just waiting for my next lecture. I might geek-out and do my translation work for tomorrow's class (which I may or may not be allowed to take, as I'm still waiting for Lancaster to say yay or nay as it's a Master's course and so I apparently won't pass the exam, but the nice tutor said I could take it and he'd write a report for Lancs and they can decide at the end what grade I should get. Glad to see nothing changes on the emailing front.) One thing is certain, this is a heck of a lot easier than Bilbao was!
P.S. Flat Ted and Millie also having a great time.
Thursday, 16 February 2012
Je suis à Genève!
Bonjour bloggeurs!
Well I have arrived after a remarkably stress-free journey (which involved 2 buses, a train and a plane). First win of the day was being bang on 20kg according to Difficult Jet's scales (I'm sure they add a few kg just to charge you more).
The journey was pretty unremarkable, but it was fine, can't complain. My amazing landlady met me at the airport and took me to my flat, which not only sings and dances but pretty much turns somersaults as well. I didn't do much before collapsing into bed (which has pillows so fluffy I kept falling off them in the night!) with Millie, my marvelous hot water bottle, and Flat Ted, who is happy to be on the move again.
This morning I slept in a bit, then drank a fair amount of tea while googling where the tourist info is. I'm technically living in Ornyx, but practically speaking I'm in Ferney-Voltaire, which is on the French side of the border. Anyway, I found the tourist info, asked the nice lady how to get to Geneva etc, then faffed about for a million years getting change for the bus as the machine doesn't take notes. I finally made it to the bit of Geneva I was supposed to be at, then I got slightly lost trying to find the transport office, which was right under my nose, en fait. I got my 'carte de base' (which is a free thing you need in order to buy monthly travel tickets), and got the bus back before my good luck ran out!
On the way back I saw the UN building (I had wondered where it was on the way there and we stopped somewhere called 'Nations', must have had my eyes closed because it's huge). I called at Carrefour on the way home, didn't even need my directions to wander back to my flat and make spag bol.
All I can say is, I now remember why I love the Francophonie. The people are very pleasant and I've not spoken English all day, even though I know for a fact that the tourist info lady and the bloke who gave me my travel card both spoke English. People say hello when you pass them in the street. They don't look at you funny because you're a foreigner. Things couldn't be more different than when I went to Bilbao, and although I appreciate that having done it once it's a heck of a lot easier to do it a second time, things are different. As long as the uni doesn't annoy me too much over the next weeks, I might never leave!
Thanks for the love blogeurs, now who wants to come visit? I CAN SEE THE MONT BLANC!!!!
Well I have arrived after a remarkably stress-free journey (which involved 2 buses, a train and a plane). First win of the day was being bang on 20kg according to Difficult Jet's scales (I'm sure they add a few kg just to charge you more).
The journey was pretty unremarkable, but it was fine, can't complain. My amazing landlady met me at the airport and took me to my flat, which not only sings and dances but pretty much turns somersaults as well. I didn't do much before collapsing into bed (which has pillows so fluffy I kept falling off them in the night!) with Millie, my marvelous hot water bottle, and Flat Ted, who is happy to be on the move again.
 |
| Just to prove I was on a plane... |
This morning I slept in a bit, then drank a fair amount of tea while googling where the tourist info is. I'm technically living in Ornyx, but practically speaking I'm in Ferney-Voltaire, which is on the French side of the border. Anyway, I found the tourist info, asked the nice lady how to get to Geneva etc, then faffed about for a million years getting change for the bus as the machine doesn't take notes. I finally made it to the bit of Geneva I was supposed to be at, then I got slightly lost trying to find the transport office, which was right under my nose, en fait. I got my 'carte de base' (which is a free thing you need in order to buy monthly travel tickets), and got the bus back before my good luck ran out!
On the way back I saw the UN building (I had wondered where it was on the way there and we stopped somewhere called 'Nations', must have had my eyes closed because it's huge). I called at Carrefour on the way home, didn't even need my directions to wander back to my flat and make spag bol.
All I can say is, I now remember why I love the Francophonie. The people are very pleasant and I've not spoken English all day, even though I know for a fact that the tourist info lady and the bloke who gave me my travel card both spoke English. People say hello when you pass them in the street. They don't look at you funny because you're a foreigner. Things couldn't be more different than when I went to Bilbao, and although I appreciate that having done it once it's a heck of a lot easier to do it a second time, things are different. As long as the uni doesn't annoy me too much over the next weeks, I might never leave!
Thanks for the love blogeurs, now who wants to come visit? I CAN SEE THE MONT BLANC!!!!
Sunday, 12 February 2012
Reflections on being home.
I am such a bad blogger when I have nothing to moan about! Sorry for the lack of blogging but I've barely stood still since I got back. I won't bore you with all the details, but I've managed to visit all the family members I needed to, and seen my new baby niece (nawwwww!)
Anyhow, this blog post is something I've wanted to write for a long time, but I needed to wait till I'd been back in England for a while before I could write it. I went to Lancaster first (which is becoming something of a tradition but it's just been more practical that way) which was lovely. Seeing everyone was great, and although it fits like an old glove it really does serve to highlight the hundreds of miles of difference between old me and new me. And the fact that I haven't got a clue about the pain in the backside that final year appears to be, and therefore I'm very little use when people are going through tough times, though I can still brew a decent cup of tea (Lucy 1-0 Spain). Has to be said, I really don't want to do final year if that is what it looks like. But hopefully my year doing something different will be good because I've had some distance from the Lancaster bubble.
Home home (that is, York home) is less weird, because I've been coming and going from York for two years already, so it's just like normal. The only thing I have noticed is that my accent is back, partly because I am tired as anything and partly because I've had to attempt a daft accent for 5 months, the time to be myself is now, before I go back to being an Erasmus tourist.
And, for those of you who were wondering, I did have a very lovely Christmas/Birthday at home home too (several in fact, due to wonderful parents and wonderful friends!)
I move to Geneva on Wednesday, so no doubt there'll be more interesting bits to read then.
Till the next time :) x
Anyhow, this blog post is something I've wanted to write for a long time, but I needed to wait till I'd been back in England for a while before I could write it. I went to Lancaster first (which is becoming something of a tradition but it's just been more practical that way) which was lovely. Seeing everyone was great, and although it fits like an old glove it really does serve to highlight the hundreds of miles of difference between old me and new me. And the fact that I haven't got a clue about the pain in the backside that final year appears to be, and therefore I'm very little use when people are going through tough times, though I can still brew a decent cup of tea (Lucy 1-0 Spain). Has to be said, I really don't want to do final year if that is what it looks like. But hopefully my year doing something different will be good because I've had some distance from the Lancaster bubble.
Home home (that is, York home) is less weird, because I've been coming and going from York for two years already, so it's just like normal. The only thing I have noticed is that my accent is back, partly because I am tired as anything and partly because I've had to attempt a daft accent for 5 months, the time to be myself is now, before I go back to being an Erasmus tourist.
And, for those of you who were wondering, I did have a very lovely Christmas/Birthday at home home too (several in fact, due to wonderful parents and wonderful friends!)
I move to Geneva on Wednesday, so no doubt there'll be more interesting bits to read then.
Till the next time :) x
Monday, 23 January 2012
Saying 'agur'
Hello Followers! (as I've now left Spain, I can't call you blogueros anymore and as I've not hit Switzerland yet I can't say 'blogeurs' yet, so live with being called a sensible name for a few weeks)
Well yes, the end happened. The last few weeks in Bilbao got a bit mad, hence the lack of blogging, but I had one last exam (which wasn't all that fun, but this time last year there'd have been no way I could even attempt to write three essays in Spanish on Medieval Literature in an hour and a half. So even if I fail that exam, it's still a victory). The rest of the time was spent meeting up with people, and showing Kate around (as we had about a week's cross-over between her coming out to Bilbao and me leaving). Pintxos (Basque tapas) happened, as did Txacoli (Basque white wine), and chocolate con churros. I feel like I spent a week eating!
So I said 'agur' for the last time while leaving the Chinese shop that had practically set me up for the semester with mugs and teapots and such, and rammed as much into my hand luggage as possible due to Easyjet's rules on weight limit (basically, your hold luggage has to be 20kg or less, but your hand luggage can weigh anything as long as you can lift it. So a blanket, 3 jumpers, all my electricals and work went into one rucksack with a bit of brute force). I was still 1.5kg over when I got to the airport, but the nice lady didn't charge me so I consider that an epic win, given just how many clothes I brought back!
Right now I'm in Lancaster, chilling my beans in the Learning Zone and even working on my dissertation (shock, horror!) It's hilarious that I'm procrastinating from looking at DELC310 by doing 6000 words of translation, but this is the way I roll these days. So hard-core. I'm having a nice time though, I just feel a bit useless as everyone else is so busy and I have no idea what they're going through anymore, not having done final year yet.
Reverse-culture-shock is also a condition I feel I should probably write a self-help guide for in the near future. It's an interesting phenomenon that no one ever talks about, so I'll get round to it soon.
Right, dissertation time. See you soon people!
Well yes, the end happened. The last few weeks in Bilbao got a bit mad, hence the lack of blogging, but I had one last exam (which wasn't all that fun, but this time last year there'd have been no way I could even attempt to write three essays in Spanish on Medieval Literature in an hour and a half. So even if I fail that exam, it's still a victory). The rest of the time was spent meeting up with people, and showing Kate around (as we had about a week's cross-over between her coming out to Bilbao and me leaving). Pintxos (Basque tapas) happened, as did Txacoli (Basque white wine), and chocolate con churros. I feel like I spent a week eating!
So I said 'agur' for the last time while leaving the Chinese shop that had practically set me up for the semester with mugs and teapots and such, and rammed as much into my hand luggage as possible due to Easyjet's rules on weight limit (basically, your hold luggage has to be 20kg or less, but your hand luggage can weigh anything as long as you can lift it. So a blanket, 3 jumpers, all my electricals and work went into one rucksack with a bit of brute force). I was still 1.5kg over when I got to the airport, but the nice lady didn't charge me so I consider that an epic win, given just how many clothes I brought back!
Right now I'm in Lancaster, chilling my beans in the Learning Zone and even working on my dissertation (shock, horror!) It's hilarious that I'm procrastinating from looking at DELC310 by doing 6000 words of translation, but this is the way I roll these days. So hard-core. I'm having a nice time though, I just feel a bit useless as everyone else is so busy and I have no idea what they're going through anymore, not having done final year yet.
Reverse-culture-shock is also a condition I feel I should probably write a self-help guide for in the near future. It's an interesting phenomenon that no one ever talks about, so I'll get round to it soon.
Right, dissertation time. See you soon people!
Monday, 9 January 2012
The trip to the home of Manuel!
Hola blogueros!
So I went to Barcelona (hence the title of this post - Manuel from Fawlty Towers was from Barcelona)! I was met by the AMAZING Laura and Liria, and we had a disgustingly decadent brekkie of waffles with choccy sauce! We found my hotel, which was right down by the Sagrada Familia (you know, that great big church designed by Gaudí which hasn't yet been finished...) and it's so impressive I can't even describe... you should all book a ticket and go see it, you have to be there!
Anyway, we had some amazing tapas for lunch, then Liria and I went to Casa Batllo (another of Gaudí's creations). We think we might buy it when we have enough money! After, we met up with Laura again and we did something else. But right now, it escapes my memory!
On Thursday we went to the gothic quarter and had an amazing tour round by one of Laura's friends who knew lots about the history - he should really get a job as a tour guide. We also went to the port for some lunch, and a crepe. Hilariously, a bird chose this moment to poo on me and Laura nearly killed herself laughing at me. Typical! Anyway, no harm done and the good luck came true as after, Laura and I went to the Sagrada Familia (as in, inside it!) It was impressive, what can I say? You do really have to go to see it in person! But the more impressive thing is that we managed to walk straight in, which was incredible as the day before there was at least a 2 hour queue when we walked past it. See what I mean about good luck?
We went to watch the parade for Reyes, which I found brilliant! Such a novelty to see the Three Kings come in a parade and throw sweets out for the children. Dinner followed, then we all collapsed into bed!
Friday was my 21st, so I had a nice lie-in, then called big sis (as it's her birthday on the same day). Then I went to meet Erin for coffee (the same Erin that came to Bilbao a few blog posts back!) and we had a Starbucks - well when in Spain! Laura then took me to her house where her mum had done a lovely dinner for us, with a birthday cake and everything, it was lovely to spend time with a family too. We went to Park Guell (another Gaudí creation... anyone spot the theme emerging?) and wandered round there, then we all went to see these fountains in another park which have different coloured lights put on them, and music plays, and the fountains put on a little show! It was amazing! Sadly, they only did one performance because there was a technical issue so they had to cancel the rest, but what we did see was brilliant! From there we went for a birthday drink in a bar on top of the old bull fighting ring (as bull fighting's been outlawed in Catalonia they turned the Plaza de Toros into a shopping centre). There was a great view over the city, and we took advantage of a last few hours to chat as I had to leave ridiculously early the next day to get my flight back to Bilbao.
The flight wasn't too stressful, though my body clock is all confused after eating McDonalds at 6am (I know, weird!), falling asleep on the flight (which is only about 40mins long) and being woken up by an air-hostess telling me I had to turn my MP3 player off for landing. That would have been fine, but she spoke to me in Catalan first and I was genuinely sure for a moment that I'd forgotten all my Spanish! But by the time I'd got off the flight, waited for the bus, taken the metro and got to my flat, I was past being tired so just watched TV and napped a little bit for the rest of the day!
Anyone who wants to go to Barcelona, give me a yell, I'm up for a second visit! And it was a GREAT way to spend my 21st :) BIG THANKS to Laura and Liria for making it so wonderful and helping me to see as much as possible in very little time!
Till next time blogueros x
So I went to Barcelona (hence the title of this post - Manuel from Fawlty Towers was from Barcelona)! I was met by the AMAZING Laura and Liria, and we had a disgustingly decadent brekkie of waffles with choccy sauce! We found my hotel, which was right down by the Sagrada Familia (you know, that great big church designed by Gaudí which hasn't yet been finished...) and it's so impressive I can't even describe... you should all book a ticket and go see it, you have to be there!
Anyway, we had some amazing tapas for lunch, then Liria and I went to Casa Batllo (another of Gaudí's creations). We think we might buy it when we have enough money! After, we met up with Laura again and we did something else. But right now, it escapes my memory!
On Thursday we went to the gothic quarter and had an amazing tour round by one of Laura's friends who knew lots about the history - he should really get a job as a tour guide. We also went to the port for some lunch, and a crepe. Hilariously, a bird chose this moment to poo on me and Laura nearly killed herself laughing at me. Typical! Anyway, no harm done and the good luck came true as after, Laura and I went to the Sagrada Familia (as in, inside it!) It was impressive, what can I say? You do really have to go to see it in person! But the more impressive thing is that we managed to walk straight in, which was incredible as the day before there was at least a 2 hour queue when we walked past it. See what I mean about good luck?
We went to watch the parade for Reyes, which I found brilliant! Such a novelty to see the Three Kings come in a parade and throw sweets out for the children. Dinner followed, then we all collapsed into bed!
Friday was my 21st, so I had a nice lie-in, then called big sis (as it's her birthday on the same day). Then I went to meet Erin for coffee (the same Erin that came to Bilbao a few blog posts back!) and we had a Starbucks - well when in Spain! Laura then took me to her house where her mum had done a lovely dinner for us, with a birthday cake and everything, it was lovely to spend time with a family too. We went to Park Guell (another Gaudí creation... anyone spot the theme emerging?) and wandered round there, then we all went to see these fountains in another park which have different coloured lights put on them, and music plays, and the fountains put on a little show! It was amazing! Sadly, they only did one performance because there was a technical issue so they had to cancel the rest, but what we did see was brilliant! From there we went for a birthday drink in a bar on top of the old bull fighting ring (as bull fighting's been outlawed in Catalonia they turned the Plaza de Toros into a shopping centre). There was a great view over the city, and we took advantage of a last few hours to chat as I had to leave ridiculously early the next day to get my flight back to Bilbao.
The flight wasn't too stressful, though my body clock is all confused after eating McDonalds at 6am (I know, weird!), falling asleep on the flight (which is only about 40mins long) and being woken up by an air-hostess telling me I had to turn my MP3 player off for landing. That would have been fine, but she spoke to me in Catalan first and I was genuinely sure for a moment that I'd forgotten all my Spanish! But by the time I'd got off the flight, waited for the bus, taken the metro and got to my flat, I was past being tired so just watched TV and napped a little bit for the rest of the day!
Anyone who wants to go to Barcelona, give me a yell, I'm up for a second visit! And it was a GREAT way to spend my 21st :) BIG THANKS to Laura and Liria for making it so wonderful and helping me to see as much as possible in very little time!
Till next time blogueros x
Friday, 30 December 2011
The holiday that never was...
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!
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!
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
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