A Fortnight In

Settling in at Langdale has been made relatively easy by Mr.Patell, our Indian landlord. Mr.P as we’ve dubbed him, also owns the local corner store, which conveniently has a liquor license. We are quickly becoming his best clients. He promises to bring around a curry and in return we will cook him a traditional Aussie barbeque.

Our body clocks have now adjusted to the time difference, and bouncing out of bed at 4 or 5am is now not as much of a problem. The weather is still extremely cold, although the Dooner purchases, or Duvell’s as they are strangely called over here, provide ample warmth at night.

With Grovesy and Jonesy arriving this week the house is now full and deemed as the ultimate bachelor pad, the envy of every fun-loving crim. The house itself is actually in pretty good shape and for a party of five is remarkably clean (well most of the time). This is largely due to our Pushup Policy, a brainchild of ours that punishes an agreeable amount of pushups for any indiscretions. It seems to be working, and our bodies are beginning to wreak the rewards.

Household chores are being shared between the five of us, but since cleaning, washing up and cooking are elements of living that are relatively new to me I am possibly struggling the most. For instance, a fortnight in and I have discovered that ironing is a skill that I am yet to fully master. A singe on the sleeve of a rather expensive t-shirt and a steam burn to my left wrist are testament to this. Yep, any future wife of mine must be able to wield an iron.

With Azz still yet to work a day, he has had time to take on the role of interior decorator. Local Football jumpers, photos of those back home, and tacky Australian memorabilia now don our walls, adding a homely feel to it, and ensuring locals know that the Aussie boys have stained their neighbourhood.

Headingley is university town and waves of uni students have begun to crash back into town, pleasing us all. The quality of ladies over here is better than what I thought. By in large, the UK boys over here struggle. They don’t look after themselves nearly as much, this is very apparent in the way many of the girls have taken to us. Networking has happened in the blink of an eye. Already, we seem to have people coming and going as they please. We have all achieved varying level of success, if you know what I mean. We have also vowed to not settle down. Far too much fun is to be had. Much of last weekend was spent telling whoever would listen of our upcoming house warming. Largely girls (but not large girls) were privy to an invite to a party promising to deliver debauchery (do you like my double alliteration?)

Watch this space
Dave

I resigned from the Learning Centre that I was at with my life still in tact, and I am taking on a PE position at Airdale Secondary College this week

---

---