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Life in Exeter

As you may have noticed, and/or commented to us, time between blogs has extended somewhat since our travelling has noticibly stalled. This is simply while we allow the bank account to rejuvinate and we try to assimilate into this crazy English countryside...




The home...


Since arriving in Exeter, and after a short stint in the local backpackers, we were able to find accomodation - renting a room in a townhouse owned by an older couple, Jackie and Des, who's children have grown up and left a few empty rooms.


The house is in a handy position, being only a few minutes walk from town (and hence the bus for Dav) and a 20 minute stroll to my place of employement - the Royal Devon and Exeter Hospital.


The house is also shared by a younger couple (Daniel and Lucy, whom we see occcasionally in the kitchen awaiting their pizza/burrito/some other delicious-but-bad-for-you meal to heat up before they scurry back to their room), Jackie's 91 year old mother Irene, and the loveable Benji (dog) and Feeler (cat).



The jobs...


Adjusting to working-life in the hospital was initially a bit of a challenge - not only am I working within a government-run public hospital system (very different to the community setting of my work-life back home) but I am also having to deal with new names of drugs and the convulated ways in which they do things here.... And all while having to deal with taking that backwards slide on the career ladder by having to work as a pharmacy technician and not as a pharmacist....


Eight weeks in, I have the processes down pat (more or less), however the boredom of not using my brain for decisions greater than how-to-most-effectively-stick-a-label-on-a-box is setting in, and definately motivating me to do further study and/or to work within the hospital system when we get back home....



Although off to a slow start the first week, Dav was soon inundated with work offers. After a 4 hour shift from hell on the Tuesday (manually unpacking a shipping container of bathroom equipment), he must have impressed someone as the next day the same recruitment agency offered him a 6 week contract at Gasco, a company that produces fire places. The job involves organising and receiving orders and deliveries, computer work, forklift driving, etc. So he started this job on the Wednesday afternoon after being offered it in the morning.


Dav also did a trial at Pizza Hut on the same Wednesday night, from which he got the job. He does this mainly Wednesday to Saturday nights, and while the free pizza is a bonus, 7 weeks in, the 50-60 hour weeks, including, for example the 15 hour day today... are starting to outweigh the pros. But he plans on only really doing it for a few more weeks to help boost the bank balance. Plus it's a handy skill to be able to whip up a hearty pizza! Will definately come in handy when we are tribillionairs and have our wood-fired pizza oven at home.... mmmmm....pizza....


Back to the job offers, on that very same Wednesday he also received a call from the sports store in town (JJB Sports) asking him to go in for an interview on the weekend. Which he went to, and got, and seeing that it was a permenant position, he decided to take that instead of the Gasco job which was only really guaranteed up until a few weeks before Christmas.


JJB however proved to be quite a stressful position, especally for the minimum wage they were paying. So, when Gasko were able to offer him a long term position, he snapped that up, starting back there at the begining of December. Not only is the job with Gasko better paid and the skills he is learning far more appealing on the CV, but the position is also less stressful, and the people are a lot nicer. So, all in all, a good decision!






The exploring...


As far as looking around Exeter, we have had a few limited outings, having to rely on a very sparse public transport system on the weekends...



Plymouth


Our first day out was a flying trip to Plymouth in early November as we had to head down there to have our NI number interviews (so that we could get issued out NI (National Insurance) numbers (equivalent to the tax file number back home).


So after an hour long train ride, and after our 10 minute interview, we headed down to the wharf for a quick look around. It was from that very dock that the ship that first settled America left in 1583, and also the lesser known 'Tory' left to settle New Zealand in 1839. After a quick feed of chips and a walk up to the headland, it was back to the train station and back to Exeter city...


All in all, we found Plymouth to be quite a nice place... and dare we say it, perhaps a little nice than Exeter..? There is a great degree of competition between Exeter and Plymouth, as although Exeter is officially the capital city of the Devon shire, Plymouth has a greater population now and so is increasingly referred to as the capital of Devon. And, even more disturbingly to Exeter-arians, especially Des and Jackie, Plymouth's football team is a grade or two higher than Exeter's.... So, while I type these word now, I daren't speak them outloud in this household for fear I shall spend a chilly night locked outdoors!




Exeter's underground tunnels


Here's the abbreviated (and mostly accurate) history lesson to begin:


Exeter was initially establised by the Celtics, who were then later run out of town by the Romans in roughly 50AD. Given that they weren't very popular, the Romans build a 30 foot high brick/stone wall surrounding the city - encompassing an area approximately 42 acres (which is now mostly the main city centre).


The Romans eventually left the area and Exeter was actually a bit of aghost town for a few hundred years until the Saxons moved on in. While the population was relatively small, the townspeople were provided with water from a couple of natural springs within the walls of the city but as the population grew, the water supply simply wasn't enough. And so from the 1340's, water was piped up from the nearby River Exe and transported into the city via underground lead pipes.


Given that these pipes were prone to leaking, and the sheer pain to have to dig down 10 feet or more each time to fix these leaks, they cleaverly build tunnels above the water pipes. This meant that any maintenance was able to be done from these tunnels, where they only had to dig down half a foot or so to access the pipes. Very cleaver! (In a cool little sub-note, the underground tunnels weren't actually 'tunnelled' out, but instead they dug trenches, reinforced them and covered them back up. Must have been onto something as they are still lasting some six to seven HUNDRED years later!)


Eventually the town sourced water in other ways following a cholera outbreak in 1832 and the shocking discovery that water could harbour nasty bugs...!


But the tunnels remained, serving to be quite useful at different times, such as when a few hundred people packed into them when the city was being bombed during the second world war (amazing when you see how small an area they all fit into...)


Anyway, parts of these tunnels are still available for public access via an organised tour (hence gorgeous hard hat in photo), so that is where we headed one Sunday afternoon in November. It was amazing to think of what the poor plumbers had to endure - in most cases the tunnels were originally only a couple of feet tall (they have made them taller in most sections so that crazy tourists (us) can walk through in reasonable comfort), and obviously very dark and damp - not at all like the lit passage we were lucky to use. And to top it all off, those poor plumbers - cold, wet damp, digging and fixing pipes in the cramped darkess - also had to content with rats who were a massive problem given the fact that the most popular method for fixing a leak was to rub animal fat into the crack...


And in a little subnote about me have a blonde moment.... I could smell sweat quite strongly as we walked through the tunnels, and so was thinking about how amazing it was that we could still smell the perspiration of these townsmen who worked tirelessly fixing and mending the tunnels, so so very long ago.... And it wasn't until I hung the hardhat back on the hook at the end of the tour, that I realised it was the sweat band in the hardhat, obviously soaking up the nervous perspiration of many a tourist over the years.... obviously, not the workmen from half a mellinium ago.... derr.....




The Cathedral Close


Exeter council runs a fantastic program of twice-daily free guided tours around different areas of historical interest around the city. One Sunday in late November we decided to finally take advantage of this wonderful program, and so after rugging up in many, many layers, we headed off for a tour of the Cathedral Close - the streets immediately around the beautiful Exeter Cathedral.


The tour went for an hour and a half and while we braved the freezing condtions (not even really much of an exageration - it was 2 degrees not taking into consideration the wind chill) to hear the amzing stories, From seeing the shop where they made the actual royal christening gown that has been used for many many generations, to seeing part of the original wall surounding Exeter, it was a fantastic tour, lasting an hour and a half.


One highlight, as seen in the photos, was seeing the 'touching stone'. As the population grew, they decided to make a new entrance to the city by knocking down some of the wall. This, however, meant that the country folk heading into town passed directly onto private cathedral land. In order to 'purify' them before setting foot on the sacred ground, the visitor had to touch the 'touching stone'. This could either be done by touching it with the hand (logical), or for those who couldn't be bothered getting of their horse/out of their carriage, touching it with the sword (lazy), or by spitting on it (simply wrong...)




Birmingham


We scored a free bus ride to Birmingham in early December. Jackie (landlord) and her mum were booked in on a shopping day-trip to the big smoke, and decided not to go, giving us their tickets.


So, up bright and early on the Saturday morning to catch the bus at 7am (a feat made all the more difficult given the fact that Dav worked at Pizza Hut until 1am the night before..), we set off on the three and a half hour bus trip north. Dav was the only guy on board, with the bus filled with middle-aged women intent on grabbing the best bargains in Birmingham. The picture was complete with mid-drive, the bingo cards being handed out and some serious competition begining....


Birmingham was absolutely packed, with our little shopping group obviously not being that unique. We fought our way through the crowds to check out Victoria Square (named after Queen Victoria who died 8 days later..) with the 'Floozie in the Jaccuzi', one of the biggest water fountains in Europe... although the water wasn't actually running that day...


We also visited their art gallery and museum, and had grand plans on visiting the area in which JRR Tolkien lived and is believed to be the inspiration for the Shire in the Hobbit. The idea was discared though once learning that he actually only lived there for 4 years, and that the local information place was closed over winter... So we headed back through the crowds, checking out the German market and collecting a few bits and pieces.


So all in all, we're not sure that Birmingham would be high on the list of must see places but was a good (long) day out, and it was free, so can't complain!



The sports ...


Dragonboat racing


Keen to participate in some sort of local sporting organisation, one chilly Sunday morning we braved the icey streets as we made our way down to the River Exe to partake in dragoboat racing with two ladies from my work. We were told that this was a casual, relaxing day, as it was the last outing before the team broke up for Christmas, and so a great chance for us to see if it was something we enjoyed....


In a nutshell, dragonboat racing is basically team rowing in a large boat holding up to 20 people, sitting two by two (like vikings) each person rowing either on the right or left side, and one person at the back controlling the rudder.


To start with it was very chilly - Deb, one of the ladies from work, was really nice and actually scraped the ice of my seat before i sat down... But it didn't take long to heat up as we rowed, with military precision, down the river. We rowed down to a pub called 'Double Locks', where we stopped for a breather and some hot Ribena (soooo nice! Just blackcurrent cordial with hot water (same mix as cold) that the 'rudder' man had in a thermos and was kind enough to share around) , before we headed back to the rowing club.


All in all, it probably isn't the sport for us - the early chilly mornings are certainly a negative - and we're not too keen on the one-sided movement (I was definately not keen on it the next day when i thought my shoulders, arm, back and stomach muscles were all tearing away from the bone...) But was fun to try something new, and we did learn that the rowing club hires out canoes, so that is something that we plan on taking advantage of.




Korfball


In another attempt to socialise in a sporting arena, we stumbled accross 'Korfball' - a Dutch game that very few people have actually heard of it seems, even here in England. It is a mixed team sport - 4 girls and 4 boys on each team - and is a cross between basketball and netball. It was invented by a teacher who wanted to have agame that both boys and girls could play together, with no advantage given to height or strength.


And so we headed off to our first training session... Was quite interesting - our general ability to catch and throw was welcomed, although previous basketball experience was not necessarily an advantage. The shooting style is comepletely different - and so we felt a tad uncoordinated and goofy as we fumbled our way through it. But, was good to have a run around and get the heart rate up a bit, and we will most probably continue with it once it all starts up again after the Christmas break... unless a better offer comes along!

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Photos

Dougie eat your heart out...
...you know, the pizza boy... from the ad.......not quite as good when you have to explain it

The 'Floozie in the Jaccuzi'
Birmingham

Benji (or Laddie as we like to call him) - could he be any cuter?
Laddie.... like a boy Lassie....