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Published: January 14th 2015
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Countryside
I took this picture while hopelessly lost in the countryside near the coast.. and those clouds were most definitely rain clouds. TravelMat.... well they asked for a 'nickname' for this blog, and I thought it was a good play-on-words (my name is Matt if any stranger is reading this).. until I realized it makes no sense. Unless you actually travel with a mat.. then it works. I, however, brought no mat with me to England.
So, after that little preamble, I'll start off by telling of my adventures.. or lack thereof.
Well actually, just a little more preambling to give this blog some good ol' context.
I left the cold, dead city of Winnipeg to work/live abroad in the southeast of England for a year. I am volunteering at an organization called L'arche, which has care-homes around the world for mentally disabled persons (that may not be the most politically correct definition, but I'm trying here). Also, for legal matters, the convoluted, self-gratifying words expressed in this blog are my own and in no way reflect the likely more dignified, professional opinions of those in and of L'arche International (that's right lawyers, come at me!).
So for a month I have been living in England, copying British accents, pretending I
More Countryside!
Unfortunately, there are no pots of gold in England either. walked into traffic on purpose (seriously, why must they drive on the left side of the road?), and finding that a part of me - a part I never really understood - really enjoys tea. Thanks England.
My first few days, however, I was in something of a funk. It was nearing Christmas when I arrived and there was no snow in sight. Everything was super expensive and the food tasted funny. At one point, desperate for something that reminded me of home, I ran to the nearby Subway. Eat fresh. Only, it wasn't really like the Subway's I knew, there were no banana peppers and in its place was a heaping bucket of corn. Corn. I was astounded. The McDonald's nearby wasn't much better, with the fries soaking in a different, albeit equally unhealthy grease (this blog also does not represent the altruistic views of McDonald's).
I also didn't know a soul for my first weeks. I found myself walking around Canterbury and admiring the scenery and making an obligatory trip to the cathedral that the other tourists were making such a fuss over. To be fair, it was pretty cool. They had
Foggy Days.. Every Day
In the way back, you can see the Cathedral... wrapped in fog. So, yeah. Zoom away. something called a 'high street' where cars really didn't go, and instead shops had their doors open, thousands of people bustled past one another and buskers sang from this street corner and that. Lights lit up the place at night, while pubs and cafes offered refuge from the cold air outside. For a small town, it was lively, and I found comfort in walking down busy streets, getting coffee and drinks, trying new food, and whatnot.
I also spent a weekend with my grandparents in Birmingham during Christmas, which was really nice. It was great to see familiar faces in a country utterly void of them.
In recent days, I find myself thinking of this place as home. Not in a totally sincere sense, but I'm really beginning to enjoy my time here. I love what I do, for the most part, with L'arche (I would talk in detail about work, but legal matters and such... if you must know, I will be glad to rant to you privately about my very stressful.. er, I mean amazing job).
I'll end with a story, and then update this blog on a bi-weekly or monthly basis (don't expect the former, but the latter).
At a church service I attended, there was a table in the back of the auditorium, loaded with a bunch of metal canisters, all filled with hot water - or so I presumed. I got myself a cup and put a tea bag in it, then added sugar and went for one of the metal canisters. Expecting water, I was instead met by brown, dark liquid - coffee. Coffee! In my ignorance, I supposed that the Brits didn't really drink coffee much and instead always had tea. I thought coffee was a rarity. A girl beside me noticed and asked if I always had coffee with my tea. A normal person would've just laughed and explained his mistake, but I thought I could salvage my dignity and pride.
I continued to poor coffee into my drink, stirred in milk, and explained to her in my most Canadian accent ever that us Canadians like to mix our tea and coffee. I don't know why I said that, I guess I thought she was as ignorant on Canada as I was on England.
She gave me a funny expression, 'weird, I was in Canada last year to see my family, and I never heard of that.'
'Must've been a different province," I mumbled before sipping that horrid drink, and walking away. Class act.
Anyways, this was a short entry, but I want to save stuff to write about later on! So until then, take care!
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