blog 3
Blog 3 November 21st 2006
Isobel complained about the cold as we walked back from school after art club today. In the half light of an autumn afternoon you could just make out the grimace of pain on her face despite the fleece, padded waterproof coat, hat and gloves.
“I want to go back to Al Ain,” she moaned, kicking at the heaps of wet yellow leaves in a pitiful sulk. “I hate this cold.” She got slower and slower in protest and although the sun was shining feebly and it was not raining, as soon as you stopped walking you could see her point. It’s probably about 4 degrees. The weather is very good for November, but we’re feeling the cold. The promise of spaghetti was about all that got her home – thank God for Italian food.
British winter always held a particular dread in the UAE, like the folk memory of wolves or plague, and was a major reason for staying so long in the Gulf. Now we’re here though, I’m actually enjoying the change of seasons more than I thought I ever would. There’s a big difference watching the dramatic change of the seasons in rural Wiltshire, and staring out at grey skies and rain on the parked cars in suburban Staines. Tom has made friends quickly and although we’ve been too busy to make anything other than acquaintances and renew old friendships in London and Manchester we have settled in quickly.
Still, the house is frigging cold when the heating is off or down too low, and winter hasn’t even started properly yet. Last month we installed a huge East German style ceiling-high radiator in our ‘sunroom’ which had no heating at all before, just so we can get clothes dry and keep that room from going Arctic. I’m wearing a t shirt, a long sleeved top and a fleece today, and fluctuate from being freezing when the heating is down to boiling hot after it’s turned it up. We decided to keep the heating on low in all the rooms all the time, but I’m always aware that this is like having the a.c. on in every room, which is fine until you get the bill, and so scuttle around in a scarf adjusting the radiators all day.
Money is really short now – we have enough to pay the mortgage, eat and pay the bills, but not to go out to the cinema or pub or shop in town. That is frustrating after years of only being able to choose between the Hilton, the Intercontinental or Pizza Hut for a drink or a meal. Now there are tempting bars, cafes, restaurants and entertainments at every turn, and we can just about stretch to fish and chips. Last time we went to one in Trowbridge Tom put on his most Little Lord Fauntleroy accent and wondered why there were, you know, so many ‘poor people’ there.
Meanwhile I am reduced to hovering excitedly like a Russian pensioner over every reduced price item at Asda and drinking Tesco 2% lager (4 cans for 88p) and the odd bottle of £2.10 gut-rot red wine at the weekend.
‘Life’ in the evenings revolves more and more around television: ‘Curb Your Enthusiasm’ (great US comedy on More 4), Have I Got News for You (yes it’s still going on BBC2), the Carry On antics of Russell Brand (on E4), Bremner (C4), The Daily Show with Jon Stewart (More 4), Jonathon Ross (everywhere) and anything on UKTV History including the What the Stuarts/Tudors/Romans Did for Us and the terminally depressing reruns of World at War. The price of this on Freeview is having to endure the crap adverts. People like Jane Fonda (not the magnificent, gorgeous Hanoi Jane of the ‘Fuck the Army’ coalition in her twenties) but the sixty-something freak selling skin moisturiser on every break on the History Channel.
On Sunday after days of incessant James Bond hype for Casino Royale we succumbed to the Bond franchise by watching the classic Lazenby Bond ‘On Her Majesty’s Secret Service’ on ITV4 and gorged ourselves on cheap German chocolate biscuits from Aldi and pretending Christmas had come early. God we felt ill.
Halloween and Guy Fawkes night UK style were an interesting first for the kids. Although the supermarkets are full of Halloween merchandise the English still stubbornly ‘do not do’ Halloween. OK, so a few stray Celts and hippie pagans may put a pumpkin in their window but generally there is resistance to the tradition. So when Tom and Isobel went trick or treating, unlike Ireland, Scotland or Al Ain for that matter the streets were fairly quiet apart from a couple of groups of kids timidly knocking at doors . One in ten houses with the pumpkins in the windows are safe to knock on, but the others are likely to get dark ‘bugger off’ looks and comments. We chaperones Isobel and Tom to a few of the school friend’s houses and only got one ‘we don’t do Halloween’ complaint from the one mother who didn’t have a pumpkin in her window.
Guy Fawkes, a week later, by contrast is like the 4th of July for the UK. Everyone is out at bonfires letting off fireworks and gathering at the park for more or less organised displays. Our local pub down by the river had a huge crowd, excellent fireworks and a terrifying large bonfire made up of hundreds of pallets and branches trimmed from the woods and hedges. People were drinking mulled wine and hot toddies staring at the enormous fire. The atmosphere was very traditionally English – a sort of sober, determined Protestant solidarity, without the religious bit.
Right, apart from watching TV and autumn walks, that’s about it. Student life is good and I’m enjoying my once a week commute to Bournemouth. Sarah is getting on fine at Bath – still just six hours and the resources are: 1 old photocopier by the sound of it, but the students are nice. Do keep the emails coming – we like to hear how our friends are getting on, even when the news is not good.
p.s.
By the way – we STILL haven’t got broadband and we started out application in June with BT and then early September with Talk Talk. If you are thinking of coming back in the next few years I’d put in your application for broadband now.
Isobel complained about the cold as we walked back from school after art club today. In the half light of an autumn afternoon you could just make out the grimace of pain on her face despite the fleece, padded waterproof coat, hat and gloves.
“I want to go back to Al Ain,” she moaned, kicking at the heaps of wet yellow leaves in a pitiful sulk. “I hate this cold.” She got slower and slower in protest and although the sun was shining feebly and it was not raining, as soon as you stopped walking you could see her point. It’s probably about 4 degrees. The weather is very good for November, but we’re feeling the cold. The promise of spaghetti was about all that got her home – thank God for Italian food.
British winter always held a particular dread in the UAE, like the folk memory of wolves or plague, and was a major reason for staying so long in the Gulf. Now we’re here though, I’m actually enjoying the change of seasons more than I thought I ever would. There’s a big difference watching the dramatic change of the seasons in rural Wiltshire, and staring out at grey skies and rain on the parked cars in suburban Staines. Tom has made friends quickly and although we’ve been too busy to make anything other than acquaintances and renew old friendships in London and Manchester we have settled in quickly.
Still, the house is frigging cold when the heating is off or down too low, and winter hasn’t even started properly yet. Last month we installed a huge East German style ceiling-high radiator in our ‘sunroom’ which had no heating at all before, just so we can get clothes dry and keep that room from going Arctic. I’m wearing a t shirt, a long sleeved top and a fleece today, and fluctuate from being freezing when the heating is down to boiling hot after it’s turned it up. We decided to keep the heating on low in all the rooms all the time, but I’m always aware that this is like having the a.c. on in every room, which is fine until you get the bill, and so scuttle around in a scarf adjusting the radiators all day.
Money is really short now – we have enough to pay the mortgage, eat and pay the bills, but not to go out to the cinema or pub or shop in town. That is frustrating after years of only being able to choose between the Hilton, the Intercontinental or Pizza Hut for a drink or a meal. Now there are tempting bars, cafes, restaurants and entertainments at every turn, and we can just about stretch to fish and chips. Last time we went to one in Trowbridge Tom put on his most Little Lord Fauntleroy accent and wondered why there were, you know, so many ‘poor people’ there.
Meanwhile I am reduced to hovering excitedly like a Russian pensioner over every reduced price item at Asda and drinking Tesco 2% lager (4 cans for 88p) and the odd bottle of £2.10 gut-rot red wine at the weekend.
‘Life’ in the evenings revolves more and more around television: ‘Curb Your Enthusiasm’ (great US comedy on More 4), Have I Got News for You (yes it’s still going on BBC2), the Carry On antics of Russell Brand (on E4), Bremner (C4), The Daily Show with Jon Stewart (More 4), Jonathon Ross (everywhere) and anything on UKTV History including the What the Stuarts/Tudors/Romans Did for Us and the terminally depressing reruns of World at War. The price of this on Freeview is having to endure the crap adverts. People like Jane Fonda (not the magnificent, gorgeous Hanoi Jane of the ‘Fuck the Army’ coalition in her twenties) but the sixty-something freak selling skin moisturiser on every break on the History Channel.
On Sunday after days of incessant James Bond hype for Casino Royale we succumbed to the Bond franchise by watching the classic Lazenby Bond ‘On Her Majesty’s Secret Service’ on ITV4 and gorged ourselves on cheap German chocolate biscuits from Aldi and pretending Christmas had come early. God we felt ill.
Halloween and Guy Fawkes night UK style were an interesting first for the kids. Although the supermarkets are full of Halloween merchandise the English still stubbornly ‘do not do’ Halloween. OK, so a few stray Celts and hippie pagans may put a pumpkin in their window but generally there is resistance to the tradition. So when Tom and Isobel went trick or treating, unlike Ireland, Scotland or Al Ain for that matter the streets were fairly quiet apart from a couple of groups of kids timidly knocking at doors . One in ten houses with the pumpkins in the windows are safe to knock on, but the others are likely to get dark ‘bugger off’ looks and comments. We chaperones Isobel and Tom to a few of the school friend’s houses and only got one ‘we don’t do Halloween’ complaint from the one mother who didn’t have a pumpkin in her window.
Guy Fawkes, a week later, by contrast is like the 4th of July for the UK. Everyone is out at bonfires letting off fireworks and gathering at the park for more or less organised displays. Our local pub down by the river had a huge crowd, excellent fireworks and a terrifying large bonfire made up of hundreds of pallets and branches trimmed from the woods and hedges. People were drinking mulled wine and hot toddies staring at the enormous fire. The atmosphere was very traditionally English – a sort of sober, determined Protestant solidarity, without the religious bit.
Right, apart from watching TV and autumn walks, that’s about it. Student life is good and I’m enjoying my once a week commute to Bournemouth. Sarah is getting on fine at Bath – still just six hours and the resources are: 1 old photocopier by the sound of it, but the students are nice. Do keep the emails coming – we like to hear how our friends are getting on, even when the news is not good.
p.s.
By the way – we STILL haven’t got broadband and we started out application in June with BT and then early September with Talk Talk. If you are thinking of coming back in the next few years I’d put in your application for broadband now.
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