The Reality of it all

It’s true that sometimes you need to step away from something in order to have a good look at it and being away from Peterborough for two years and returning a week ago has certainly offered me a new perspective on my hometown. My first reaction to the city was just how large everything seemed. Cars are larger, houses are larger (and mostly detached), gardens, streets, and unfortunately, the woman seem larger than in the UK. I am still finding it odd catching the Canadian accent when we are out shopping and I feel as though I am hearing my voice through a recorded message for the first time. Is that really how I sound? No wonder the Brits would mistake me for American. We really do sound a lot alike (except for the southern states or the Midwest that is

It seems funny to be using the Canadian dollar again with the coloured bills all in the same size. British notes were certainly not as colourful but they varied in size depending on the denomination (a fiver was smaller than a twenty) which aided in identification, I thought. Canadian flags posted on buildings, sitting on car antennas, or hanging as curtains are further reminders that I am not in the UK anymore.

We are getting a kick out of (or should I say quickly irritated by) the slow rate at which Peterborough residents drive compared to Dartford. A green light here means let me think about this for a second, gee what colour is that light, well I guess I should go now and I can feel Rick’s skin crawling as we sit only three car lengths behind and still waiting for our turn to go left. Gone are the roundabouts and being able to whiz around town, weaving in and out of the streets, and squeezing into ridiculously narrow parking spaces. Here the drivers like to travel at a snail’s pace and cautiously manoeuvre their massive Buicks into parking lots built for caravans. Even the way shoppers walk in the mall seems slower to us and it is as though we have been transported into a Valium-filled bubble and we can’t decipher if this is the dream and UK is the reality or vice versa.

We have had our share of sticker shock with a visit to the grocery store and dropped 50 bucks for one dinner for the family. You may think well that isn’t a big deal but when we are so used to hitting the market in Dartford on a Saturday and loading up on avocados, bananas, apples, onions, tomatoes, you name it, for a pound a bowl, we croaked when saw the price of produce here. Even since returning we have had our friends ask us if we found it expensive to live in the UK. Generally that is the opinion Canadians have about the country (as did we before moving) but the truth of the matter is that as I mentioned food is certainly less expensive as are toiletry items like shampoo (2 pounds as opposed to 7 dollars), clothing (endless good quality items found in charity shops for under 5 pounds), household items and furniture, and the list goes on. I am sure that as the weeks go by and we continue to reacquaint ourselves with life in Ontario, we will be battling it out with the cost of living and doing our best to budget effectively.

I think the greatest disappointment we have faced since coming home is the state of our house. The overgrown gardens were one thing (it was our responsibility as the owner to maintain this) but when I think of how tidy we kept our place in Dartford, the flowers we planted, and the lovely vegetable garden Rick tended, I just couldn’t imagine renting a place for a year and not so much as pulling a blade of grass. The inside of the house was another story. How frustrating to see the place looking so dirty and dishes chipped, broken, and things missing. And this was from a tenant that kicked up such a stink when he moved in claiming it was filthy, the cupboards were messy, flies were in the light over the stove, and tissue was left in the garbage in the bathroom (really insignificant things to be honest) and he wasn't sure if he wanted to move in after all.

This was the same person that claimed he was “freakishly clean due to the nature of his profession (a chef)” and he “would be the best tenant you have ever had”. So even though we questioned the state of the house when he moved in since family had lived there before hand, we dished out the cash to get the place professionally cleaned in order to keep what we thought was a fussy clean freak chap happy. How ironic that he turns out to be a slob and the state of the kitchen was such that there would be no way I would want to prepare food in it. So this started me thinking about what else he could have lied about to us and suddenly I didn’t trust him. How unsettling to have someone living in your house and mistreating it and all I can think is that I want him out.

Thank goodness we came home when we did. If he had rented the house any longer, heaven knows what further damage he could have done. So when we meet with him on Wednesday the 31st to conduct our inspection with our inventory sheet (and probably a video camera), I can honestly say that I will most certainly let the door hit him in the ass (his sorry Canadian ass, that is) when he leaves. This is when I wished we owned a big ugly dog to chew at his heels and chase him off of the property. Anyone willing to loan us such a beast on Wednesday, feel free to give us a call.

Hello my Friend...

We have just returned from our two week camping trip in France and northern Spain and are now in the thick of packing up the house. We fly home on the 19th of August and there is much to do before we leave on Friday.

We have loaned out our camping equipment and delivered most of the items we sold at our “Going out of Business” party in June. The car (aka Sticky Vicky Vauxhall) is tidy and ready to be packed with the things we want to keep here. She will be covered and stored at our friend’s place down the street and we are happy that we won’t be parting with her as a result of the move. It’s amazing when I think that we only paid 450 pounds which included 200 pounds worth of licensing and all the places that she has taken us since we bought her last year. Why we must have put at least 3,000 km on her this summer alone. Sounds odd, but I feel as though the car has been our friend; and a faithful and reliable friend at that. How many times have we pulled out our map of the UK, and most recently the European one, and took to the road for another adventure?

And this summer’s travels were particularly memorable. Firstly, Rick did a terrific job of driving back “on the other side” and despite a couple of wrong turns, we really didn’t get lost. I enjoyed being the navigator and reading the maps, watching for signs, and being the one to tell Rick “where to go”. We did find that the European map we purchased was not entirely accurate and there were times that we were relying on Rick’s keen sense of direction to get us where we needed to go. My personal favourite was when we were just outside of Caen, France on a ring road round the city and it wasn’t until we passed the IKEA under construction twice that we realized we had made a complete loop. Never mind, we managed to take the correct exit on our second attempt. And this was generally how things went for us. If we messed up, it wasn’t long and we were back on track again. The sign of a seasoned traveler, perhaps?

The biggest challenge we faced with camping was actually being able to get an undisturbed night’s sleep. What is it about camping that encourages folks to sit outside, drink, and talk until the wee hours of the morning with little or no consideration for other fellow campers? In fact, our first night in France had us listening to a group of chaps laughing and talking literally until the sun came up. And then as the daylight emerged, they packed up their cars and left the camp ground! Gee, thanks for that. What could you possibly have to say that requires you to talk all night? Anyhow, we did bring ear plugs but that didn’t do the trick with drowning out their laughter so we just had to rely on extra coffee to keep us vertical the next day.

We found the travelling through Western France pretty boring, to be honest. It was very much like driving in northern Ontario with miles and miles of forest and a monochromatic and flat landscape. It reminded me of the times that my family would be loaded in the car and made the journey between Nipigon and Thunder Bay and how you would just want to shoot yourself if you saw yet another ever green tree or rock cliff! The good news is that once we made it south of Bordeaux and headed towards San Sebastian, the Pyrenees emerged and the scenery suddenly got interesting (actually it was spectacular). As well, the cost of tolls to travel on the major highways along with the higher gas prices also meant that we were pretty pleased to have made it to Spain (the home of all things cheap).

Once in Spain, I did find, however, that unlike French, I struggled a bit with Spanish. A highlight for me, when we spent the day checking out San Sebastian, was when Ricky confidently ordered us dos cafe Americanos con leche. Where did that come from, I thought? As a result, I crowned Rick “The King of Spain”. It is funny how your partner’s strengths (and or weaknesses) can be revealed when you travel. I guess what I am trying to say here is that travelling can put you out of your comfort zone particularly when there are language barriers to overcome. But what I learned on our European vacation is that you can’t be afraid to give it a go even if you think you may not say things just right. It is more important to make the effort and surprise yourself (and your partner). I also found most French people to be very receptive to our efforts and in turn they would take a stab at some English as well. It is also interesting how hand gestures and facial expressions also play a big part in being able to interpret what someone is saying and I learned to pay attention to these as well.

So when we made our loop past Pamplona and then north ward again toward France, I was studying our French guidebook and reacquainting myself with the language. I was fortunate to have studied French in Elementary School all through Secondary School and again in College so I was feeling eager to try out such things as “Il vous reste des place?” and “Combien pour une nuit?” all in order to secure us a camp site but more so to show Rick that I could contribute too. It did render me the title of the “Queen of France” and that’s what I’m talking about!

And even though we are looking forward to returning home, I can’t help but reflect (fondly oddly enough) on what we encountered throughout the course of our two week road trip. We survived a stomach virus while in Paris (poor Rick), heat rash (the sunscreen didn’t agree with me), an infestation of slugs in the tent (okay there were only 8 of them but it felt like an invasion), midnight mariachi bands doing a Spanish rendition of Achy, Breaky Heart (why why why start playing at midnight when everyone is already asleep?), a tumble in a pot hole and a sprained ankle (Rick again), and finally more inconsiderate late night partiers (at a very expensive 30 Euros a night camp site, by the way) and a rude receptionist that shrugged when we asked about their alleged no noise policy the next day (“Hello my friend, give me your money now ef off” was the motto from that stay). Don't get me wrong, it wasn't all about sleepless night, freaks of nature, and dashing to the loo. It was also about climbing up the stairs of the Eiffel Tower and looking out over the city of Paris, driving through the Pyrenees mountains, wine tasting in Chablis, walking the same streets as my son Keaton did in San Sebastian, entering a magnificent Spanish church that was centuries old and having the

breath snatched from my chest.

Just think of the stories we now have to share not only as a result of this recent trip but all the other adventures we have had over the course of our two years here. It is sad at times to think that it is coming to an end but won’t it be fabulous to be with our families and friends again? So much has happened in their lives too and like us they are just as eager to get caught up. And my guess is that our kids will be more self sufficient as a result of our absence and what a great opportunity this has been for them to have grown into adulthood and find their own way. Will they appreciate and value our relationships more, do you think? I am sure all parents ultimately hope for this, don’t they?

Well, I feel as though I should be ending this blog entry with saying something really inspirational or thought provoking but what more is there to say other than I have no regrets, the two years flew by, my family and our house is waiting and they need us and it is time to go home.