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.
