Well, who would have thought, I made it to High Wycombe! After an exhausting trip that took longer than it should have I have now settled in to my new room. As I currently do not have access to internet I don’t know when this will be posted but read as if it was written Wednesday the 17th of January at 15:00 (UK time).
Getting to the ferry Tuesday night was easier than I had expected, I didn’t have to turn around anywhere and got straight to the right place. When I arrived I still had to wait before I could check in but because of all the rain I spent that time in the car. By the time I had gotten the car on board of the ship I had probably already spent close to 1.5 hours in that general area (moving from check in line, to customs line, to line waiting for the trucks to get on the ship). Tired, I went to my cabin and debated on whether or not to get a beer or not. So I went to get a beer. It seemed there were only truckers on the ship, and they obviously knew their way around it already and then there was me, turning the ship upside down, not knowing where to go. I came across someone who looked like staff and asked where I could get a beer, I think the answer was in English but I didn’t understand a single word of it, so I was happy there were a lot of hand gestures accompanying the explanation. So I had my beer and then it was really time to get to bed.
At 5:30 (UK Time) the soothing voice of an obviously overweight captain woke me up by announcing on the speaker system that breakfast was available. So I got up, had a shower and went to get breakfast. Breakfast was big slices of finely cooked bacon, mushrooms, beans, and scrambled eggs. This all accompanied by a refreshing glass of orange juice. In a record time of 5 minutes this breakfast had ended up in my stomach and with a cup of coffee I looked over the road map again to make sure I knew where to go. By now it was 6:30 and the soothing voice had returned to announce that all car passengers where to go to the decks where they were parked and exit the ship. I willingly complied as the wave movement had started playing tricks with the breakfast I had.
Driving on the left side of the road came more natural than I would have expected. Finding directions didn’t… I only had a vague idea of where I was going as it was still dark outside and the British don’t seem to be fond of street lights. The road signs didn’t really help much as they only had names of towns on there that I think most of the British people haven’t heard of before. All well though I got on the highway I was supposed to and drove. Now came the tricky part. Roundabouts. They are really hard to spot and once you get on one it’s every man for himself and good luck. The way we know them in Holland is probably the upgraded version of the ones they have here, and if there is a system to it, please leave a comment explaining it as I have yet to figure it out.
While on the highway the combination of pouring rain, poorly lit streets and roundabouts that consisted of three roundabouts put together, put me in the complete wrong direction. I was now on the highway to Cambridge, which is North of London while I had to be West of London. The road signs didn’t want to list more than 3 towns ahead so it took me a while to figure out as well. I decided to stop at a gas station to stretch my legs and look over the map once more. Getting to a gas station was another mission by itself, you have to exit the highway, fight your way through another four “roundabouts”, take a side road, and then you’re there… By now I had seen that I was way off target and to make things worse there was no connection between the highway I was on and the one I had to be on, this meant that I had to go all the way back again, so much for my navigation skills.
Three roundabouts, 50 miles, and 2 hours later I was stuck in traffic on the M25 which was the road I had to be on. By now it was around 9:30, meaning that I had spent three hours already driving to a place that the Google Navigator said would only take 2 hours… and I was still 60 miles off. All well I continued through the still pouring rain and traffic and arrived in High Wycombe an hour or so later, but that didn’t mean I was at my new house already. Along with streets lights, the British don’t seem to be fond of signs with street names either. Spending almost another 45 minutes driving through High Wycombe, only by chance did I see a house that had a sign Wick Cottage on it, which was exactly where I had to be.
The house looked like most of the other houses in the area and was probably build in the early 1920’s. Maintaining the outside of houses doesn’t seem to be a priority here as most have things growing on them and look poor. Little did I know what to expect inside the house. After greeting the landlord he showed me around the first floor of the house which I share with another exchange student whom I’ve yet to meet. My guess was that the house was probably built around 1920, and judging the interior of it, it could have been before that time. I’ll list a bunch of pictures so you can see how nicely decorated the house is and make your own judgment.
Where to begin? The smell of the house, my room included, can be compared to an attic that hasn’t been opened in 30 years. It is this smell that you’ll find in places that aren’t cleaned very well or in the houses of older people. It is hard to put into words but once you smell it you’ll know exactly what I mean. The heating system of the house is tank boiler with two radiators strategically placed away from where anyone would come. My room is currently being heated by a mobile barbeque, it is nice and warm and definitely needed, but the simplicity of it all bedazzles me. The landlord told me that there was a better heater in the room, but it had broken. It turned out to be the yellow stained machine ironically placed in what looks like a fireplace. The furniture that is here is nice and quaint, except for the bed which with its steel bars stands out between all the wood. Before I started unpacking I had this urging need to vacuum the room first. I thought that my old room in Holland was poorly kept, but it was nothing compared to what I found here. Everything was covered in a layer of dust nearly big enough to see a height difference once removed. So the next hour or so I spent cleaning and unpacking.
In the end I like the room, it is big, roomy and hopefully soon not as smelly. I haven’t met the other tenant yet, but I think it will be fine. At least I feel a little bit at home already with my senseo (first thing that as unpacked and installed). I’m off to the shop now as I don’t have any food with me, and I will keep you all posted!
Pictures!:
Getting to the ferry Tuesday night was easier than I had expected, I didn’t have to turn around anywhere and got straight to the right place. When I arrived I still had to wait before I could check in but because of all the rain I spent that time in the car. By the time I had gotten the car on board of the ship I had probably already spent close to 1.5 hours in that general area (moving from check in line, to customs line, to line waiting for the trucks to get on the ship). Tired, I went to my cabin and debated on whether or not to get a beer or not. So I went to get a beer. It seemed there were only truckers on the ship, and they obviously knew their way around it already and then there was me, turning the ship upside down, not knowing where to go. I came across someone who looked like staff and asked where I could get a beer, I think the answer was in English but I didn’t understand a single word of it, so I was happy there were a lot of hand gestures accompanying the explanation. So I had my beer and then it was really time to get to bed.
At 5:30 (UK Time) the soothing voice of an obviously overweight captain woke me up by announcing on the speaker system that breakfast was available. So I got up, had a shower and went to get breakfast. Breakfast was big slices of finely cooked bacon, mushrooms, beans, and scrambled eggs. This all accompanied by a refreshing glass of orange juice. In a record time of 5 minutes this breakfast had ended up in my stomach and with a cup of coffee I looked over the road map again to make sure I knew where to go. By now it was 6:30 and the soothing voice had returned to announce that all car passengers where to go to the decks where they were parked and exit the ship. I willingly complied as the wave movement had started playing tricks with the breakfast I had.
Driving on the left side of the road came more natural than I would have expected. Finding directions didn’t… I only had a vague idea of where I was going as it was still dark outside and the British don’t seem to be fond of street lights. The road signs didn’t really help much as they only had names of towns on there that I think most of the British people haven’t heard of before. All well though I got on the highway I was supposed to and drove. Now came the tricky part. Roundabouts. They are really hard to spot and once you get on one it’s every man for himself and good luck. The way we know them in Holland is probably the upgraded version of the ones they have here, and if there is a system to it, please leave a comment explaining it as I have yet to figure it out.
While on the highway the combination of pouring rain, poorly lit streets and roundabouts that consisted of three roundabouts put together, put me in the complete wrong direction. I was now on the highway to Cambridge, which is North of London while I had to be West of London. The road signs didn’t want to list more than 3 towns ahead so it took me a while to figure out as well. I decided to stop at a gas station to stretch my legs and look over the map once more. Getting to a gas station was another mission by itself, you have to exit the highway, fight your way through another four “roundabouts”, take a side road, and then you’re there… By now I had seen that I was way off target and to make things worse there was no connection between the highway I was on and the one I had to be on, this meant that I had to go all the way back again, so much for my navigation skills.
Three roundabouts, 50 miles, and 2 hours later I was stuck in traffic on the M25 which was the road I had to be on. By now it was around 9:30, meaning that I had spent three hours already driving to a place that the Google Navigator said would only take 2 hours… and I was still 60 miles off. All well I continued through the still pouring rain and traffic and arrived in High Wycombe an hour or so later, but that didn’t mean I was at my new house already. Along with streets lights, the British don’t seem to be fond of signs with street names either. Spending almost another 45 minutes driving through High Wycombe, only by chance did I see a house that had a sign Wick Cottage on it, which was exactly where I had to be.
The house looked like most of the other houses in the area and was probably build in the early 1920’s. Maintaining the outside of houses doesn’t seem to be a priority here as most have things growing on them and look poor. Little did I know what to expect inside the house. After greeting the landlord he showed me around the first floor of the house which I share with another exchange student whom I’ve yet to meet. My guess was that the house was probably built around 1920, and judging the interior of it, it could have been before that time. I’ll list a bunch of pictures so you can see how nicely decorated the house is and make your own judgment.
Where to begin? The smell of the house, my room included, can be compared to an attic that hasn’t been opened in 30 years. It is this smell that you’ll find in places that aren’t cleaned very well or in the houses of older people. It is hard to put into words but once you smell it you’ll know exactly what I mean. The heating system of the house is tank boiler with two radiators strategically placed away from where anyone would come. My room is currently being heated by a mobile barbeque, it is nice and warm and definitely needed, but the simplicity of it all bedazzles me. The landlord told me that there was a better heater in the room, but it had broken. It turned out to be the yellow stained machine ironically placed in what looks like a fireplace. The furniture that is here is nice and quaint, except for the bed which with its steel bars stands out between all the wood. Before I started unpacking I had this urging need to vacuum the room first. I thought that my old room in Holland was poorly kept, but it was nothing compared to what I found here. Everything was covered in a layer of dust nearly big enough to see a height difference once removed. So the next hour or so I spent cleaning and unpacking.
In the end I like the room, it is big, roomy and hopefully soon not as smelly. I haven’t met the other tenant yet, but I think it will be fine. At least I feel a little bit at home already with my senseo (first thing that as unpacked and installed). I’m off to the shop now as I don’t have any food with me, and I will keep you all posted!
Pictures!:
(In line for the ferry... this is the second line out of the three)
(My cabin!)
(Room part one, desk, I am currently sitting on that chair)
(Heater that doesn't work, and heater that does work... this is the only way of heating in my entire room!)
(My bed with a view of the garden)
(You guessed it! ...that's my room as well)
(My sofa!)
(Can you feel the heat? I can't)
(Main hall, the red thing is the outside door, to the right is my room door and the door to the left goes to the bathroom)
(The kitchen!)
(The kitchen heater! it saves refridgerator costs I guess...)
This post was created under the influence of A.F.I.’s 2003 Sing The Sorrow.
2 comments:
Oh common, your room is like a 5-star luxury hotel compared to mine. I get the same smell, nasty moist clothes and less space! And i definitely do not have a couch or a heater at all so stop whining!
If I had a heater like that in my room we'd have a couple of people over and make some satay on the barbeque and have a couple of really really expensive beers. You are in a better place my man!
Exactly, these are the detailed story's we all like. Keep on the good work, and keep driving at the left side. And have you seen "me's blog" ?? I really think you're in a better place. No strange huge insects, a natural cooling, and no beach along one of the most busy and dirtiest waterway's of the world. Brittannia Rules !!
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