UK Diary Part 6: The South
Day 36
After a long night in Bude, we checked out. As we had 2 hours to kill until the bus - bus 6 only runs twice a day on bank holidays! - and it was pouring, we hid in Costa Coffee. It was our first time trying Costa and god! It was so bad! Our toasties were made of some weird plasticine-type bread. Nothing to say about their drinks - all of the cafes we've tried here were underwhelming. By the way, restaurants in Bude do not serve vegetables or salads.
Feeling unhappy that my 5 a day needs were nowhere near met, we caught the 6 and were put to sleep by its rocking motion. Got to Okehampton station, got on the train, and within 45 minutes we were back in Exeter St David's Premier Inn. We got Chinese takeaway which was bad by normal standards but good by British food standards.
Day 37
Today is a day I would like to write off. We were to travel from Exeter to Maidstone, you see, which is a 5-hour journey with a change at London Waterloo.
I completely fucked it up by not buying a meal deal at the train station because the dry sponge-looking sandwiches "didn't appeal". I was confident that the train trolley would offer better food - oh! How wrong I was! There wasn't even a trolley service from Exeter to London on the Southwestern. Why would any company pass up the chance to hawk overpriced Yorkie bars to flush Exeter students?
Anyway, I was forced to eat dry Aspen to not starve. To be honest I should probably benefit from a bit of starvation as I've been gaining weight from the high fat (yet low taste?) diet here.
Got to Maidstone in one piece and are nicely settled in; our hosts are lovely, and we had a very nice Taco Tuesday meal. Alas... there were no carbohydrates - no, taco shells don't count. I found myself unwillingly eating Aspen for the second time today, this time at the kitchen sink while our hosts were asleep.
I do not think I ever want to eat Aspen again.
Day 38 & 39
Blissed out. Nothing much has been going on and these couple of days have been blending into one another. There is nothing to do apart from playing with and feeding our feline charges Tiko and Ella:
Buying pick & mix Lindor...
It is so relaxing to stay in a proper house. My favourite part is the conservatory, though when it's too hot I like to flop in the lounge.
When we are able to tear ourselves from the kittens we have been going out for extremely prosaic and non-touristy things like: eating Nepalese food...
Buying pick & mix Lindor...
Eating Nando's and McDDonald's...
Buying books...
Going to toy shops...
Day 40
Play with cats...
Eat...
Cook...
Eat some more...
Watch BBC iPlayer...
Read Stewart Lee's book...
Change cat litter...
Nap...
The housesits have been the best bits of the trip so far. It's true that housesits aren't usually smack in the city centre "a stone's throw" from all the attractions, but the experience of everyday life more than makes up for it. We have enjoyed some illuminating bus rides, eaten at working class greasy spoons, seen the widest variety of ducks and geese in our lifetimes, enjoyed unplanned walks, and shopped at every supermarket along the class chain from Lidl to M&S. We have learnt so much about British housing layouts, bin systems, door mechanisms, types of heaters, as well as dishwashing and housekeeping protocols.
Maybe all of this isn't particularly interesting to other tourists, I don't know, but we information magpies like to collect such bits of cultural miscellany.
Day 41
41 days in the UK, 18 more to go. Amongst other things, this trip has made me think about the sweet spot w.r.t. travel length. 2 months is definitely too long to be away. I'd say 3 weeks to 1 month is probably better.
Today Jon left for London to meet up with friends, leaving me to spend the night alone. I don't think I've spent the night without him for almost 5 years! Reservist doesn't count because I'm home and have home ground advantage, not to mention all our pets. Now I'm in a strange house in a strange land. It's good practice.
As the railway workers were all on strike Jon (and lots of people) took the National Express. Finally got to find out what the Divine Comedy song was all about.
I came home, made and ate lunch, did a bunch of housework, played with the cats, and then went out for a walk.
Kent is wealthy. You can tell from the tree-lined streets and general cleanliness. There are very respectable-looking houses. Some belong to twats. These you can tell because they have names like "The Croft" or "Holt House" and the yards are filled with multiple expensive cars. I feel like most people here are Tories, even the immigrant brown families.
Political leanings notwithstanding, life in the moneyed, leafy suburbs is slow and beautiful. No burglar alarms - you don't even need to lock the door. Cats roam freely in their and others' backyards. People take their dogs on 3-hour walks. People wear nothing but thick houserobes and fluffy slippers when they drive over to collect their takeaway fish and chips. I particularly like the houses where the gardens have gone to seed and the driveway is full of defunct classic cars.
I had a big scare when I got back. The cats were nowhere to be found!!! I searched every corner and cupboard I could find and went to the next door neighbour to ask if she's seen them. After an hour in a near-meltdown state I saw Tiko's monkey face in the backyard. A moment later Ella appeared. PHEW.
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