We had promised ourselves a hike this weekend in the Yorkshire Wolds - but Nel was (is!) still pretty sick with this bug that seems to be spreading like wildfire round Britain ( see also Cristiana, Will, Jane, Christine, my little brother Richard). Even the local pharmacist, with his plethora of remedies has succumbed. I found this out as he coughed and spluttered his way through an explanation of how the virus is spread, as he was handing over the soluble Paracetomol I was purchasing from his very boutique.
So we decided to visit Beverley - a small market town 10 miles north of Hull. This way, we'd have a day out, but not too taxing. Also there is a sizeable proportion of staff at University of Hull live in Beverley so checking out real estate as well. I heard the first non-English accents I've heard (since coming here) in a cafe.
If I may digress for a second... I was going to describe the above cafe as 'nice'. However, the English (particularly among Brits) overuse the word 'nice' in a similair-but-opposite fashion to North Americans over-use of 'awesome'. For example, someone delivering a Tim Hortons to your desk is not always 'awesome'. The Grand Canyon probably is, and I know, from personal experience, that getting attacked by a black bear is, but a Tim Horton's coffee? Conversely, I've heard an English person describe the aurora borealis as 'nice'. With no exclamation mark.
So, to continue, the cafe was not 'nice', it was awesome. The interesting thing about hearing these non-English people speak English (with a Swedish or Norwegian accent) was that I understood what they were saying better than I currently understand the locals.
Wrapping up, Beverley is very n....ear and picturesque. Our photos do'nt really do it justice. Consider it as a place to live? Definitely on the list of possibles? Maybe in the future. It has one serious drawback, which is that it is a hub of full-on folk music. We (I) had a truly, truly great pint in the Monks pub (see album) slightly flattened by the cacophony emerging from the back room of geography teachers from Hull singing folk songs about how great it is to be a Cornish miner, in false Lancishire accents. For those of you who may not have the necessary background (accent wise) to appreciate how truly distressing this is, just imagine Celine Dion singing Barratt's Privateers in a fake Newfie accent.
Other news quickly is that Nel's started work, and is enjoying her second day thoroughly after a good breakfast. I'm applying for jobs - there's a great drive here to train tradespeople and there are several local colleges where training is offered to kids. Many of the training posts are sessional, needing no formal teaching quals, with further career training (to the tutors) offered, so I've applied for a few jobs there - a very exciting possibility.