Hmm.. maybe I'm overselling it a bit? Nah..
Come next Tuesday I have been working at Sitewizard exactly three months, which means it's been exactly three months and one week since we took a bag each and moved to England. Or departure has been called "brave and courageous" by some, "pretty 'effin stupid' by others (I'm the one who called it "pretty 'effin stupid" once).
What have I (or the collective We) learned so far?
Well for starters, people who move abroad seem to be under the delusion that everything will be so different and strange, and whilst that is true in some cases (and probably more so if one moves to a less developed country) for the most part, it's simply a matter of finding that particular shop that stocks whatever weird thing that you eat regularly that isn't as common in your new country. Case in point — you're going to love this one Beije — Lonkero, the most popular alcoholic beverage in Finland (feel free to look it up if you don't believe me) isn't readily available elsewhere. And obviously the bartender hasn't heard of it — why would he? — so he can't mix something up. One quick google search later we had a recipe thanks to Fred Fry and his blog, lo and behold;
- A shot of Gin
- Grapefruit Soda
- Top of with a splash of Tonic Water (Optional)
We actually tried it with two shots of Gin (just like Fred, don't!). But felt the Gin came through too strongly. And the pub we were at didn't have Grapefruit Soda, so we substituted it with Elderflower, which worked surprisingly well. We also added a splash on regular soda water to take the edge of it. So yeah, not really following the recipe at all, but "Hey", when in Rome.. (or something of equivalent explanatory level).
Either way.. there you go, "Lonkero".. or Tentacle if you will, which is the literal translation and also the name I am going to start calling it. "One Tenctacle, please.."
So yeah, you can pretty much find anything here too, Crisp bread being the only exception so far. I have not been able to find that.. then again.. I haven't been looking that thoroughly either.
So, why the title "Living In Alan, With Alan"? Yeah funny story — assuming you have bad sense of humour — the house we live in is called Rupert Alan House.. and our former next door neighbour's name is Alan. So there you go, though as I write it and check for spelling and/or grammatical error I am struck by the sudden realization that it isn't nearly as funny as it was in my mind. Oh well, can't win them all. Obviously I used "with" in a very loose sense, though we do have some of his furniture which should count for something.
Fine. Here's a picture tour of our humble abode, with captions to boot. I will try to make a video tour as well. But that's going to have to wait to another day (so realistically you should expect to see it by the end of this year).
|The entrance that no one can ever find.|
|The house and the communal yard.|
|Take a left to our door, or a right if you're visiting someone else. Obviously.|
|Master Bedroom/Dining Room/Living Room/Office/Kitchen.|
|"Free" apothecary we took the liberty of liberating from its previous owner.|
|The Kitchen -part of the Multi-Purpose Room.|
|The offspring gets his own room.|
|He's also the only one with a TV.|