HOWe Things Are…

Yesterday, I arrive Manchester airport and am immediately amused how everyone has a British accent. (I was similarly amused with Southern accents before I got used to them living in the South). No problems getting through passport control, luggage arrived, slept reasonably well on the plane… just all puncuated by me forgetting to listen to what people are saying because they talk like people on TV.

At the train station at the airport, the announcer guy again making me think I’m on the set of Harry Potter. Board the train, find my seat and then we proceed on through the Harry Potter set, with people who talk with a variety of accents (the train’s final destination is Edinborough). All from a TV show or movie. Who board and exit with frequency. And also, the train goes through tunnels built to fit the train and potentially a piece of paper between it and the tunnel wall. People with funny accents had what appeared to be a disagreement related to reserved seats and involving a lot of them (because at this point  the train is packed). But I can’t actually tell if it’s a real argument because they all sound horribly polite. And I’m all the while incredibly amused and thinking how I’ve disappointed people who tried to make me culturally sensitive.

The town, Lancaster, has a castle and a cathedral (okay maybe its just a church — ), canals and lots of old stuff, something about Vikings and Romans. They have ridiculously narrow roads (there will be no running on the road here for me) and it all looks like the Disney version of England to me.

Yesterday in my quest to stay awake until 8pm, we went to a bay and then a tea shop (more interaction with people straight out of movie sets). And so far, I’ve discovered, I forgot to switch the setting on the hair dryer to 240 V and this requires a screw driver and using a coin or the flat part of the handle of fingernail clippers does not actually work and may have prevented me from making the hair dryer work here (yet to be seen). Also, my laptop power cord has three prongs. The plug adaptors I brought with me have two. And yesterday’s bay adventure leads me to believe I maybe sad I didn’t bring hiking boots (or some shoes suited for mud).