Hello, Internet! Welcome back to my humble corner of the virtual world.
I’ve finally found some time to sit and reflect on my very, very, busy start to the New Year. As you may know, my 2018 started off with a bang – and an announcement that the pilot had to restart the plane. That’s right, folks, I’ve made it to the illustrious United Kingdom. Let’s start from the beginning, shall we?
At about 7am on Wednesday, January 10th, I took a one way flight from Cork Airport to Birmingham. You know how most people tend to grow out of things as they grow older? Like being afraid of the dark, acne, and Hannah Montana. Well, I think I grew in to being a nervous flyer. I always loved flying as a child – my family and I used to fly once a year when I was growing up. Nothing too far, mainly Spain and Portugal, but I was never a bad traveller. When I was 12, Mom and I flew to Florida, too. Nine hours, that one was. Our seats ended up being double booked, so we got bumped up to first class on the way over. It’s was awesome. I digress, yet again.
Maybe it’s the lack of control, the absurdity of Man travelling carefree at such impossible heights, or those few episodes of Grey’s Anatomy that have scarred me for life. It’s so strange. I’m fine in the airport. I even have a little tradition of getting a white hot chocolate from the AMT Coffee stall at stupid o’clock in the morning. Even by the time I’m sitting on the plane, safely buckled in my seat, I’m fine. The hosts and hostesses are struggling to pull dummy life vests over their heads, and I’m fine. The captain starts driving the plane around the runway, and I’m fine.
Then the engines roar and we start hurtling down the runway at lightning speed and I’m convinced I’m about to die. This is it, I think, I’m going out in a ball of flames. To be fair, I could think of worse ways to go. I imagine it’d be quite quick and relatively painless? Hopefully I’ll never find out. That doesn’t stop me contemplating it while the captain is pulling on his (what I imagine to be) glorified handlebar, pulling the nose of the plane up in to the air.
Then you get that awful feeling in the pit of your stomach and you’re pushed back in to your seat a bit. Not long after that, the hostess is smiling at me and offering me a hot beverage. Bitch, I’m gonna need a fuckin’ priest in a minute. I shake my head and give her a half-smile back, and release my vice grip on the arm rest of my seat.
Despite my almost near death experiences, which were bog standard take off and landing, after an hour or so I’m standing in a shuttle bus being moved to the arrivals area of Birmingham airport. I collect my 2 giant suitcases, which contain most of my worldly possessions, and make my way towards the exit. Here, I reunite with my new roommate, and we start the second leg of my journey to our new home. Here’s what Cork city looks like before dawn when you’re hurtling thought the air at silly miles per hour. Or kilometres, whatever.
Two trains and a mini-van taxi later, and we arrive at the entrance to our little…apartment block complex thing. I have no idea how to describe it. Six apartments per building, but there’s several buildings, if that makes sense. Anyway, we’re somewhere in the middle, which means it wasn’t too much of a trek with the cases, and it’s relatively safe and private. The fact that we’re on the top floor was a bit of an ordeal with my cases, though. I can’t complain too much, however, as Luke had to move sofas and wardrobes up these stairs a few days prior to my arrival.
The apartment we’re renting isn’t too far the city centre – maybe a 10 minute walk, which is nice. It’s incredibly quiet. Seriously, I thought we were the only inhabitants of the building for at least 2 weeks. I haven’t heard a peep from the neighbours below or beside us. Win. It’s a 2 bedroom apartment, with a separate bathroom, living room, kitchen, and linen closet. It’s not that small, actually. I was a bit worried that we may feel like we’re living on top of each other all the time, but that hasn’t been a problem so far. We’ve turned the second bedroom into a bit of an office – Luke’s PC is in there, as well as a newly purchased sofa bed from Argos, just in case any of my friends or family decide to come visit me at some stage. I mean, I don’t have any spare bed linen, so don’t start booking your flights just yet.
I do have to say a massive thank you to Luke’s dad, his dad’s girlfriend, his grandfather, and one of his mates. We’ve hardly had to buy any furniture, despite this apartment coming unfurnished, thanks to his dad. We got seriously lucky – he’s let us borrow a sofa, armchair, TV, and some other stuff that I’m probably forgetting. They all also played Taxi for us, collecting furniture and whatnot, and also helped carry everything up the stairs, too. I’ll even turn a blind eye to the chunks missing out of one of wardrobes thanks to someone dropping it on a road. All jokes aside, we’re both incredibly grateful. Thanks. ❤
As for the area itself, I haven’t really had the chance to explore Derby too much. I’m hoping to visit some cafes, parks, and play tourist for a few days, but I’m not too sure where to start. I’ve gotten some recommendations from some of my new co-workers, so I’ll make sure to take you along for the ride when I get some free time. I hear there’s a cat cafe not too far from where I life, so that’s a must. There’s also a few escape rooms I’m dying to try out, but I sort of need friends for that. I’ll just hijack Luke’s friends, it’ll be fine.
Speaking of co-workers, I started my new position in my new store on the 15th of last month. I’m about to wrap up my fourth week, and to be honest, I’m kind of loving it. It’s a completely different atmosphere from my last place of work, which is a bit strange considering I still work for the same company. I’m the fourth youngest member of staff, which I was a bit anxious about, but you’d hardly notice. Everyone, so far, seems to have welcomed me with open arms, and for that I’m so thankful. I’ve started a new, sort of intimidating, role that I thought I was nowhere near ready for, but it’s going so well. I know it’s very early days yet, and there’s a lot of work ahead of me, but I don’t mind doing it. The hours are long, but most of that is my own fault. I’ve been doing a fair amount of overtime (unpaid, of course), but sometimes that just has to be done. I do feel a bit guilty, though, because I’ve finally moved in with my other half after all these years, and I’m spending my days in a store. He doesn’t seem to mind, though, as long as we curl up on the sofa to watch some Brooklyn 99 before I inevitably fall asleep. That’s a great show, by the way, you should check it out if you haven’t already.
As for how I’m settling in, I don’t think I’m doing too badly. I haven’t been too homesick yet, but I’ll be doing a separate post to deal with that issue in the near future. I haven’t been out on the town yet, but I do plan on finding a local in the near future, as well as a reputable Irish bar in case I need to drown my sorrows and feel a little closer to home. For now, I’m doing pretty ok.
I’m hoping service will resume as normal now that I’ve settled in to somewhat of a routine here, but you never know with me. All going well, I should be posting every Monday at the very least, with a Thursday post whenever I have something extra to share with the world. It’s a work in progress, we’ll figure it out. Like most things in my life right now, I’m winging it.
Happy Friday, have a great weekend. See you Monday, folks.
~ Claire x
Critically Claire 