Now I'm scared

The other day a colleague from Newcastle joined us for the day in the Manchester office. After greetings, the first thing he said was "so I see you're picking up the local accent". OMG!! Already! Well, ok, I knew I was starting to pick up the general lilt of a Manchester sentence (it would never happen when surrounded by Geordies and Scots - they're just too different), but I didn't think anyone but me would notice.

Then, and this prompted a blog so urgent it's delayed me getting to the pub - someone just pointed out that I used the word blimey in a sentence. I didn't believe them, but 3 others around confirmed. What can I say?

Crikey.

Still in Manchester

Turns out I didn't have to go to Oman again after all! Shame, I'd already packed my togs. I've seen a few ads for local gyms with indoor swimming pools, and a bit out of the city there's a big aquatic centre (naturally, remember the Commonwealth Games?), so now I've been thinking swimming thoughts again.

Today's little english quirk? I'm reading the Independent newspaper, and the letters to the editor all start with "Sir: ....." . How very polite! Mind you, I'm not sure that happens, say, in the Sun.



Here's a photo of my little flat :) It's nice and airy, and I really like it. I'm sitting at the glass table eating my couscous for lunch. Normally the laptop sits on top of the bookcase, plugged into the pc speakers for some good music (inluding triple j now my broadband's up and running again), but sometimes we're curled up on the pappazam in the corner watching a movie (me and the laptop I mean!).

I'm slowly becoming more in tune with the local (as in UK/Europe) news, and spend less time on the abc website and more on the bbc. But I've got a bit hooked on the local rag - the Manchester Evening News is quality reading! And it's free. Free MEN proclaim the signs outside the newsagent. So what's a girl to do?

Here's a photo of a building outside my window. Hopefully over the next few blogs I'll sprinkle in a few more Manchester photos.



As someone pointed out to me yesterday, unlike Newcastle, Manchester wasn't quite out of range of that major force for radical architectural change - the Luftwaffe. So there aren't quite as many old buildings (although still a lot), and many modern towers being built to cater for the enormous demand.

They don't do tax returns

I should be working right now, but instead I've been trying to sort out a few financial matters. Like why my pay this month was half last months (tax catching up with me and a loan for my rent). Why my electricity bill for an itty bitty flat in Newcastle was $300 for 3 months when I was away for one of those (or £120, so just yet another one thing that's dollar for pound). Plus all the other people taking money from me!

It's just expensive over here, and that's the truth. I think the tax rates are marginally less, but now I've got to sort out how I can get some of it back. Because they don't do tax returns! Does this mean that there are no deductions allowed? Or is the UK government just really smart, and has worked out that if you don't make people do returns then they won't bother claiming anything? I can put up to £3000 in a special type of bank account and earn 6% tax free interest. There's just so much to work out!

And little time to do it - I think I'm off to Oman again on Friday...

Are you City in Disguise?

It’s finally time to change the title of this blog, because I’m writing this from my new flat in Manchester. I moved in today, and after having 8 different residences in the last 3 months, I’m finally settled into one place for 6 months at least (the duration of my lease).

Tonight I went for a wander around and found I’m living very close to Canal St. Lovely little cobblestone street right on a canal (as the name suggests) and even for such an unobservant person as myself it was pretty obvious that I wasn’t exactly going to fit in there (being a woman). Loads of great little pubs, bars, clubs, restaurants etc – it should be fun.

I’m also right on the edge of Chinatown, so I had a lovely Chinese buffet for dinner with all the broccoli and other veggies I hadn’t been able to find either in Oman or staying the Travelodge here in Manchester while I looked for a flat. Of course, I didn’t just eat broccoli, so now I’m so stuffed I can hardly type.

There were loads of other dinner options, including Japanese, kebabs etc, and a couple of enterprising junk food shops called respectively Krunchy Fried Chicken and McFried Chicken (burgers *and chicken). And I can buy 8 4440 mL cans of XXXX for £5! Brewed at Castlemaine Perkins and all. I still can’t get over that.

And as I was coming home, clearly in celebration of my moving to Manchester, there were fireworks! If not for me, then I’ve no idea why, but they were very welcome. After that I popped into the Village Off Licence (what they call bottlos over here) near Canal Street and found that as well as a small boutique selection of wine, there was all the candy you could want and a tanning salon. Naturally.

Newcastle was a lovely place, but even though my flat here is literally half the size (which is some going, let me tell you) of the one I had there for the same price, I think it’s going to suit me a lot more. Still neutral colours, but in cream rather than grey and that makes all the difference. And with a few flowers and all my stuff strewn around, not so neutral anymore.

I’ve been criticised for my over use of commas, so I’m making an effort tonight to cut a few out.
Still only half unpacked, so that’s it for my first Manchester blog. For all those who earnestly begged me not to become a Man U supporter when I got here – I hope the title reassures you.