Looks can be deceiving...
Yesterday afternoon the sun was shining, so I decided to go for a nice walk in the fresh air. Bad idea. The sun may have been shining, but it was -8, with a wind chill of about -15. That, believe me, is cold. It was so cold after I'd gone about 12ft my face hurt. I battled on, determined to get a dose of fresh air. I made it round the block once before I scurried back into my room and hugged my little electric heater. That's the coldest I've experienced yet - but thankfully my new coat, which pretends to be a sleeping bag, arrived a couple of days ago. The bits it covers feel toasty warm. My face, however, will need another plan of attack!
This evening it's a bit warmer and the snow is falling. I don't know if it's because we don't get much snow back home but it still has a magical quality to it - especially when it's falling at night. It's coming down quite steadily and I reckon we could have maybe 6-8 inches by the morning. Just looked out the window - we're gonna have more than that!
Tomorrow is work hard day. I've got an essay to write and loads of notes to tidy up. My first midterm is on 1st Feb (Chemistry), then 8th Feb (Maths), 10th Feb (English) and finally 15th Feb (Physics). Thankfully Physics is last as this is the one subject I'm having a few issues with at the moment! My poor student tutor is pulling her hair out! With all the subjects I just have to keep my brain in gear and not panic under time constraints. At the moment if I have a time limit my brain freezes! I've been practising time limited questions and slowly I'm getting better at them! I just have to pass...
What a difference a day makes
It started snowing last night and this afternoon I took some more piccies. Quite a difference!
The view from my bedroom window - yup, it's the car park!
Same view from over the bridge, but with snow! You can't see it too well in this picture but there are actually lumps of ice floating down the river!
Not a pretty picture, it's of a bunch of electricity pylons but I thought it demonstrated the snow quite well...
The definition of cold
When I went out earlier today I thought it was bloody cold. When I returned back to residence I remarked as such to one of my roommates. "Oh no," said she "this isn't cold! Trust me, you'll know when it's really cold."
I'm starting to worry now. If your face half freezing and your nose sealing itself up in an act of protection, isn't cold...then what is?
It's snowing outside now so I wonder what it's going to look like in the morning. Difference here is that it's below freezing so the snow settles - unlike the UK where is lands, whimpers and melts away. The snow here is very butch.
One minus point has come to my attention. My hands are suffering badly in the cold. Excuse the graphic description but basically I have cracked and bleeding knuckles. I currently look like I've gone 10 rounds in a bare knuckle fight. Various creams have been applied, but they is looking ugly. I may resort to a 24hr soak in moisturiser at this rate!
So, what does it look like here?
A few pictures from around the campus and "town" of Truro. Don't let the lack of snow fool you - it's really cold!
Farm - distant view of the farm buildings. Lambing season is coming up and the pre-vet club go down to help, hopefully I should get a chance to do this. I've heard that it's extremely popular though!
Cummings Hall - the main admin building, where I had to pay my fees :o( This is also the place where graduation (eventually) takes place.
Cox Building - this is the place where I have all my lessons. It's like a rabbit warren on the inside and I've got lost on a number of occasions.
Where's Arnie?! Some will understand this reference...others won't! For those that don't, it's a water tower. Exciting, eh! For those that do - many a long hour on the journey from North Carolina to Florida was interrupted by the yell!
Bridge from Bible Hill to Truro - the view from the bridge I have to cross over whenever I want some food! You can just about see the residence halls up on the hill in the distance.
Random fire hydrant - more exciting pictures.
Bible Hill - The bridge sign marking the town boundary...
View behind residence - the town of Truro as seen from residence.
View behind residence II - more views of Truro
View behind residence III - final view of Truro.
New lodgings
Hmm - apologies but the formatting on the last post seems to have gone a bit weird. I've tried to fix it, but can't. The post is too long to re-type so you're just going to have to muddle through it (you being all the thousands of enthralled readers of this blog :| )
In the meantime, here are some lovely pictures of my new room. It's teeeeeny! The desk is where I sit as I type this and also where I'll be doing all my wonderful homework. Aren't the curtains just beautiful?
Currently the radiator in my room is broken and I've got a little two-bar electric heater. Ah, just like home!
I plan to take some pictures around campus tomorrow and put them up here. I'll also write a bit more about my first few days over here. Contain your excitement now...;o)
Journey to Canada
So here I am in Nova Scotia. Is it cold? Oh my good grief, yes it is! Bodily it’s not too bad at all – but it really gets to your face! It’s not the same as cold back in the UK though, which is a bit weird. It’s not at all damp in any way, but it’s not exactly crisp either. However, all stores and restaurants crank their heating up to max so when you walk in looking like the Michelin man you start to roast immediately. Cue the newly termed “disrobing dance”. I tend to hop about on the spot trying to get my outer coat off, generally getting caught up in the process – resulting in a dramatic spinning round on the spot in a vain attempt to get my arms free. Such effort for a simple cup of tea and chocolate chip muffin. Mind you, for the muffins sold at a place called Tim Hortons the effort is most definitely worth it. They are…wonderful. I have a feeling that many a study break will be spent running down the road to the local branch and stocking up on the little beauties. A definite weakness.
I’m sat waiting in my hotel at the moment waiting for my taxi to take me up to Truro from Halifax. Most locals tried to persuade me to take the bus, but when they then saw my four bags (two huge, two not so huge) they agreed with my taxi plan. Hey, 10 years into 4 bags ain’t bad! It’s really rather relaxing sitting in the reception area, as a hoover blasts along the mezzanine level behind me…not.
The initial journey here wasn’t quite so relaxing…
It technically started at about 2am on the morning of 1st January 2006. Whilst sitting in my friend’s parent’s house we all looked at the clock and one of my friends suggested that perhaps I should think about getting some sleep, seeing as I had to make my way home at 6am to finish off my packing. My flight was at 11:40am. Good plan, thought I. My bed that evening was some sofa cushions scattered on the floor – it was actually darn comfy and as soon as my head touched the pillow I was out like a light. All too soon my alarm was beeping me awake at 6am. I sat for a few moments realising that it would be quite sometime before I would be spending any time in that particular house. A strange feeling.
However, time was tight. I gathered up my things and wandered outside in the still dark morning. I looked across round the back of the house and, I kid you not, saw a beautiful sunrise. Not a bad way to start my journey. Once I arrived home I was greeted by my mum sitting at the kitchen table looking a little bleary eyed – but up and ready none the less to whisk me off to the airport!
Everything was going perfectly. I’d stuffed the last of my belongings into my cases. One of which I had purchased just days before for a bargain £35 in Edinburgh. All the cases were lined up by the door and we were ready to start packing up the car. Then, disaster. My lovely new case had split! Let me stress that this was an expanding case, and it was by no means over packed! I ran up to the loft and grabbed one of my old bags. However, all my other bags were smaller than the one that had now split open. I was going to have to do an emergency re-pack.
Items of clothing, notepads and chocolate (hey, it’s my emergency supply) were now strewn across the sitting room. Two hastily made piles were put together. One contains essentials, one not. Nothing in the non-essentials pile made it into the new bag. Everything in the essentials did. Success.
Time had ticked by and there was no chance that we were going to be able to drop my car off at its new home. Swift phone calls were made and apologies blurted. Sadly it also meant I wouldn’t be able to see my cats for a final time before I went. However, two nights before I’d seen them and given them each an extra scratch behind the ear ;o)
The car was packed and we were off! I was grumpy and stressed and the start of the journey was quiet, but I slowly became more relaxed and calmed down. The roads were totally empty and we made record time to Gatwick.
Once parked we located a trolley and loaded up all my bags and went off in search of the Zoom check in desk. Being a budget airline they only had two check-in counters! One was for premium economy, which thankfully I had upgraded too. I stood in the queue with mum and we both read the ominous sign at the same time. “Maximum baggage allowance 30kg, excess charges will apply. Hand baggage maximum 5kg, no allowances – staff may ask you to re-pack items.” Oh crikey…
The moment arrived and we walked up to the desk. “Hello,” said the lady “Do you have any hand baggage?”
“Yup.” says I (as I attempt to lightly lift it up to show her, sadly I broke into a sweat)
“Right, can you please put it on the scales for me?”
“No problem,” I breeze as I delicately place it on the evil weighing scales.
18.1kg. My hand luggage weighs 18.1kg. I smile weekly at the lady.
“That’s your hand luggage?!” she enquires.
“Uh huh…”
“Ok, let’s take a look at your other items and see if they come in below 30kg”
Nervously I put the first bag on the counter.
22kg.
“And the next one please.” She smirks
25kg
I’m sweating even more now.
“You appear to have 65kg of luggage madam. Your limit is a total of 35kg, 5 of which is designated to the cabin.”
“Ah, well you see I’m going to University. I’m leaving the country.” I smile my bestest ever smile when I say this. Mum stands beside me nodding and smiling too. I may even have fluttered my eyelashes.
“Ok, here’s what I can do. I’ll charge you for 20kg excess baggage but you’re going to need to go and buy another bag and transfer what you want in the cabin into that…and it must be below 5kg. Then we’ll check in your other bag into the hold.
“Thank you, a thousand times” I say.
Off we run to pay for the excess baggage. One hundred pounds lighter we then go off in search of a bag shop. Funnily enough we find one called “Excess baggage”. Cheeky. I see the bag I want immediately and part with 15 quid. There follows a ridiculous re-packing of important items, laptop being the main one. We run back to the check in desk and I deftly place the new bag on the scales.
8.5kg. Damn it!
I take out my pencil case.
8kg. Agh!
I take out my wash bag
5.8kg. You’re kidding me!
I take the battery pack off my portable DVD player
5.1kg. Ah ha! The check-in lady nods and allows it through. Phew.
We then go round the corner and I put everything I just took out back into the bag. Stoopid system.
Time is running out but we stop for a hot chocolate where I promptly burst into tears. All the stress of the past few days finally makes me cave.
It’s time to go. We wander down to the passport check bit before the departure gates with me sniffling away. There’s a massive queue so mum stands with me while we make our way forward. At the bit where she has to leave me we have a huge hug and I snivel some more and she sheds a few tears. She says “This is the biggest thing you’ve ever done.” I cry some more. I might even be sniffling a bit as I write this.
There then follows a truly hilarious situation. I bravely wave mum goodbye and make my way forward, only to find myself in one of those windy queuing systems, like you get at the post office. So mum is standing there trying to wave me off and I keep re-appearing…each time a little further away, but still on the same side of the damn barrier! It certainly lightened the moment somewhat.
Finally I get to the passport bit and turn to wave bye to mum. Then I’m through.
I obviously look highly suspicious as I get pulled through the metal detector and given the thorough frisk. I hadn’t even set off the beeper machine so I’m a little wary of the security lady. She spends a lot of time fiddling with my boots and I’m tempted use one of them on her as my flight is being called…
Satisfied that I’m not a nutcase I’m let through and I realise I’m going to have to run to my gate. Of course my gate is miles away. Wonderful. Strangely my new boots seem to have inbuilt springs in them and I sort of bounced my way along the ground making good speed. I did scare a little old lady on the moving floor type things as I yelled “Scuse me!” and dashed past her.
I make it in time and within moments the place is being boarded. The upgrade to premium economy was worth it as there was loads more leg room and less people in the cabin.
The flight was fairly unadventurous but I did notice a new high-tech security measure in place on the plane. It goes by the name of “curtain”. If the curtain was drawn across to the front galley, you were not allowed to pass through it and queue on the other side for the toilet. You were allowed to go through if the toilet was empty, but not if it was occupied. I was told this was to protect the pilots. From what – weak bladdered nutters?
I’ll continue with more in the very near future…
