Landing on my Feet

Well, I'm now in the absolutely darling little town of Shrewsbury, where my lovely English Gran lives. It's extremely cold by British standards, which means it's crisp and delightful by mine. I've already had three people remark on how odd it is that it hasn't rained yet, eaten salad cream and custard (not at the same time, thankfully) and listened to the BBC. Plus had some lovely conversations with very interesting people -- strangers, old friends, and family.


My flight went by in a flash, thanks to the fruits of being accomadating. The plane was quite full and I had to move seats a few times to allow the few free seats there were to be used by those travelling with small babies (who were, miraculously, silent nearly the whole time). Not only did this move make me the darling of the stewardesses, who kept giving me complimentary headphones and chips and such, I also ended up sitting next to a fascinating English barrister named Michael and we talked nearly the whole flight. His wife lives in Oakville and he works in England (Preston, specifically) and goes over to Canada for significant chunks of time four times a year. He described it as a 'totally dysfunctional way to do things' but it seemed to be working fairly well. We talked about theology, reasonable accomadation, travel, law, swinging (not swing dancing, actual swinging), Canadian wildlife, how best to watch an airline movie when you don't have earphones, the state of Christianity, and immigration. He was a lovely man, and a 6 hour flight went by in a flash.


This did mean I didn't sleep at all though, and ended up being up for 32 hours straight. I always say that a good conversation is the only thing that will keep me up past my bedtime, and it was proven here. I met my friend Anna (who I knew from Japan) in Manchester Piccadilly Station for a brief chat (and, thrillingly, we saw a scene from Coronation Street being filmed in the train station -- talk about English!). I came closest to falling asleep on the train ride to Shrewsbury, despite the beautiful scenery. But then (after my cabbie getting lost) I got to Gran's house and we chatted animatedly until dinner (although my brain did tend to go into hibernation if I stopped doing anything for more than 30 seconds), after which I slept like a rock for 11 hours straight and woke up at 9:15 totally adjusted to English time. Not a bad first day, I think!


Here's one of the main streets of downtown Shrewsbury:



I think it's safe to say that my hometown pales in comparison.