Wednesday, 5 September 2018

The View from Over Here

Wow! Being back in blighty after a few years’ absence is a weird feeling, part excitement and part apprehension in equal measure. I wasn’t sure quite what I’d think of the place but was keen to find out. It has, after all, been a tumultuous period for the UK. So, although not strictly a blog from New Zealand, here are my observations (in no particular order) on being back in the UK;

Scenery
It has been said, on more than one occasion, that New Zealand is one of the most beautiful countries on the planet. And it is stunning; from sub-tropical beaches to snow-capped mountains. But I had forgotten just how wonderful the British countryside is. My short walk along Hadrian’s Wall brought this back into focus; rolling green fields, stone walls, gentle babbling brooks, copse covered hills and jutting escarpments. Sublime.

And whilst we’re on the topic of the great outdoors, a nod has to go to the weather. I thought the British weather was usually a washout, especially this close to Autumn. At least that’s how I remember it. But so far it’s been on its best behaviour. High five!




Football.... real Football!
Ahh, association football! Where have you been? Yes I know that we’ve just had the World Cup and with that an opportunity to see some live games, but there is something to be said for being able to casually watch some coverage without having to get up in the middle of the night. It’s a whole lot better to watch a match fully awake and with a beer at your side. Unless of course you happen to be watching Middlesbrough. In which case the beer helps but being awake probably doesn’t. Of course I’m only joking......

The Long Mile
Stop being bloody awkward and adopt the kilometre will you! Or at least be consistent. It’s not big or clever having some signs in miles and others in kilometres. Besides, you went metric decades ago so why the unhealthy obsession with miles? 

It’s no fun when you’re a runner being told on a signpost that there’s only ‘1’ left to go to your destination only to remember that it will mean miles and not kilometres. You actually feel like you’re making progress when you’re counting down kilometres. Yes, I understand that there are more of them to count down but it just feels better. Come on, you know it makes sense. And that reminds me.....

Where’s the Fire?
Why is everyone in such a rush to get where it is they’re going? Is there some existential race that everyone has entered without telling me? On the short journey from the airport I was genuinely surprised by the speed and ferocity with which cars passed. I was half expecting to look in my rear view mirror and see a T-Rex stomping down the A1. 

And it wasn’t just limited to the highway. Even on foot, in supermarkets or in the high street, everyone seems to have a determination to get where they’re going in a short a space of time as possible. Listen, and I say this from a position of deepest respect.....it’s not a race. Slow down, you’ll feel a lot better I promise!

Automatic for the People
What is it with manual gears in cars? After over four years of driving various forms of automatic shifting cars from little compacts to Toyota Hiluxes I can honestly say I’ve embraced this advancement in automotive technology. Yes advancement. Why on earth wouldn’t you? And don’t give me that “it’s not proper driving” line. Of course it is, and besides, maybe if you had one less thing to do whilst driving you’d have more time to devote to more useful operations such as.....of, I don’t know.... the indicators? Just a thought. 

Money, money, money
What on earth has happened to the money? I got some cash from an ATM and it seems to have a life of its own. I have tried folding it, squashing it and pressing it under heavy books only to see my efforts undone within seconds as the bloody stuff springs back open. I foolishly tried to contain the cash it in my wallet only to have it nearly take out an eye when I opened it to pay for some drinks. It’s certainly feisty stuff so thank goodness for the rise in popularity of contactless payment. Not only is it more convenient and reduces the need to carry around tonnes of metal coins, it will also reduce the number of visits to A&E and make the job of bar tending a far less hazardous occupation.

And If You Know Your History
In all fairness, I hadn’t forgotten that the UK has some pretty spectacular historical buildings, but it did take a walk along the aforementioned wall to remind me just how much of it abounds. There’s so much of it’s almost embarrassing. I came across an old stone cattle trough that was being used as .....well a cattle trough. In other countries it would be taken away and preserved in a museum as a national treasure and not used as a means to distribute food to animals.

York, one of the stops  on my itinerary, dates back to 71AD but it is believed that people inhabited this area as far back as 8000BC. Faced with those set of numbers, it’s no surprise that one can become a little blasé about history. It’s just sort of here, there and everywhere.

Suds
If there is one single startling difference between the two counties, it’s probably the preference for the temperature of the popular alcoholic refreshment. In New Zealand there appears to be a competition to see quite how cold the beer can be served. From super-chilled beer to refrigerated glasses, no stone has been left unturned in the quest to get the liquid to as close to freezing as possible. The UK, on the otherhand, seems quite amenable to hardly bothering to cool the drink at all. Why go to the expense and faff of refrigeration when people are perfectly happy quaffing it at room temperature? 

At the risk of being ostracised from my homeland, I much prefer my beer to be served with a slight chill, although not so cold as to risk throatal-frostbite, and a few bubbles didn’t harm anyone. If  you’d asked me four years ago what my preference was, I’d have quickly told you that beer should be at room temperature and definitely not have any fizz. But four years of living in New Zealand has changed that, well slightly anyway. Besides, flat beer served at room temperature just wouldn’t cut it in a Kiwi summer.

And here’s the thing, there’s no right or wrong - it’s just a matter of personal preference. Taste if you like. 

Trains not Planes or Automobiles
Well would you look at that! What a great idea...and it might just catch on. I’d forgotten just how great it is to be able to travel by train. I’m mean proper travel and not just scooting around a city. Actually getting on in one town and then being whisked to the centre of another. New Zealand does, of course, have trains but not what you’d call a train service. Yes you can get on a train in Auckland and travel to the capital Wellington, as long as you’re prepared to devote the whole day to the journey and don’t mind not coming back until Thursday.

I’m sure that there is still plenty to complain about but at least you’ve got something to complain about, if you catch my drift. 

Brexit
I couldn’t leave a blog about being back in the UK without mentioning the unmentionable. When the result of the vote was announced, the view from New Zealand was one of bemusement. A bit like being the only sober person at a party and watching in disbelief and puzzlement as one if your friends gets riotously drunk and proceeds to tell everyone in the room exactly what they think of them.

Being closer to the action, as it were, hasn’t helped and if anything the situation looks even more chaotic up close with neither Party being able to decide what it was that the population actually voted for. I deeply suspect it wasn’t this. There isn’t long now to sort out whatever it is that needs to be sorted - and the list is getting longer by the day - so it’s going to be interesting watching it unfold, albeit from a safe distance!


It has been a genuine pleasure to be back and I’ve enjoyed every minute of my all-too-brief visit. It’s been great to be reminded of things that I’d forgotten, to see what’s been going on in my absence and check out all the changes. But one thing that hasn’t changed is the welcome I received from family and friends. Within moments of meeting, the four years of absence melted away and we picked up exactly where we left off. And, at the risk of sounding mawkishly sentimental, that is what the UK really means to me. It’s a place where I can go, no matter where I’ve been or for how long, and know that I’ll be met with open arms. 

Right, that’s enough of that! I’ve got a flight to catch and in only twenty eight hours time I’ll be back in NZ. Easy as!

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