When does the ‘homesickness’ end….?

So, it’s been a while dear reader……

You might not care one way or the other that my reparation from America to England musings ceased to exist for a few months. The reason behind my lack of musings is kind of a good thing (I’ve been really busy with work) and kind of a bad thing (normality has set in).

A recent returned expat who we spent a lot of time with in the States asked me this week ‘when does the homesickness end?’. And, to be honest, I don’t think it ever does. (Note the use of ‘home’….. interesting.)

The thing is, you can immerse yourself in it all back here, (I am doing just that), and some kind of normal gradually takes over, but every day a wave of memory sweeps over me, and I think ‘Gawd, it was good…..’ It was effing good.

But, what’s been a-diddling in the land of Eng that’s worth noting?

It’s been three months folks since the cold February blog and apparently there’s a heat wave coming (about flippin’ time!), folks.

Right, in no particular order…….

• May Bank Holiday was wet. Of course it was. What was I expecting?! It was made slightly more annoying by Facebook’s constant reminders that I was in the Bahamas with my lush chum Georgina this time last year.
• We had the races in Cheltenham. Again. I don’t really do the races in Cheltenham. To be fair, this goes against my mantra of not knocking anything until you’ve tried it, but I’ve seen it, and it has a) crowds; b) drunk people in the crowds; and c) drunk people in crowds betting on horses. The only reason I would go is to buy HihoSilver jewellery, cos its lush.
• I interviewed Jordan/Katie Price. She’s one of the most famous British Page 3 girls (ie, she has big knockers/tits). She was actually really nice, feisty and a good sport. And her tits were a bit disappointing, to be honest. (She had them reduced, I was later told.)

That’s Katie/Jordan on the left 🙂

• This week is Chelteham Jazz Festival when all the good people who adore Radio 2 come and listen to doo-wop and Jamie Cullum. It was pretty coolio. I’d never done the festival before, and I was impressed. Sign me up for next year. (PS If anyone knows why this bullet point is over there on the right, let me know – it’s doing me head in!!)
• I’ve been playing a lot of netball. Don’t make me explain that again, America 😉
• I saw the Dixie Chicks in Birmingham. I wore a cowboy hat cos it’s supposed to be like country music, innit (though give me Johnny Cash any day). No one else wore a cowboy hat. It was the first time that I really noticed the difference between Americans and the British. Americans aren’t afraid to express themselves. In America, I would have been in the majority dressed like that and we’d have been rocking it. In England, I just looked like a bit of a dick in fancy dress. I also noticed, not for the first time, that British people are really uncomfortable wooping. And even if they do woop, they apologise for it.
• Victoria Wood, my very queen of British comedy died. I used to use her Bikini Danfruff monologue as my audition speech for drama school. Amazing, she was.
• The Queen turned 90. I was very disappointed. Wot no party, queenie? #shameonyoubuckinghampalace
• Game of Thrones is shown here on a Monday night, unlike the USA’s Sunday night featurette. Lucky buggers. I now have to avoid all my American friend’s posts on Facebook for a whole like 16 hours or something ike that. Anyway, do not do SPOILERS, chums – it’s rude!
• The Rolling Stones exhibition in London is amazeballs. It was like a litlte piece of heaven for me. I love these British boys. Slightly even more obsessed now, and worried that they’ll die before I get to see them live.
  

  Rock chick at heart!

• I’m doing a lot of BBC chat here in Gloucestershire. Recently we talked about what vegetables you keep in your fridge. Fascinating stuff!
• People I meet in the UK think Donald Trump is a total looney toon. Of course they do! We Brits don’t tolerate his shenanigans.
• We have local elections here soon. People are very concerned about potholes in the roads, apparently. Serious stuff.
• I am going to play Mrs Robinson in The Graduate in August. I hope to do it in an American accent. Although I do tend to sound a bit like a drunk southern belle at times, so my American chumbelees told me….
• My American friends often call me early morning UK time. That’s like 2am their time. Love them.
• My friend Simon Sheridan, who is like a top banana film writer and director, made a film called Respectable: The Mary Millington Story and I went to the London premiere in Soho, which was like the most exciting thing I’ve done since I’ve been back. And the film is incredible. And it’s available on Netflix in the UK and the USA, so if you want to learn about the British national treasure and the 70s porn industry, you know what to watch. I highly recommend it.
  

  Simon and me with David Sullivan, who is the West Ham dude and top bloke 🙂

• Harry loves pasties. Yes, this great British food from the county of Cornwall (or Devon, depending on who you ask). It’s a fave!
• I was in the Boots magazine, and got advice about how not to be tired at weekends. Don’t go out so much, I suspect my mother would say!
  

  What a dreadful skirt!

  That’s all folks! I won’t leave it as long next time, promise! x

 

 

 

This is not America: an essay about British and American cultures and attitudes

Whilst the genius that was David Bowie was referencing America in a different context in his iconic song, I can’t get this lyric out of my head. It’s a blend of his Britishness, his love of NYC, and his many references to America in his songs that have caught my imagination and perhaps inspired this essay. (You might need a cuppa for this one – it’s long, and slightly contentious!!)

Yep, this is UK that I am living in again and this is definitely not America.

 

And, during my time back in the UK I’ve noticed and listened to many British comments that make direct reference to the fact that they’re very happy that this country is not America. Whilst I’ve always acknowledged many of America’s failings that I experienced or was aware of, and alluded to some of its more odd, amusing or problematic characteristics through my blog Desperate English Housewife in Washington during my three years there, I am still stunned when I hear Brits let rip at the USA and Americans.

Over the past five months I’ve heard many Brits comment with real negativity about the country and its people. Yes, there is a slightly racist brush which we Brits feel it’s okay to sweep across America.

Oh, I get how the brashness and the commercialism and the bright lights and the fear of those middle States taking over the politics might be a cause for concern, or how ripe certain topics are for scrutiny and that these naturally and legitimately can bear the brunt of our very British wit and sarcasm, but there is also often a real condescending, superior tone from many Brits which I’ve witnessed, especially when I say I used to live in the USA.

You know, that tone. The one that’s saved for looking down on someone who you think has got it wrong, someone who isn’t very classy, someone who doesn’t live up to your standards, someone who you think is dumb, or inferior. You know, that bullying tone.

And whilst it is very clear that, when America sticks its head above the parapet and does make great big dickhead mistakes, or is unjustly arrogant, or there are issues that we feel need to be resolved faster and with more balls – the gun issue, gay rights, race issues, or abortion (for instance) – the country does lend itself to general piss taking or mocking, or is a cause for concern in our modern society.

But, otherwise, what I hear is just bullying.

Yes, yes, I know the USA has positioned itself as a super power and is one of the wealthiest countries in the world and should take it all on the chin, but behind that facade, there are deep-rooted issues and vulnerability. But we Brits like to bring people down. It’s part of us, we say – that’s how we roll. Or is just tiresome and slightly xenophobic? Think about the most successful person on TV, or in your life, that you know – as a Brit, don’t you just love to bring them down? We don’t big them up, we don’t often say ‘you’re amazing, carry on being amazing!’. No, we don’t do that – or, at least, not enough. I bet many a Brit would be loathe to admit that they secretly don’t want that successful person to succeed. We naturally support the underdog – that’s the way we’re inclined. And America is not, nor would it want to be, the underdog.

Are we slightly jealous that once upon a time there was us, the British Empire, and then, well, there wasn’t….? Maybe that’s just history. But our relationship with America is complicated. We’re kind of cool to have you on our side and all that, but we laugh at your commercialism, and your CocaCola, and your obesity problem (Britain – we have one too, you know!), and your guns, and your ‘uneducated’ states in the middle that we don’t really know the names of but mock anyway. Yes, the sweeping stereotypes we like to place on America.

We Brits, with our heritage and culture and etiquette and constant nod to the age of ‘better days gone by’, do we see America as that ‘new money’ place? Is that how this one goes? Silly, immature America that got the money and built the big house, but which will never quite shape up to the expectation of our esteemed order, because it doesn’t ‘have history’ (I beg to differ), and it doesn’t, quite simply, have class (again, I beg to differ).

Don’t get me wrong, I love Britain and am very proud to be British. I love British culture, theatre, our sense of humour, popular music, art, London, the general cultural vibe – that’s my favourite thing about Britain. And I love America. I love its different cultures in one country, its embracing of arts, its genuine desire to better itself, its sense of politics, its new-worldness.  And I love the two countries’ differences and their similarities, and I recognise both of their flaws. What I don’t love sometimes – and it really does grate – is the attitude that some Brits have to the USA and Americans, because it does reveal an exaggerated sense of one’s own importance.

 

There is a perception that all Americans are ill-informed about anything outside their own country, and pretty ignorant of where other countries are, and any facts about them. Of course this is going to be true in some areas – I liked to share facts about Europe and the UK in general with these peeps who didn’t have a vast knowledge. But, in truth, my knowledge about the USA was pretty minimal when I went there. I mean, it was mostly based on West Side Story, Fame!, The Wire, Dallas and Deperate Housewives, for goodness sake.

America is a big old country, and it still makes me smile when I hear the NATIONAL travel news on Radio 2 in the morning here in the UK, whilst in the States my Baltimore radio station would only do the traffic report for a certain length of the I95 (which goes from NYC to Florida) based in their immediate area. That’s just how it works. It’s a big place!

The American people that I met and hung out with on the East Coast were warm, friendly, very very smart, progressive, classy, educated, open-minded and intuitive. They created a fantastically spiritual, welcoming, intelligent environment for me to live in and I thrived on that.

Some of the comments that I’ve heard recently left my jaw hanging slightly. Yes, the crass open-gobness of a Brit who’s obviously been injected with some American non-culture. That’s me!

Many of the comments I’ve heard have been based upon media perceptions and ignorance, and possibly a mix of fear and snobbery.

‘Oh I don’t think I could cope with living in America.’

‘Have you ever been there?’

‘No, but I wouldn’t want to.’

‘Why’s that? I had a great time.’

‘I think it would be….too “American” for me….’ 

Who said ‘people fear what they don’t understand’?

They were right.

Some Brits actually appear quite horrified that I enjoyed living in America so much. In fact, they seem slightly disappointed and mortified that a fellow Brit feels this way, and no doubt come to the conclusion that I must have been taken there without consent and consequently brainwashed by some American cult. 😉

One fundamental difference about being there in the States and being back in the UK is realising just how much Americans love us Brits. They do. They flippin’ love us (most of them, anyway!). My American friends were always wanting to know more about Britain. Americans I met found us intriguing, they were always asking questions about us and about our culture (and not just Downton Abbey and One Direction and the Royal family!). The Americans I got to know welcomed me, brought me into their community, they were warm and friendly, and they made me feel I belonged. And, honestly, they made me feel special. Do we do this to Americans, British people – do we? Do we see or hear an American in our community and make them feel special? If not, we should.

 

David Bowie was right: this is not America. Right on. And you also know what, America is not Britain. And that’s why I was so very glad to live in America for a while.  But now I really am glad to be back – and in part due to the fact that the positivity I enjoyed over there in the States is actually happening right here, right now, in my little bit of the world in Cheltenham, The Cotswolds. You see, much of the work ethic and philosophy that I’m experiencing in the business community in Gloucestershire, of which I am now part, is based on many very American sentiments. It’s all about making the change happen, living and fulfilling your dream, overcoming the hurdles, bigging up people and supporting their success, not drowning  yourself and others in criticism, and networking and embracing new people and new ideas.

So, I’m glad to be back in the UK at what is a very positive, driven time – and it appears there has been an injection of American culture that’s making its mark in the UK, and, whether folks like it or not, I get the impression it is here to stay for a while!

Finally – don’t we tell ourselves, like we tell our kids, to accept everyone; that one way is not right and the other way is not wrong, but that they are just different…….? I like the sentiment about taking a moment to appreciate each other and our differences. We should do it more.

Peace out my many friends 🙂

Comments very welcome!

 

 

 

Who are the great Great British public?

Well, certainly not the grumpy bloke at Cheltenham railway station who should so not be in customer service, that’s for sure. Or the old dude who thought that it was okay to tell me that anyone young/not white/has tattoos/ etc is not fit to be part of the British community, and that all Americans are fat and stupid, whilst in the Waitrose coffee line…..argh!

But, reassuringly, this week I’ve found some of the great Great British peeps who don’t use passive aggressiveness or rudeness as a communications tool. Yes, that really is a Very British Thing. 😉

 

The top banana peeps

I met a taxi driver in London who was so funny and friendly, I wanted to do another 40 minute trip in rush hour London traffic. Yes, really.

I met a bunch of women who didn’t care about material things and were bored to tears by Black Friday nonsense. Hallelujah to that!

I met a gentleman who was a poet, leukemia sufferer and all-round go-getter of life. He struck up conversation with me, which, let’s face it, Brits, is v v v unusual! It rather took me pleasantly by surprise 🙂

I met working women who are strong and fierce and work hard and want to do different things with their lives. They rock.

I met people who laughed and smiled and joked in the great British way I remember. We need more of that!

And I work with truly inspiring British people who love all things British and are as supportive and innovative as it gets. That’s a huge bonus 🙂

Talking repat language

I also met a British expat who had lived in the States for 8 years and was now back in the Cotswolds and was having a hard time adjusting to the British way of life again.

She spoke a language I understood. We spoke of the ‘grieving process’ of repatriating, the difficulty with friends whose lives have just gone on, the British reserve, the way kids are NOT accepted in social situations / restaurants, and how the mindset and lifestyle is totally different when you’re living in the USA.

Sigh, I can’t waffle on about this for too much longer, but it’s true, and there it is. The repatriation is still tough to get to grips with and it’s hard to always be positive, but I refuse to miss Uncle Sam and my life there too much!

Very British Christmas

Some friends in the States have asked me to share very British Christmas things.

So, here you go……

 

To be clear – none of the above is happening now! It’s basically just raining now. Grey skies and all that! But, British people are looking forward to this, and yes, it does look charming and idyllic, but if you followed my Desperate English Housewife in Washington blog you’ll know that snow totally messes with my head, so I’ll stick with the incessant rain for now!

Cheerio !

 

British history and a Louisiana letter

Right, there’s some stuff that’s working for me back in England right now…and I feel a right lot smarter for knowing it, so I thought I’d share the knowledge and love…

Shepherds’ Huts

Look at this beauty in Somerset. It’s called the Dimpsey Hut (fyi, ‘dimpsey’ is the the time in the evening just before dusk used by folk in the West Country!)

The history lesson

In the olden days (like 150 years ago), before the advent of artificial fertilizers, distant pastures on many mixed Farms would be inaccessible the to the large farm manure wagons bringing manure from the Farm yard. These would have had a visit from the Shepherd and his flock of Sheep. The Sheep were not allowed to wander freely but were kept enclosed behind wooden hurdles.

This process was called ‘folding’. Once the forage crop had been grazed, the Sheep, Shepherd, his dog and mobile home; his Shepherds Hut, would move to pastures new. The land would then be ploughed, returning the nutrients in the droppings to the land. The Hut contained a small stove, a straw bed over a cage where lambs could be kept (known as a Lamb rack) and a simple medicine cupboard containing various potions. This regularly included a bottle of Whisky to revive a sickly lamb (or Shepherd).

British history lesson over. You can actually win a break to stay in this abode! Awesomeballs! Go here to enter…..

I’ve stayed in this Dimpsey Hut and it’s like a small piece of heaven. If you want to get all snuggly and secluded, like I do, then it is perfect. And since the balmy November week we just had has turned to a crazy cold, bitter wind, I can’t think of anywhere else I would rather be. Now that’s spot on British!

Miss Gloria in Louisiana

I recently got a few emails from a lovely lady in Louisiana and it warmed me cockles, as we say here in England! This is what she wrote to me and I just had to share her words:

Thanks

Hello there Ms. Claire,

(using our southern manner of address and five months ago)

We are going to miss you when you’ve gone.  Yes we are.  We are going to miss your laughter, your joie de vivre, and your funny (meaning ‘amusing’) writing style.  We will feel a hole in our hearts when you’ve gone.

We will miss you showing us the things, we would never have thought problematic for someone until you (or another expat) pointed them out to us who grew up here. – Gloria

Hello again (Nov 20, 2015)

Have tried to following you through your repat blog.  Have felt your difficulty in adjustment. Just wanted to say how much you have been missed on Am-soil. Wanted to show my appreciation to your past writings before I forget to let you know or am no longer able to.

About me: (I am old, southern, Louisiana-bilingual-bicultural, former teacher, love to read, used to love to write, but never wrote much.  Certainly never published.  Can appreciate good writers, and thus so attached to your writing.

May never read you much again so took this opportunity to wish you luck. (Probably never got over belief in grading someone’s work and letting them know my opinion.)

Hope all your wishes for your work or/and dreams come true.  I wrote a 2nd note and will send it too.  – Gloria

Hello there Ms Claire,

Thank you very much for letting me see my country through  your eyes.  I enjoyed your presence here immensely.  I’ve never enjoyed a blog more.  I always had much to react to positively when reading you but was always too shy to attach it in responses for all the world to see.  And I had once believed I would write.!

Anyhow, just wanted to tell you of my love for what you write, how you write, and how you write it when you write.  Perhaps because there’s a sense of humor (or shall I say humour now that you’ve gone home?) reminiscent of mine.  It has always been difficult for me to enjoy the British humour in films or television but your expressions were different all together. – Gloria 

Wow! Big shout out to Miss Gloria – I love such correspondence and am waving madly and sending British hugs to her from across the pond! I hope that one day we will meet! I hope that it will be in Louisiana, one of my favourite states! And now her lovely words are immortalised in my blog. Awesomeballs.

Stay warm one and all!

 

It can’t get anymore British can it?!

British School

This week has been an onslaught of very British things invading my senses. My reaction is more often than not thus: oooh I know that thing, but it feels kind of weird, and yet kind of normal too.

Like school for Harry. Obviously it’s been 30-odd years since I went to primary school so it’s naturally changed oodles, but my comparison is, of course, American schooling from the past three years. Honestly, not too sad to leave that behind. Sorry America, much as I love soooo much about you,  I just couldn’t connect with the American school system.

But let’s start with the British school uniform. Cute, yes. Stripping one’s identity? Slightly, but I totally love the rationale behind school uniforms in the UK. Anyhoo, there it is in all its glory. No tie yet though, thank the Lord. There’s a 4-6 week waiting list for that piece of fun.

According to Harry the best things about British school are, in order: ‘toffee sticky pudding’; the ‘boys’ toilets that hang on the wall’; and his lovely teacher, who I am sure gets a lot of attention from the fathers on parents’ evening 😉

British cricket

I am actually typing this whilst sitting in glorious British sunshine – the warmest day that I’ve experienced since I’ve been back. Yes, I know it’s still 80 degrees and humid in Maryland, and I miss the hocohomos and the pool etc, but my word this current climate is suitably pleasant to have a cup of tea in whilst in yer t-shirt and whilst not having to worry about bikini issues, if you know what I’m saying ladies.

So, with such a fabulous day today, of course it was the coldest day so far yesterday because we spent it outside at a cricket and beer festival with scarves and jackets and thermal ruddy socks on. That is so very, very British 🙂

Still capitalizing on that expat thing….

Yep, I’m still harping on about being an expat in the USA and that will happen for a while, I suspect. I’m not done yet with cultural comparisons.

So, here is a podcast I did last weekend with my old school chum who is right knowledgeable about languages and culture and stuff. It was super fun talking to him, and I natter on for ages, just to warn you!

http://www.100percentbusinessenglish.com/american-and-british-culture-with-claire-mcgill/

I also got a chance to gas on BCC radio here in Gloucestershire last week. I promised the presenter it was only this time on the show that I would use the phrase ‘When I was in America’, cos it gets a tad annoying even to my ears!

Sad sad news

My sad new is this: my glorious American tan that I spent ages cultivating has now faded and I feel all white and puffy, since my abs have also disappeared thanks to excess UK fish and chips and cider. Thank gawd for dry September and St Tropez tanning gel!

It’s all coming back to me now….

British Bits and Bobs

Look, I promise not to bleat on about the British weather, but it’s been messing with my head.

Saturday day time: glorious! I mean totes amazeballs, folks. Hooray, England looks beautiful, says young Harry. A beer and cider festival in the day was a very British affair in my parents’ very British village (straight out of a Joanna Trollope book!) but that sunshine made it special.

Saturday night time: heading out for a bit of open air cinema in Cheltenham to support my friend’s market and blow me down, if the heavens didn’t open as soon as we set up to watch the movie (or ‘film’ as my chum kept reminding me it was called on these shores 😉 ).

And Sunday and today? More rain.

‘Is it autumn now in England?’ asks Harry.

‘It feels like bloody winter,’ says I.

That brolly is firmly at my side every step of the way!

British summer’s evening!

Listening to the radio

This is a refreshing and happy experience for me! Songs that probably were rarely, if ever, played on the US radio stations I listened to are literally like music to my ears: The Happy Mondays, New Order, and even Take That (no shame!). Although on Radio 2 everyone is always complaining about the state of affairs in the UK. Must stop listening to Jeremy Vine’s show – bunch of grumps who are too miserable for me! I’m Mrs Positive, innit!

Everything closes early

What’s a working man or woman to do after work? Not go and get a haircut or drop their suit off for dry cleaning or other jobs, that’s for sure – cos everything bloody closes at 5pm!

This I cannot get used to. The joy of late night everything in the USA compared to the day stopping completely here at 5pm. Someone who I might be married to grumbled that it was ‘like living in the 1970s’. Except I do not have flowers in my hair, which I would have had, had I been this age circa 1970-74 🙂 Just sayin’ in a totally non-relevant way.

Cheerio!

Cultural Discombobulation Innit!

DISCOMBOBULATION

verb (used with object), discombobulated, discombobulating.

1. to confuse or disconcert; upset; frustrate:

As in ‘The British expat was completely discombobulated by the return to her own country.’

Yep, that is me right now. It’s been a crazy return already, and I haven’t stopped because tomorrow I start work and there is sooooo much to do!

So, this is what’s occurring, in no particular order:

1. My cats are well happy to be back. They’re looking at me with big yellow ‘thank you’ eyes.

Happy cat!

2. Harry is super happy to be back too. He loves our little house and our little cabin in our garden and he doesn’t care how small they are because they are his. He also has no idea what a radiator is. So much to learn.

3. I did not know how to fill up with gas (ugh, I mean petrol!) at a British petrol station and had to phone my mum to ask her. Britain, let’s do the pay at pump machines more – it’s so much quicker and prevents me from having to go into the garage shop and buying Cadbury’s Buttons as well. Yes, folks, REAL chocolate!

4. Fish and chips taste like they should do, but they don’t come in paper. Sad news.

No paper, folks

5. I feel like Gulliver in Lilliput. At first I thought someone had shrunk my house, after all that big American stuff I was used to. Forty eight hours later it just feels normal.

6. People in England are much friendlier than I remembered! Everyone’s so helpful and smiley. Who’d have thunk it? 🙂

7. Some people appear to be disappointed that I haven’t picked up an American accent. I am not Joss Stone FFS!

8. The Gloucestershire accent is making me smile. It’s so bloody West Country – oohaarr!

9. I have only got into the wrong side of the car once. I have yet to drive on the wrong side!

10. Traffic lights. There are lots of them and it sucks that you can’t turn left on red. This needs to happen, Britain!

11. My parents are amazing. They’ve totally helped me out massively!

12. I can’t find any of my Boots or Sainsbury’s or Tesco’s rewards cards and it’s doing my head in. I need my points!

13. I think I appreciate the higgledy piggledy joy of England a little more today than I did yesterday. It will grow on me.

My garden needs some TLC!

Cheers y’all! Onwards with the cultural challenges!

Vegas Rocks my British sensibilities!

Four days in Vegas

Let’s be honest, I am a bit of a party girl. No doubt about that. I totally loved Nashville and New Orleans and they are party towns, but they are also steeped in culture and history and that gives tourists like me a welcome respite from the bars and the partying.

Anyhoo, Vegas. All together a different kettle of fish. #1, not a lot of history going on there, and whilst I was keen to hear the mob and Mormon history of Vegas, it’s not widely referenced. Wonder why that is! #2, people are not there for the culture. Fact. 😉

Folks go to Vegas to party hard, drink hard, watch a few shows, see some nudey shenanigans, and, of course, gamble. And Vegas had me in a conundrum. Before our return to the UK (two weeks today!) we wanted to experience something so very, very unBritish and totally non-Cotswolds town. Vegas it was. I had no real expectations. Just bring it on.

Bring it on!

And my mind was blown. As I write this on the plane leaving Las Vegas (had to get that in!) to return to Maryland for the final time I realize that I actually struggled with the overt opulence and decadence of Vegas. There are golden hotels that are the size of small countries and they offer everything from massages to sex shows to breakfast Black Jack to travelators so you don’t have to (God forbid!) walk etc. The list goes on. I found it overwhelming. I found it selfish and greedy. I was uncomfortable witnessing people flash their money and showcase their wealth and to hear stories of people losing it and not giving a damn, cos ‘there’s more where that came from’. And alongside all this, I struggled with the juxtaposition of wealth against the amount of people begging outside the casinos.

But, and herein lies the conundrum, I still appreciated and enjoyed the bright lights and the stunning architecture of the hotels and the choice and the food and the people watching and the shows and the craziness of it all. It wanted to swallow me up with its own unique escapism, but I chose to remain slightly on the outside, just observing and touching a small fragment of Vegas, lest it take my soul and never let me go! I feel a bit dirty coming away from it, like I needed a good week cleansing and detoxing my mind and my soul in the Tibetan mountains with nothing but one set of clothes and  a cup of rice and a book whilst helping communities and educating small children. I’m no martyr, but anything that is completely the other end of the spectrum from Vegas sounds appealing after our time there.

Might need some of this!

But don’t get me wrong, it was an experience. And Blackpool in the UK will pale in comparison (not that I EVER intend going there again after a God-awful time back in 2000!). I love experience, so in that respect I loved my time in Vegas because it truly was an experience and experiences are what make up so much of my USA journey. It also made me think and reflect about my next journey in life and what shape that will take.

I do think, however, that right now a large dose of the English countryside is in order to reset my senses after Vegas!

The Canyon vs Red Rock

Controversial tourist observation follows: I enjoyed visiting Red Rock far more that the Grand Canyon. OMG! What?! Really!?

Yes, really.

We bussed it to the Canyon (5 hours there and five hours back, with two hours in the Canyon only!) and I’m sure if we had taken the helicopter ride (and therefore not been able to eat again for the rest of our time here in the USA because it is so flipping expensive) we’d have had a different perspective. We only touched a small part of the Canyon (cos it’s massive innit?!), but I didn’t feel it enveloped me like I wanted it to. Oh gosh, it’s magnificent, but it didn’t reach into my soul for the short time we were exposed to it. Next time, maybe we can fly…?! 😉 Or camp or walk in the heart of that great big Canyon. Then I will feel it’s reached me and I didn’t just look.

At the Canyon

Red Rock, on the other hand, oozed personality. If rocks can have character, then these rocks have it in abundance and we saw this because we were able to get into the heart of Red Rock. I loved this place, and we needed exposure to something like this, and Bonnie Springs Ranch nearby, to bring us back to the glorious reality of nature after the nutty Las Vegas strip. I am so glad I saw Red Rock. It is truly beautiful and will stay with me for a long, long time.

Loved Red Rock

Kettles at the ready!

Englishers, the time is nearly upon us! So, fill up those kettles and stick a cosy on the teapot, we’re coming back soon!

I was asked if I’m ready. I’m not quite in the zone yet, because there is so much to do here still and so many people to spend time with and things to enjoy. I’ll get there, though, I’m sure. Reverse culture shock, I’m ready for ya!

Trying to make the repat process fun: online Tesco order (yes really!)

I’m finding the UK repatriation thingymabob slightly tough. There is so much to sort out, and to be honest I really just want to be making the most of my time here, not packing and ticking off lists and planning bits and bobs. It seems endless, and is not helping my insomnia!

However, after a frustrating day attempting to tick of various repatriation to-dos I decided to do something fun in my repat-list. The online food order for our return! I remember that when I did the USA one it was fascinating and weird, since I had to Google various items using the British words to find out what the US alternative was. You know, stuff like ‘kitchen roll’ = ‘paper towel’, ‘washing powder’ = ‘laundry detergent’ etc.

This time round, on the Tesco website (Gawd Bless ‘Em, they remembered me and my ClubCard points after three years!) it was super fun inputting all the British groceries! I was mentally re-stocking my cupboards with all sorts of British items. And BOOZE – let’s not forget the joy of ordering booze on your weekly shop! The food is generally slightly cheaper, I think, than in the USA.

Rich Tea biscuits, jam, bacon, teabags, crisps (Monster Munch and Skips!), Cadbury’s, OXO cubes, Bovril and a load of other things made the list. And I haven’t finished yet! I’ll still be adding, since I don’t need it delivered till August, obviously! Suggestions welcome!

It’s The Final Countdown (doodoodoodoo!)

I haven’t written on this blog for a while cos much has been happening still in the USA (like roadtrips and cool stuff), and, quite frankly, I’ve been slightly resenting having to spend my precious fun time packing and sorting and sorting and packing. But needs, must, cos we head back in just over 3 1/2 months.

We’ve been having USA fun roadtripping!

I’ve got yard sales to do, volunteering to build houses to complete, holibobs to have, parties to organise, summer camps to attend, festival to get drunk at, and all sorts of fun stuff to be getting on with over the next three months, as well as the dreaded mundane sorting and packing. Bleurgh.

But also, we’re looking ahead to the UK (at least I am) since I need something called AN INCOME. I love working, so that’s a bonus, and I want to use my new found travel bug and writing skills, and, By Jove, I only went and bloody well blagged myself a job doing travel PR for a coolio company in the town wot I live in. So, double thumbs up for me! I can cross ‘Get a job‘ off the To Do List. But that only reduces the list by a teeny-tiny percent.

Back in the PR game!

There’s shed loads to do UK side: book camps to keep our son occupied whilst we’re at work over the last weeks of the summer in the UK, sort our tenants and our house and all that needs doing in the garden which is ramshackle, find a ruddy school because the English school system is (how do I put this politely – oh, I can’t) slightly f*cked and there are no places for 7 year olds in Cheltenham cos everyone got jiggy with it in 2007/8 and now there are too many kids and not enough school places.  Etc etc.

I shan’t bore you with the rest of my list, because you don’t need to know things like: ‘Do a massive grocery order for delivery the day after we arrive’, but now you do know that, and, fyi, it will be with Tesco because I wish to resume my ClubCard points and I’m not a supermarket snob really and truly (tho I did feel slightly smug that my new offices are near to Whole Foods 😉 ).

Anyhoo, in addition, our cats are booked on the flights back to the UK now, so we need to practically remortgage the house so they can come back with us cos of all the injections and wotnot that are needed too. My husband was kind of hoping they’d pop their clogs out here, since they are 13, but no such luck for him. Back to Blighty you go, wee mittens whom I love!

So, yes, we are on countdown and I am going slightly crazy living between two worlds, but with today being St George’s Day it’s been nice to see a fair bit of patriotism about England which warmed me cockles, so it did. And yes, by George (pun intended), I will defo miss the USA loads and my heart will yearn for it, but I rise to the challenge of repatriation and I will slay those dragons that get in my way (I’m not a junkie, I’m just trying to carry on the St George metaphor…).

So, toodlepip and happy St George’s Day to you!