Friday, September 13, 2013

Back to the U of K

See the clock tower is pretty in Bradford
Some of my last days being European were spent being "non-European" in the UK.  It's amazing what a big difference a little channel can make in defining a people.  The British are uniquely their own, and there are so many similarities between them and us, that I realize this really was where our foundation came from.  Of course, we've become a lot more politically correct/sensitive, generally our worldviews and style of business is more the same (especially compared to other countries in Europe).  And they are also the reason we're using a non-metric system :-).

My company's office is up north in West Yorkshire county, in a lovely town called Bradford.  Now Bradford is a unique and sad place.  It used to be a prosperous, textile city.  It has some really nice old buildings, and if the industry hadn't fallen drastically, perhaps people wouldn't be so down on it.  It's the best place to find Indian food, and is extremely multi-cultural.  That said, there are a lot of boarded up old pubs and shops, and in their place are "to let", pawn shops, or "Asian" fabric stores (I say that because that's what the British call people from India, yes I know, it's technically true - it just always throws me off a bit).  If you ever find yourself up north (about 3 hours by train north of London), try Leeds or York (which I've heard is really nice).  You won't feel so sad with the depressed run-down feel of Bradford.


Since I was going to be in the town for 2 weeks (yay?), on the weekend, I got to meet up with my bestie in Manchester.  A great young, hip town.  We happened to be there the weekend Manchester United was playing, but her risking her boyfriend over us going wasn't worth it (he's a Liverpool fan).  We did venture out that way to buy scarves for friends at least.


It was a fun weekend away.  On Friday night I had a date (remember me meeting people in Ostrava?) Yup, we made plans to go for dinner.  He took me to a really cool old bank converted to a restaurant, called Jamie's Italian - yes, more chainy than I normally like, but the atmosphere made up for it.  The next day, Hillary and I watched some football, went to Old Trafford stadium, and had a fantastic tapas dinner, at a place called La Vina.  That night, we had tickets to go to a reading, "There Has Possibly Been an Incident" - performed by 3 people at The Royal Exchange Theatre.  It was a really enjoyable, thought-provoking show.  Later we found some great local bars the Long Bar and the Oast House.

The next day, we had a lazy breakfast and walked around in a few shops before we parted ways - her south and me north.

It was a fun 2 weeks, and even better to get some bestie time in there, but it also meant my time in Europe was fast coming to an end.


A couple other places I ate which are worth mentioning:
The 3 Acres (near Huddersfield) - a great classic, upscale pub
The Alchemist (which has 2 locations in Manchester and 1 in Leeds) - a bar that has more flair than a typical speakeasy, but more inventive drinks than a normal bar.  Food was pretty good as well.
Red's True BBQ (in Leeds) - probably as close to American style BBQ that I've had in Europe, if you're jonesin' for America, it's worth a stop.  Service was ridiculously slow though - and the UK is typically better than the rest of the continent.
 


Thursday, September 5, 2013

Princes among the Froggies

An Italian, a Frenchman, and a Dutch dude walked into the bar...Other than the question of "how is it different than home?", the most common question I get is "Meet any guys?".  Yes of course, but any that you want to know about?

I started off in Holland all open and willing to meet anyone. I had 6 months, and if I was going to meet the man of my dreams, I had better get on it.  I jumped in with both feet, and went to an expat event in Rotterdam a whole 2 days after I arrived, didn't want to waste any time, so I thought it would be a good idea. Plus, a real cutie from Germany rsvp'd (but never showed :( ).

I showed up...a lot early but quickly was in a group chatting away, no princes, but it was early.  I spotted a decently attractive guy and his friend early on, but since I was in the group, couldn't exactly make a break for it, so I just eyed him from across the room.  When I escaped for another glass of wine, I casually walked towards the table said guy was at...and started up a conversation with his friend.  Both true "froggies" (i.e., Frenchmen).  The one I thought was cute... had janky teeth (and by that some were missing).  But I had a nice conversation with the other Frog man.  And by the end of night, we'd exchanged business cards.  Sure, why not, right?

As I was heading towards the metro, I ran into an Italian who was leaving as well, we chatted a bit, but that was it.  Off I went to home, happy I made the effort.  Italy emailed me a day or so later, and asked me to dinner.  What could I lose, right?  I agreed, and we met up.  He was older than I remember... a LOT older.  Hmmm...and he had no plan on where to go for dinner, so we walked along the river... to a very touristy buffet Chinese restaurant.  Dinner was palletable, and Italy thought it was fate that we met...Italy also had a 9-yr old and wasn't that interesting.  On the walk back, it was chilly, I had my hands in my pockets, and Italy decided to put his hand in my arm nook... I felt like I was walking with a dad, and hoped that's what people thought.  He then sent me a YouTube song that he said reminded him of me...alright, wasn't sure if he meant I had a good heart or one that was solid and impenetrable.  Sorry, I wished I written the name down, because apparently the YouTube video no longer works.  Humm a song about a hard hearted woman, and I'm sure that's me!

Date 2...was with the friend of the Frenchman.  It went pretty well, we met up after his squash workout (should that have been a sign?), had some wine and a charcuterie plate, then had a beer at the local Irish bar (I've come to realize, the Irish may have not been all imperialistic, but they were more successful in making their mark all over the world...).  The date ended well, and we agreed to meet again.  This is where it all went south...of France.  He offered to show me around Den Haag.  He planned...for us to meet at 1, go to the beach, have a drink, have lunch, get a drink in Den Haag, his friend was to make dinner, and then we could go out... ummm yeah, that's a LOT much.  The night before, he checked to see what I was up to, I said I was having dinner, and he said he was going to head to Rotterdam to go out, me and my friend should join.  I asked, what friend?  He said the one I was at dinner with... umm I'm not with anyone.  He then said he would come join me.... um nope! I'm going to see you for almost the full day tomorrow, and pretty sure I'm good on my own (he later told me, he understands I am a loner... there's a first for everything).


A little wary, but excited to see something new, I went with an open mind.  Oh, did  I mention he is single with 2 kids, both by the ex that he lives with - the kids came between breakups... ok, sometimes ya do things for convenience...??????  He was a gentleman, and we had a good time.  He rode back on the train with me and made sure I got home ok, so that was good.  Then it came to pass that the next train didn't run for an hour, so I acquiesced that he could use the guest room - wouldn't I be a jerk otherwise?? At 10 the next morning, froggie finally got up, he was going to get some food, did I want anything? I said no, he pressed "don't you eat in the morning" - all I could think was, LEAVE PLEASE.  He said he would be right back...

I'm, sorry, come again? He said yeah, he was going to get... a croissant, and come back, relax, have a shower... ok?  He was starting to leave, and I was still quite stunned... who DOES that? Talk about imposing.  I was like, no, not ok.  He was like, really? I said I'm just not comfortable with having people shower in my place (not to mention, I wanted to relax and enjoy my day!).  He look at me like I'd said I wanted to bathe in shit, and was like, well, can I do my hair (really?) - so he put water on his hair and (finally) left.  On Tuesday, he wanted to get together again, but when I begged out sick, he offered to bring me soup.  No, that's ok.  I've been in Holland... a whole 10 days, we've had 2 dates... pretty sure that's crossing a boundary.  After 2 DTR emails, I thought this shit is too serious for 2 dates, and didn't respond...damn French, you pushy!

Dutchy was probably the best, but there was definitely no romantic interest.  Again with the kids, which was the ice breaker to the conversation, but at the offer to be shown around Rotterdam, I took him up on it.  He was a nice guy, took me to the lake, to a carnival (and even paid for me to shoot the archery and a gun... all I could think was, I could totally be like Katniss...), then to see where the 1st Americans set sail on the Mayflower.  It was an easy night, no pressure - maybe he had the idea he wanted more, but in the end, I just got to learn a little more about Rotterdam and see a few sights.  No harm, no foul.



Have I had any dates since, you ask? Eh, not really.  Maybe I took my shot and it didn't work out, or maybe I just am tired of trying to figure out all the different idiosyncrasies of each country (the French are pushy, the Italians and Spanish are passionate - and emotional, the Dutch are standoffish).  Sheesh, I just miss my good, old fashioned, American boys! Ok.. that is until I went to Iceland...