A General and Nonsensical list of things I have learnt so far about the French and their culture

1. Conditioner barely exists and if it does, it's bloody expensive
2. A Quarter Pounder with Cheese can also come with bacon
3. Burger King doesn't exist 
4. The French have absolutely no shame of stopping you in the middle of the street and asking you for a cigarette
5. Things don't last; in Britain, if you buy credit for your phone or if you want to top up your oyster card you can do so and the money on there will last until you use it. In France the money will only last a week and I have no clue why
6. Most tramps have dogs because if they have dogs they cannot go to prison
7. Duff beer has to be blanked out in the Simpsons because a German beer company won legal rights from Fox to call their beer "Duff". As this beer is sold in France it cannot be advertised on TV as it is illegal to advertise alcohol on tv
8. If you pay more than over 3E for a bottle of wine you are a fool
9. The French aren't very forgiving, if you make a mistake YOU MAKE A MISTAKE
10. A definite lack of humour
11. Red/Ginger hair is very rare over here so when you say to people "my family are Scottish" they reply with "OOOHHH That's why your hair is that colour!" or compare you to the girl from Brave
12. If you say you're from Scotland people are nicer to you
13. Salt and Vinegar doesn't exist as a crisp flavour but bolognese does
14. Halloween isn't really celebrated because it's seen as a marketing scam
15. The metro is always busy. ALWAYS! You're very lucky if you can get a seat.
16. Despite being the fashion capital of the world, there is very little style here
17. They have a shit ton of flavours of jaffa cakes
18. If you're walking around and someone comes up to you and says they've found a ring walk away because it's a scam
19. Girls don't wear a lot of make up here or dress up, even when they go out. 
20. They really fucking love quiz shows
21. The streets smell like weed
22. People give up their seats for children on the metro, what the hell is that about? Why are children allowed on them in the first place?
23. The milk is weird here, its UHT or thick sour yoghurt 
24. There's not a big music scene and most of the music here sucks ass as its all european pop
25. Canadians are weird but French Canadians are even weirder (but I think we all knew that anyway)

There's probably a lot more that I'm forgetting but this is my rant for the moment.

The first day is the hardest

I have finally moved to Paris. My parents and I came over on Wednesday and spent the weekend doing touristy things, watching my mum get confused as to where is where and make us walk around for no reason.

This is a picture of the louvre I gone taken

I've anxious about this whole year abroad thing and still am a bit but I guess it just takes time to settle down. Yesterday I moved into the hostel but for some reason it already feels like a home and that I've been here for ages. Its big with bunk beds, a sink and a tv. In the distance, if you really really squint you can also see the top of the Eiffel Tower which is nice late at night. The best part of it all is that I've found a French replacement for Geordie Shore!!! It's called Les Chilis and they're in Mykonos but this is the 3rd series so I've got some catching up to do.

Today was my first day of work. I can safely say that I have no fucking clue about what to do but I'm sure I'll learn. For the first week or 2 all I have to do is check people in which is complex but I think I can do. My French is piss poor so I'm gonna really really really need to work on that. Hopefully watching TV will help. Bless Julien, he spoke in English the whole of today for me cos he could see how baffled I was by the whole thing but tomorrow he said he's going to start speaking in French to me.  I work 9-5 Monday to Friday which is nice cos I get the weekends off so people can come and visit. Once the first month is out of the way I'm sure my French will be so much better. Hopefully it'll fly by as well! 

Tonight Poppy, Helena and I (all the English girls) are going out for a drink which feels much needed at this point. Whats the chances I'll get so drunk I'll have the worst hangover ever for tomorrow at work. OH WELL!

Stay tuned kids!

Goodbye Cruel World!

Tonight is my last night in the UK. This whole week has been a funny one mostly filled with goodbyes and food poisoning.
We went out to say goodbye to Vee as he is also leaving the country. After wine and more wine and Martini that Katy and I had found at the station I spent Friday night being violently sick. This then resulted in me spending my Saturday being violently sick on the station platform then being more sick whilst sitting on the toilet. OH HELLO FOOD POISONING! Which swiftly moved me around to Sunday. What to say about Sunday.

It was the last day of work. The last day of BP. After 2 long summers working there it was finally time to come to an end. 2 long summers filled with sweat, tears, blood, vomit, piss, shit, laughs, smiles and slut drops. It's taken up so much of my life and I've made some of the best friends ever there (cheesy, I know). Most importantly, I don't think I'll ever have an other manager like Beatriz. Her life lessons and odd stories will haunt me forever. Especially the memory of her picking a splinter out of my finger by poking her name badge at my finger for 20mins.
Retail decided to go to Weatherspoons (as we mostly hate the other wardens) for goodbye drinks. They now do hummus at spoons but it has far too much carrot in it. So Mr Weatherspoon, if you're reading this take the carrot out of the hummus, it's shit compared to the Slug's hummus. As drinks and dinner finished, goodbye's began. Saying goodbye to Katy and Grace was hard, considering Grace was on a mission to make me cry. It all kind of sunk in then that I would be leaving. That work was finally over and everyone was going back to reality. It still doesn't seem real.
A few of us then went on to an other place to see the other wardens which is always awkward as we know none of them and always sit in a corner alone. Kate and I managed to make some fun out of it though by staring at the weird Scottish canteen guy for a while and planning their love life together. As the drinks finished it was time for an other emotional round of goodbyes as Kate and I departed to get on the tube. Once at Kings Cross this left me with an other big goodbye. Kate. BUT as she reminded me, we will all be seeing each other soon in December (hopefully) so it shan't be too long until I see all their pretty faces again.

So that was my goodbye to London, and today I had my goodbye to Gravesend. My bags are pack and the tickets are booked. The last goodbye will be Monty, easily the hardest of all.
Goodnight London, and goodnight bloggers.

One week to go!

So this time next week I shall be in Paris. I will have packed my bags, gotten on the Eurostar and pulled into Gare du Nord. I don't start work until the Sunday but my parents are taking me out a few days early, I think they just want a bit of a holiday to be honest. This is so so scary. Thinking about it today made me want to be sick or burst out into tears. Saying goodbye to the dog is going to be the worst. I keep thinking it's not going to happen. Tomorrow, I'll wake up and it'll be the beginning of training again and I won't have wasted my summer working. There's still so much I have to do!
The thing I most worried about in all honesty is having to speak to people in French in a business environment. Although, by the sounds of it this place is super super lax so I don't think it will be that bad. Big shout out to Poppy though who's been telling me everything and reassuring me. It's nice to know someone's out there. Seeing Mikey go all the way out to San Diego and all my 4th year housemates livin la vida loca in Italia really makes me want to be there now though. Even if I hate it I think I'll just man up and do it (easier said than done). I've braved worse situations in Hull. Cleaning Fitzroy Street in 1st year has got to be the most gross thing I've done. No place could ever be as bad as that was (sorry boys but the mice were grim). I think I would just regret giving up the opportunity to live in Paris much more than the regret of living there if I hated it, and I think Ellen would punch me in the face if I gave up.
I'm viewing the next year as a series of time markers if I do hate it, to make it seem like it's going fast. In reality, the year will go by pretty damn quick. So here they are:

Nov 2012: The one month mark will have pasted/Eve's birthday
Dec 2012: Poppy leaves (I think)/BPSO bants/Christmas/Auntie Pauline visits
Jan 2013: New Years
Feb 2013: My 21st!!!
March 2013: The arrival of the Wigga's, Norie and Gemma
April 2013: Leave Paris/San Diego (if I have dolla)
May 2013: Start work in Biarritz
June 2013: Dad and Auntie Pauline's 110th birthday
July 2013: Sam's wedding
August 2013: Finish work in Biarritz
September 2013: Bestival (?)/LAST FRESHERS!

So the next year is going to be very busy. I'm also hoping to fit in a visit to Rome to see Abbie and Gemma (if they'll have me),  a trip back t'ull to visit everyone, maybe a trip to Berlin to visit Eve and Ellen and now, potentially, visits to Canada. Busy busy busy!

You stay classy Blogger.

Why aye pet!

So I thought I'd finally jump on the year abroad blog band wagon, and what better time to start than mine and Ben Hand's leaving party. Neither of us leave until October but it was pay day and a good excuse to go and get mortal. It was just going to be a normal night until I had the most genius, drunk idea of making it Geordie Shore themed and bullied Ben into agreeing with it. Needless to say it was an eventful night full of drinking, fake tan and slut dropping.

The night before I had donned my fake tan which was patchy and bronzey, and left marks on the toilet seats when I went to pee which became an odd nightmare. As I was on the late shift that night I had little time to Geordiefy myself and was constantly being told to hurry up by Sam. Half an hour and a lot of dark foundation later we were on our way to Leicester Square to hit up Yates, the chaviest, most disgusting bar in London. It's full of people in suits just finishing work, old women in leopard print bodycon that probably belongs to their daughters out on the prowl for a toy boy, bald men in done up polo shirts thinking they're "lads"and girls tarted up to the nines. At first we thought the drinks were rather expensive as a double gin and tonic with a tequila shot cost us £12 but a bottle of wine was £8 so everyone started cracking on and having a good time.

As the wine started to flow the need to slut drop began so we made our way down to the dingy Yates dance floor to haver our lungs filled with smoke. We saw lots of people Tashing on and something even better. A STRIPPER POLE!

2 bottles of wine later and a few drunk heart to hearts meant that it was unfortunately time to catch the last train home. So Katy and I decanted all the remainder of the wine into an empty bottle and stole it for the train journey home. OR SO WE THOUGHT! We wanted a drunk burger king but the line was too long so we got a sandwich and sat down on the train to drink our wine. Then it began. The ugly side of alcohol. Katy was sick all the way home, on a very pack train. Despite how squeemish I am I managed to eat my sandwich whilst holding open Katy's vomit bag and then I had to clear up whole chunks of noodles. 

So overall, it was a fairly successful leaving night. I hope Handbags had just as an enjoyable evening. It makes me sad to think that that's going to be one of my last night out in London. Nothing can beat London, it's atmosphere, it's nightlife, it's culture, it's everything. I hope Paris can live up to it.

ONLY 2 WEEKS LEFT!!!