[A note of explanation to the question: Where Have You Gone?! I got a couple days
behind in the blog before my niece and her family arrived to vacation in
Grimsby, after which I’ve had the privilege of being with them 24/7 ever since.
Being a part of an active family, with three little guys, has put a real damper
to setting aside time to be alone and write. Ya know, it’s tough. Wink, wink!
Anyway, sorry for the void. Please know, I am sprinting to catch up.]
Set off another alarm today. (There has gotta be some little imp out there, just waiting for me to show up, at any given
space and time, in order for him to orchestrate my humiliation. Maybe I really
am on Candid Camera!) I had gone into Marks & Spencer (the place to be for
a guaranteed sanitary and private bathroom experience. As anyone who’s familiar
with England knows, Marks & Spencer is their equivalent of Nordstrom -- in
other words, uptown.) to use the facilities. Instead of depressing the handle
of the door that lead into the bathroom area, I made the blunder of trying to
push open the emergency exit. Gosh, that door looks an awful lot like the door
that leads to the toilet area! Both have colorful symbols up over the door, and
they’re in corresponding corners of the same floor. Easy mistake for anyone to
make –– especially if you’re not paying close attention, and . . . especially
if you’re me!
Oh, man, I am just a fish out of water around here
– a fact I get reminded of every day. Sometimes the pitch of the learning curve
seems awfully steep. At times it can really get you down. My support system -- my
friends, Carol at the Co-Operative (Travel Agency) and Maureen at Lloyds -- has
turned out to be a lifesaver.
A fish story: one day as I was strolling home from The
Market with my produce finds, I saw a gent in front of me who had something
light in color, with a round, smooth appearance visible through his smallish
plastic bag. Perceiving that he had come from the direction of the market, I
asked, Mushroom?! (By the solid shape I thought I was seeing, I had deduced that
it was either a nice, sumptuous Portobello or perhaps a large, white onion.)
No, he chuckled, wet fish.
What fish? I asked, assuming he was speaking of a
certain type of fish that I was unaware of. After several more back and forths,
the true answer was revealed: turns out “wet fish” is the term for raw, fresh
fish, as opposed to cooked fish. (Well, duh!) Had a good inward laugh -- not
that I thought he was humourless, rather because I didn’t think he’d have
thought my epiphany was anything especially profound in his everyday experience.
The Sabbath past, time once again to get out the shopping
bag. One detail I have consistently thought interesting is that no matter the day,
or hour of the day, the town center is always teaming with people. And I don’t
mean purposefully marching down the street on their way to work, as you might
imagine in a large city -- like say, New York -- but throngs of people of every
age and gender, going here or there, milling about or sitting on benches -- in
the middle of a week day. (I’ve had occasion to be in the Provo Towne Center
midday (when we were doing the photo competition because I figured that would
be the one place I could observe a number of people in action), and was
mystified to discover that there was hardly anyone there. Seriously -- I felt
like a stocker, chasing down the random person that I could find. Very
embarrassing!) It never ceases to amaze me. Who are all these able-bodied people
and why aren’t they at work?!
You may be amazed to know that, having gathered my
things in a fairly fast fashion in anticipation of my trip abroad (and what may
be for as long as a year), I have found that I forgot only THREE necessary items:
a comb, a pencil erasure, and a calculator. My heck, WHO can live without the
likes of these important accoutrements to any smart woman’s repertoire?! But never
fear, there’re always your friendly Pound World and Only 99p stores at one’s
ready disposal! (As long as you get there before 5-5:30pm, at which time
practically the whole world -- of shopping -- seems to close up shop and goes
home. You would think the entire town had shut down till the next business day,
until you begin to notice several hours later couples and singles sporadically drifting
back into the downtown -- pubs (no
deficit here) filling up for the evening pub scene. (I have firsthand knowledge
of this phenomenon because I used to be camped out in McDonalds on a regular
basis, sometimes late into the evening – but never after dark.) Oh, man, you
should hear the melee going on into the wee hours of the night on a weekend
night
– straggling groups of people staggering vociferously past my window on their
way home. Sue Spencer mentioned to me that binge drinking was one of
the town’s biggest challenges -- not
only for teenagers, but adults as well.)
As a side note: I lost my earplugs on the flight – another
indispensable item in my world, and had to replace them. The particular type I
require unfortunately are NOT to be found at the dollar store. (Er, oops, I
mean the pound store. Man, it’s going to take a long time to get that distinction
down!)
The woman with whom I live has indicated to me, in
so many words, on a number of occasions, that she feels that people who shop in
stores the likes of Marks & Spencer’s are somewhat uppity. Certainly the
assumption that one is able to purchase a tomato for a much better price at The
Market vegetable stalls – and much tastier, without a doubt -- would be a safe
bet. One afternoon, on one of those rare occasions when I had remembered to
bring my own sandwich to town, I suddenly had the urge for some sort of
vegetable to accompany my lunch. As it was an off day for Market Hall, I
decided to go into M & S in Freshney Place, the closest thing to a grocer
in the downtown area -- with the exception of The Market -- to see how much I
was willing to pay. Having decided upon a cucumber, what a surprise it was to
discover that the very cellophane-wrapped, English variety I had often seen at the
vegetable stands was exactly the same --
and actually a little cheaper -- right
here in this “snobbish” department store. Now that was an eye opener! And not
something you’d know if you weren’t willing to peer outside the box – something
I am working hard at making a high priority myself. I hadn’t been out specifically
to do any comparison shopping; I just wanted something to add to my lunch -- and
I wanted it now! And just see what I discovered. Never too old to learn new
tricks, I always say!
Another revelatory observation I’ve recently made stems
from the realization that there is a marked difference in the appearance of clientele
between those who frequent M & S and ASDA (the closest thing to Walmart –
in fact they share the same owner) and those who more often are found at Iceland,
99p, or charity shops. The first time I
went into ASDA’s I thought I had stepped through space into my own local
Walmart. The way people were dressed, their hair, their interactions, were so
much more contemporary. In contrast to the people I had been hobnobbing with
along Victoria Street in the downtown area these last few weeks, they were similar
to what I was familiar with back home, Whereas I had felt many times in Grimsby
like I had been transported to an earlier period of time (assuredly what gives it its unique charm), I
now felt propelled forward to the present day and time. And who could have
guessed it would have taken a trip to ASDA to initiate this epiphany?! [By way
of confession, I must admit that I, in fact, fall somewhere between these two
distinct categories -- as I frequent a wide breadth of shops, frequently!]
Photos_
1- Olympic Google doodle
2- fish out of water
3- streaming shoppers
4- £World logo
5- typical M & S shopper
6- typical shopper to The Market, PoundWorld &
charity shops -- more contraband
{Oh, the word “cheeky” was created with me in mind!}
