On My First Days In St. Ives

August 29, 2008

I’ve successfully moved into St. Ives! I spent the morning at the Bed and Breakfast just packing the last of my things up, and then lounged around. Karen’s daughter, who is just starting at SVC this year, came and served me my breakfast this morning. I think she must have asked her mother if she could do it, because she was clearly trying to see who I was, so that she would be able to recognize me once school starts. She was a cute little thing! I’ll try to remember her face, and smile and wave at her if I should see her around campus.

I scarfed down the breakfast, since I hadn’t ate dinner the night before. I couldn’t eat all of it though, so I ate what I could. I was very tired still, from staying up late talking to my friends and family. It was worth it though! In fact, I was pleasantly surprised to find I could steal an internet signal when I got home from London. It was such a relief, because I do miss talking to my loved ones on a daily basis. I spent most of Thursday afternoon and evening chatting on MSN, and watching the television. After breakfast this morning, since I was still tired, I decided to lay down for a bit of a “morning siesta”. I slept from 10 until 12, which was a little longer than I had expected! I woke up, went on the internet for about half an hour, and then gathered all my stuff to leave. Karen and I had discussed what I owed her that morning, so I opened my purse to get the money out for her. Unable to find my bundle of cash, I soon came to realize that I had left it in my suitcase, which Frank had taken with him to the house in St. Ives the night before. Cursing myself, I debated what to do. Karen had told me after breakfast that she and a friend were going on a daytrip, and that she wouldn’t be back before I left. I searched my brain, trying to think of the best thing for me to do, then decided to give her whatever cash I had in my wallet, and write her a note. I had only 60 pounds in my wallet, which is just less than half of what I owe her. I searched high and low for a piece of paper, and finding one penned her a little note:

“Karen, I didn’t realize it last night, but I accidentally sent along all my money in my suitcase, to my place in St. Ives last night. I don’t have all my money with me, and therefore can only pay you 60 pounds. I will stop by on Monday after work to pay the rest of what I owe you. I feel like a sodding idiot. So sorry! Krista”

Hopefully she isn’t too mad! It was not my intention at all to not immediately pay her! I truly do feel like a retard for forgetting my money. Had I been in a real hotel, I doubt I would have gotten away with it. I also provided her with my cell number, so that she can call me if she wants to. Bah!

I took the 1:12pm bus from Swavesey to St. Ives, and upon arrival called Frank to see if he could pick me up. He was free, so he swung around to fetch me. I was glad of it, because while the walk to the house is not far, it was not something I relished having to do with my luggage, even in its reduced form. Once we arrived at the house, he gave me my key, told me that my rent would be due every month on the 29th, and then let me go and get myself sorted. I quickly went to work on unpacking my things, and setting up shop. I quickly started to devise a list of things that I needed to buy for the room; little items that would make it more “mine”. After getting the majority of it out, I decided to put unpacking on hold for awhile, and head to the city center to work out my bank stuff and get some groceries. The walk to city center wasn’t long at all, about 15 minutes maximum (if that).

I went to the bank first, just in case they had wonky hours and closed really early. I went up to the tellers first, since I wasn’t entirely sure who I had to see. I explained what I had to do, and they told me I should go to customer services, which was to my left. I thanked the ladies, and headed to the sign that read “Customer Services”. There was a small desk beside the wall under the sign, with a computer on it. I figured I just had to wait there, and someone would come take care of me. I stood there for about 10 minutes, and no one showed up. I started to feel a bit foolish, so I went back to the tellers and asked if there was someone specific I had to see. They laughed at me, and told me to walk around the corner into one of the offices, if the man was not with a customer. I thanked them again, feeling like a total dumbass. This time I walked around the corner, and a young man, probably around my age, popped his head out of one of the offices.
“I’m sorry, do you need some help?” he asked.
“Oh, yes please…” I said. I went into his office, and had a seat opposite him at this desk. I handed him the form from Dream and HSBC that I had received at training, and explained that an account was already open for me. All I needed him to do was fax a copy of my passport to the HSBC office in Halifax, and the whole thing would be settled. He read the form, then took my passport and copied it, signed it, and then faxed it off. He was very friendly, talking to me about where I was from, why I had come, and a few other things. We sorted out my new address, so that they wouldn’t send my new bank card to Canada (because that was the address currently in the system!), and then we were finished! I shook his hand, and told him I would see him again soon.

My next stop was the “Warehouse Clearance Store”, which Frank had told me previously was where I could find “cheap” stuff. I walked in, and instantly recognized myself as being in what we would call a dollar store in Canada. I wandered around, picking up a mirror for over my makeup desk in my room, and some hangers. Since we only have one bathroom in the house, I figured I wouldn’t tie it up doing my hair and makeup; that I could do in my room, with the help of a mirror. Obviously it being from the dollar store makes it cheap and plastic-y, but it does the job just fine!

The final stop was the grocery store. I was a bit annoyed to find that the store didn’t have any carts. All they had was the hand basket. I knew I wouldn’t be able to fit all my stuff in the basket, so I hoped and prayed they wouldn’t mind if I had to stick a few items in the bags I had brought with me. I knew it would look like I was stealing, but obviously I wasn’t. Anyways, it was a small shop, so it didn’t take me long. I picked up a pack of tomatoes, which were VERY tiny compared to the tomatoes back home. All they had were the tiny vine ripened tomatoes, no hot houses etc. It definitely made me miss home a little, especially considering I had planted some tomatoes in the summer, and never got to eat them. BOO! I also bought a pack of peppers, three pieces of chicken breast, some hummus, a small loaf of bread, a pack of buns, some sandwich meat, yogurt, cheesestrings (so glad they have these too!), curry and madras paste, basmati rice, ravioli, a can of Ragu (they didn’t have a lot of selection for sauce, which made me miss Presidents Choice very much. I love their Spicy Red Pepper sauce), a bottle of Tabasco (the Habanera one, extra hot. No Franks Red Hot to be found, sadly. If you want to send me a bottle, I’d be thrilled!), a box of Orange Juice (“with fruit bits”, which I can only assume refers to the pulp), some “chips”, “crisps”, two boxes of battered fish (they were on sale), chicken nuggets, a pizza, and a bottle of wine (for 4 pounds….ridiculously cheap!!!). All in all it came to 50 pounds total. I don’t like to think in terms of converting anymore, because then my modest groceries amounted to $100 Canadian. If had spent that much at Zehrs I would have came home with a bigger haul….but that’s neither here nor there.

I fit the groceries into the two bags I had brought, and headed out. Using re-useable bags is very common over here, much more so than in Canada, where it is just catching on. No one uses the plastic bags anymore, and if you do get them, they encourage you to re-use THOSE as well.

The walk home was pretty rough, because my two bags were quite heavy. I was relieved when I finally made it home. I was also starving, and decided to cook up the pizza straight away. Tackling the oven was something else… It was very tiny, and it did not have a degree gauge. It just had numbers. When I checked the pizza box for instructions I found that this is pretty standard, because it told me to “pre-heat the oven to dial 7/345 degrees”. So I started the oven, which is gas, and put it on dial 7. I could actually SEE the flames shooting up the back of the oven, which was a tad odd. We have a gas range at home, and I’ve never been able to see the flames in the oven. It worried me slightly; I didn’t want my pizza to cook unevenly as a result. However, I decided not to worry about it, and popped the pizza in. I pulled it out when it was done, ravishingly hungry. It was decent enough, though not what my craving had wanted. I ate most of it, leaving three pieces for the fridge. Breakfast, mmmmm.

At around 6pm, my roommate Victoria came home. She is beautiful! She’s tall, I’d say about Sheena’s height, very thin, with long legs! She’s also blonde (though not naturally), with beautiful big eyes, and a pleasant happy looking face. She’s Ukrainian, and she doesn’t think her English is very good. I thought she spoke quite well though! However, I worry that I talk to fast, and sometimes she can’t understand me, so I will make an effort to talk slowly to her. She seemed really happy to have a girl roommate, since I think she’s been living with her boyfriend Roland and Frank for awhile now. She asked me if I liked to shop, and I told her I did. She smiled, clapped her hands, and said that we would have to go to Cambridge soon, to do some shopping. I was fine with that, as I do need to pick up some new clothes and shoes. She also told me that she didn’t like fashion in England, as it’s too casual for her. I laughed a bit, as I find it is very similar to Canadian fashion. I’m not finding that we’re seasons behind in Canada, it’s mostly very similar. We chatted for awhile, and then I went upstairs to finish my unpacking, and to decorate my room.

At about 8, my other roommate and Victoria’s boyfriend, Roland (I believe that’s what it is), came home. He is Russian, and also speaks with a heavy accent; however his English is much better than Victoria’s. He reminds me a lot of Tony, in that he’s built much the same way; he’s a buff fellow, but with a teddy bear mentality. He was also very very friendly, and went out of his way to try and make me feel at home. He told me that he was having two friends over, and that they were going to go out drinking, and asked me to come along. Eager to see what the night life in St. Ives was like, and wanting to make friends with my roomies and possibly their friends, I agreed. I quickly got myself ready, and then joined Roland downstairs to sip on some wine, while we chatted. It was a very nice night! I think that I will get along just fine with the two of them; they are very friendly and warm! Roland also asked me to try and help Victoria with her English, which I said I would do. She really is quite good already. She just needs to speak it more often! Their friend Paulo came over at about 10:30, and at 11 we hopped in Roland’s car and drove downtown. They didn’t know what club they wanted to take me to, but finally decided upon going to one called Music (I think, I can’t really remember that well now ha ha). It reminded me a lot of the Palace/Trappers. It had the same kind of atmosphere and music. The bar was two floors, with a long bar at the front both upstairs and downstairs. Upstairs had places to sit and drink, while downstairs was generally a large dance floor. The top floor was open in the middle, so that you could stand around the railing and look down on the people dancing in the middle. We went upstairs first, and watched people dance. Soon we decided to sit and chat, which we did for awhile. However, Victoria and I soon got the itch to dance, so we went down to the dance floor. The boys came down, but did not dance. They stood off to the side, watching us to make sure none of the men tried any funny business.

While dancing, I noticed a super hot fellow. He had longer hair, kind of like Ethan’s, cut and styled very nicely. You can really only pull of that look if you have fine hair, and he definitely did. I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but I have a weakness for guys with a stylish shaggy doo. He was also dressed in a very trendy looking pair of jeans (nice jeans on a man is so hot), and a white graphic T that hugged him in all the right places. He completed the look with a leather belt. His ass looked fabulous. In my less-than-shy state I shot him many seductive looks (or at least what I felt were seductive looks). I held his attention a couple of times, and he smiled at me. I smiled back. However, dancing doesn’t allow you much time to flirt, as you’re constantly warding off gross losers who try to grab your body. Victoria and I spent much of the time doing “the lesbian tango”, spinning each other around and away from creepers who came up behind us. A couple of times Roland came down to the dance floor to shoo the unwanted men away. It was nice, because most of the daring boys were way out of our league! A lot of guys also came up to tell us that we were “beautiful girls”, which was a nice ego boost. Towards the end of the night, right before 2am when they shut the club down, I spotted my sexy fellow again. I made eye contact and smiled, and this time he came over! AH! He asked me my name, and when he heard my accent he asked where I was from. I told him I was from Canada. His next question was one I have been getting a lot…
“Why are you in St. Ives?!” he asked.
I explained that I had just moved to St. Ives that afternoon, and that I was a teacher in Swavesey. He laughed, and then asked how long I was going to be in St. Ives for.
I told him I was going to be around for at least a year, which seemed to make him happy.
The lights came on at this point though, and suddenly everyone pushed for the door. Victoria came up behind me, and we left the bar in our group of four. I lost sight of my sexy man, unfortunately. BOO!

Once outside, we stood around in the alley with a bunch of other bar goers, talking and figuring out what we wanted to do next. There are clubs in the area that open from 2 – 6, however I think both Victoria and Roland were tired, so we decided to grab some food and then head home. I spotted the sexy man again, as they were discussing where to eat. He was standing on the opposite side of the alley, and he smiled at me. I winked at him, and he beckoned for me to come over to him. I walked over, and we chatted a bit. He asked me how old I was, so I told him I was 23. I went to ask him in return, but one of his friends came up and told me I was “hot”. Then the friend asked if I was into “threeways”. I was offended, and shouted “NO! What kind of girl do you think I am?”
I turned to walk away, totally disgusted. However, Tom (as I had found out his name by this point) touched my arm and told me not to judge him on his friends’ behaviour. I laughed, and told him we couldn’t be responsible for our friends’ drunken behaviour, so of course I wasn’t judging him.
Then he asked if he could get my phone number, because he’d like to call me some time.
“Really?!” I asked.
“Yah, for sure!” he said. “I’d like to ring you next weekend, if you’d give me your number!”
He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, handing it to me. It was an Ericsson similar to mine, but an older model, so I knew how to use it. I added myself as a contact, and told him that in case I put the number in wrong, I had put my full name down so that he could search and add me on Facebook to get my number again. I think I put the right number though, so I hope he does call. He asked for my phone, and entered his number as well; If I don’t hear from him in a weeks time, I might be ballsy enough to text his phone. We’ll see! I hope he makes the first move though, as I definitely hate doing that. It’s so awkward! But he’s so HOT…and it was SUCH an ego boost to have been able to get the ONE guy I’d found attractive at the bar to ask for my number! Score one for Krista!!!! Once we’d exchanged numbers, and chatted a bit more, both my new friends and his friends were eager to be off, so we parted ways.

We went to a place that was full of other drunken people, which was serving American food. I was desperate for a poutine, but since those are unheard of hear I ordered a burger and fries, as well as a can of diet Coke. The fries (oops, chips) were decent enough, as was the burger. The whole thing cost me only 3 pounds, so I was pretty pleased with that. I shoveled it all down quite quickly, to the amazement of Roland and Paulo. Then I gulped down the pop, which lead to a rather loud burp. Embarrassed, I covered my mouth, saying I was sorry. The boys laughed and laughed, saying that Canadian girls were such “ladies”. Seems I’ve given Canada a good name already….not!

Walking back to the car, Victoria took me aside and told me that Paulo had been sad when he’d seen me talking to Tom; apparently he had a bit of a crush on me. I cursed to myself, unsure of what it was about me that endeared me to nearly EVERYONE! Paulo was nice enough, and certainly good looking, but he doesn’t do it for me. He reminds me a lot of that one guy Caily dated…the guy she brought to Lindsey’s reception. Jay? I believe that was his name. He’s Polish, and his English isn’t great either. Often while talking to me he asked me for the words he was searching for, to finish his sentences. Again, this is not a big deal, and really doesn’t factor into my not liking him. I’m not into him because he seems like he’d be one of those guys that falls hard for you, and then becomes a bit of a jealous rage-a-holic. I don’t like to make snap judgments of people, but that’s definitely the vibe I get from him. I will try to keep that on the friend level. It was hard though, as he also tried to get into bed with me. However, I snuggled under my covers, and feigned passing out. Eventually he stopped trying to talk to me, and fell asleep himself. I’m a bit worried at what Victoria and Roland will think, since he did sleep in my bed…however, I know that nothing happened, nor ever would, and will easily explain that to them, should they ask. However, I think Paulo is enough of a gentleman that he’ll just tell them the truth.

So now it is Saturday morning, and I’m writing this as I wait to have a shower. I had a lot of fun last night, and am glad I live where I do. I think we will get along well, all of us. Tonight we might go into Cambridge for a night on the town; we shall see!

Cheers!