Oh, so much to tell and so little time! It’s not that I’m a very bad blogger, well, actually I am, but that’s not the point. The point is that I still don’t have internet in my room (my own choice because it’s ridicuolously expensive and the longer I wait the cheaper it becomes to hook up) and that I spent the last week locked up in my room writing essays that have to be handed in the end of November. I’ve still got loads to write and I’m being sensible and writing them at home instead of the library because there I’ll only be on MSN, Facebook and Youtube….Yes, I’m one of those slackers who consider checking their latest tagged photos more important than writing that paragraph concerning Oriental influences on Irish Colonial representation (sounds well interesting dunnit?)

Anyhoo, a good many things happened since my last update (they’d better have, if since Halloween last October nothing noteworthy happened to me I’d be a right bore).
First of all, Bart came over last weekend, we and a couple of friends had a properly good time roaming the streets of Liverpool in search of fun and ending up in a bar where some sort of little new wave electro techno band screeched out the last notes of what they called their brand new single. We had fun though, and those who are on Facebook will be able to bear witness. The other highlight of last week was Guy Fawkes Day (Remember Remember the 5th of November --Those who’ve seen V for Vendetta will know what I’m talking about, those who do not, go rent/download that film right now. If you are physically unable to do so, I’ll just copy past the accompanying link--http://www.bonfirenight.net/) which meant Bonfire night throughout England, including Liverpool. Many a little lad here in the Pool couldn’t wait till the 5th, and fireworks had been going off around here for days. But finally at 7.30, in Sefton Park (which again is an agonising 30 min from my house, everything is so far here! I miss Holland in that respect…and bikes, Oh, woe on me, how I miss my bike) a display of fireworks made the long walk and the cold worth while. Beautiful bangs and splashes all set on some cool classical music. It was really wicked and me and my friends were glad we were there to see it.

Then the week passed quietly until we went on our second International Trip to see some of England’s beautiful countryside. I’d very much enjoyed going to the Lake District so was looking forward to this new adventure. My excitement only grew when I realised that this trip was destined for the little town of Haworth, the village in which the famous Brontë sisters spent most of their lives and had written those little gems of novels that everyone knows. Wuthering Heights is thought to be set close to the Haworth Moors, and it doesn’t take much imagination to see Jane Eyre walking around those hills and sheep that lined the countryside. We got off in the centre of the town and walked the little path that Emily Brontë is said to have walked just before she died. We visited the site of their burial and the church of their father’s Parsonage. Best of all, me and Julia went to visit their house! It was incredible to be in this little cottage that housed one of the most famous literary families of England. Surrounded by trees and a gorgeous graveyard it is situated on the top of the small hill that makes up most of Haworth. For four pounds you could go inside, and of course we wouldn’t pass on such an opportunity. (Awkwardly, me and Julia were the only ones to show this sort of enthusiasm for what I think is truly important English heritage) So, there we stood, in the kitchen were Anne used to study her German, in the bedroom where Charlotte’s dress was on display and most impressing of all, in the drawing room where the three sisters not only were said to work on their writing every night, but also where Emily died on the very sofa that was still set in the right hand corner of the room. Quite an experience.

Oh, and Heathcliff was from Liverpool!

Then, as a slight anticlimax we went on to visit two museums where I managed to pet some gigantic Shire horses and got to be on a picture with a genuine Dalek.

Another anticlimax happened just a few nights back. In the UK, or at least in Liverpool, a great hoopla is made when the city turns on the Christmas Lights all over town. This is preceded by a sort of big deal with real celebrities that no-one outside has heard of (mind you, Atomic Kitten’s Natasha Hamilton (is that her name?) was there to sing a few of her new ‘hit’ singles) that get together with Santa to flick a switch. This time it took from 5 to 6 for all the artists to do their little bit and all that time me and a couple of friends were stood in the icy wind, rain and general freeziness waiting for the bloody lights to be switched on. We figured it’d be worth to wait for the actual switch on business instead of fleeing inside the nearest pub to warm up over a pint. When finally, after waiting for Santa to abseil off a building and getting stuck, they got to the actual moment that we’d all been waiting for. What we’d actually got were a few ickle little lights that flickered a little bit and some soggy fireworks that tried to make an impression while the light display dispended all over St. Georges hall (mind you, that’s a huge building) refused to turn on and left us high and dry. Or wet. Right…. We eventually managed to get home and had our tea which was a hundred time nicer than bloody Aston Road or lights on strike.

However, even though Christmas is still a long way away (whatever the window display at M&S leads us to believe) it’s getting a lot colder here in Livertown I’m very glad I bought a long warm coat before I left the continent (that’s what ‘we’ call it here) because it seems like the wind has it in for England. It’s already snowing in Newcastle and large parts of the South…and even though Liverpool is not big on the snow thing (some malarkey concerning a gulfstream) I predict a long and cold looking winter ahead of me! But at least now, after Sunday, there are pretty lights lining the streets of the city centre to brigten up these dark and gloomy days a bit. Let the Christmas shopping commence!

Charlotte's hair is in the envelope, Emily's in the braid and Anne's in the brooch.