With only 2 weeks or so until I jet off, I decided I needed one more getaway to remove myself from all the lesson planning dilemmas and house hunting failures. So, Plymouth it was. My boyfriend goes to the University there and seeing as it was going to be sunny and I love the coast, we travelled across the country a week before term starts to have a mini Brit-break.
I’ve only been once before now, but I love Plymouth, and I thought I loved the west country in general (mainly the accent), but actually the distinct dialect of the region now irritates the hell outta me. One morning, I spent 3 hours listening to a group of builders next door constantly laughing this deep, vibrating, evil laugh. Now, as many friends/family members/strangers will tell you, I have a ridiculous laugh so I may not be one to judge… But this was on a whole other level of annoying. Mixed in with their farmer accent, I have never heard anything so irritating. Anyway, enough about laughter…
We had the best week; roaming the cobbled streets of the barbican, sitting by a castle on top of a hill gazing at the glistening English channel, and devouring cream teas amongst the older generation in a vintage style tea room. It was such a welcomed change from the crowded streets of Nottingham and the pikey-laden streets of Kent, that I now don’t want to be in Kent or France. I want to be amongst annoying accents and equally annoying laughter as well as beautiful views in the west country with my boyfriend, please.
No comments:
Post a Comment