Leeds
Got into Leeds around 8:30 tonight. The hotel is so-so. I'm sharing a room with someone from the conference who I haven't met yet since he was out when I arrived. However, the room has a queen size bed and a twin, and he (rightfully) claimed the queen. I was hungry for dinner and since the nearest alternative was the TGI Friday's (bleh) across the street, I decided to eat in the hotel restaurant. I had an old stalwart: fish and chips. However, I must be more sensitive to these matters now, because the meal was perceptibly prepackaged and microwaved, even if they did a pretty good job covering that up. Sigh, to be back eating English cuisine. At least the German riesling I had with the meal was satisfying.
The (cute, young) waiter had a slight accent and so I looked at his name tag: Pierre, with a little French flag attached. "Je peux parler français, si vous voulez," I offered. So we talked in French as he delivered my meal and I got to hear a frank opinion as a result: he's been here three months working at the hotel in order to learn English. He gets paid in euros, so the exchange rate is hitting him hard (though not as bad as it's hitting me), and the hotel staff aren't very nice. Leeds is boring and expensive. He'd move to another city in England, but it's too much hassle to get everything (apartment, etc) worked out again, so he's probably moving back to France soon. I told him I didn't blame him. I hated the food (and still do) and find plaint with much the same things he does. If it didn't have such a good university system, I wouldn't have much reason to go to England at all.
Now I feel even worse about leaving France and Christian so soon after our return. We had just gone to the market this morning for the first time in months, and now I'm eating microwaved battered fish with malt vinegar-soaked french fries.
The (cute, young) waiter had a slight accent and so I looked at his name tag: Pierre, with a little French flag attached. "Je peux parler français, si vous voulez," I offered. So we talked in French as he delivered my meal and I got to hear a frank opinion as a result: he's been here three months working at the hotel in order to learn English. He gets paid in euros, so the exchange rate is hitting him hard (though not as bad as it's hitting me), and the hotel staff aren't very nice. Leeds is boring and expensive. He'd move to another city in England, but it's too much hassle to get everything (apartment, etc) worked out again, so he's probably moving back to France soon. I told him I didn't blame him. I hated the food (and still do) and find plaint with much the same things he does. If it didn't have such a good university system, I wouldn't have much reason to go to England at all.
Now I feel even worse about leaving France and Christian so soon after our return. We had just gone to the market this morning for the first time in months, and now I'm eating microwaved battered fish with malt vinegar-soaked french fries.