I have been in Nottingham almost 5 weeks now… and Spring has certainly shone the sun here in this medieval part of England, and the fields are scattered with daffodils, freesias and crocuses. Being rather obsessed with daffodils, I keep wondering if it’s the done thing to pick wild daffodils, but I haven’t seen anyone else doing it. And when you can get 5 bunches for 1 pound from a street vendor, why bother!
It sometimes hard to believe, being an Aussie, that I’m living next to this castle, the remains of which have been here for more than 1000 years… and the modern ‘castle’ or rather rich man’s retreat has been here since the 17th century.
One of the things I’m learning to love about Nottingham are its network of canals that link up with the Trent River. There’s plenty of scope for walking, cycling or ambling along next to these narrow ditches of water frequented by low long wooden boats, generally piled high with rusted out bicycles and other various pieces of junk!
Being in the heart of Robin Hood territory there’s a road called Maid Marion’s Way and another called Robin Hood’s Way. Unfortunately, they don’t live up to their romantic names. Maid Marion’s Way is a 4-laned road that cuts the castle off from the town and which is lined with ugly high rise hotels and office blocks.
But the heart of Nottingham at the Market Place is a hive of activity and surrounded with mostly lovely old shops and buildings. At the weekend, people stream through this area in droves fossicking around the shops and cafes. Children play in the water fountains, even though to me it’s still a chilly 19 degrees.
I’ve learned my way around and where to find what I need in what shops. However, unlike Australia, when you do go into a shop here people stand back and don’t come and offer to help. But, I now take the full on frontal approach and go to someone who looks knowledgeable as soon as I enter a store… can’t stand wandering aimless and bewildered.
Since being here, I’ve joined a local socialising club called Meet Up. My first event was a murder mystery dinner where I played the sleazy French male host (not enough men attending, of course). It was at this dinner that a women who had visited Australia exclaimed about how much she loved it. “There’s just one thing I can’t stand,” she told me. “When you go into shops in Australia, people come up and harass you; I just wish they’d leave me alone”.
Horses for courses, I guess.
(2099)