Brackenbury Tales

This is how it all began...



Autumn. Saturday. 24 September 2005. Durham, England.


Armed with a 1-inch thick folder packed with information sheets, my AA-route planner printouts, a cup of English tea and a jammie donut, I headed for Durham - my home for the next one year. Everything was going according to plan, not once did we get lost during the car journey from South Yorkshire to County Durham, until, err...we reached Durham. We knew we need to get to Old Dryburn Way in Durham but the AA route planner did not recognise the road name so we thought we would ask people when we get into Durham. We did. 5 times. No luck. Nobody's heard of Old Dryburn Way. So we decided to go buy a "Durham A-Z" map & city guidebook. And that we did - how clever! Only problem - Old Dryburn Way's not listed in the list of road names. Hmmm...maybe the university made a mistake? I rang the college office. No answer. Of course, it's Saturday - nobody works on Saturday...except...police officers! So we headed for the Police Headquarters. I told the police officer feeding fishes in the pond outside the headquarters (yes, Durham's a safe city with very little crime so police officers spend most their time feeding fishes, gardening...) my problem in locating my accommodation and he replied, "Oh yes, the new college accommodation, yes, everyone knows where that is, you can even see it from the main road...! Why didn't you stop and ask somebody?"...hmmm...



Apparently, I was not the only one who was not able to locate Brackenbury House. For one of us, it took a rather unpleasant taxi ride (being kicked out of the taxi with heavy suitcases in the middle of the street for 'wasting the taxi-driver's time') and a desperate plea for help from big burly security officers. But we all made it to Brackenbury House somehow.



I like the suspense of not knowing who you will be living with. It's intriguing. Secretly, I wanted to be spend my year pretty much alone (too tiring to make new friends knowing you will part in a year's time). Obviously, God had other plans - I just wished He had informed me earlier!

Over the next couple of days, I would meet:


Georgia: Greek. A crazy Greek but she is great at giving massages.
Alida: Kazakh. She spends a lot of time in the shower and she knows where to buy cheap food & groceries.
Olaf: German. He doesn't like my steamed vegetables. Drives us to Tesco.
Matthieu: French. Cheeky french who is too tall. He likes pink and he makes nice apple sauce & crumble.
Jean-Pierre: French/Martiniquais. He spices up our lives (literally). Always on the phone (he claims it's his fiancee).
Alena: Czech. She thinks we drink too little wine. Makes the world's best goulash.
Eva: Czech. Looks cool and sophisticated but plays with soft, stuffed animals. Our official photographer.






Lynn. 5 October 2005.