arriving in the UK

a couple of months ago, it dawned upon me that going to the UK for six weeks would be something of a challenge because i'd have to cook for myself for that whole time. but towards the end of last year, my concerns shifted towards how i was going to actually arrive at my destination.

the first part was smooth enough: get on the right plane, make it through immigration and customs, find the national express coach, get on the right bus, get off at the right stop. the next bits were slightly more challenging: wait for a taxi at a deserted stand on a cold night, wheel luggage bags through the hospital's revolving doors, and wheel said 35+kg of luggage around the hospital site trying to find desired block of flats. i met a co-elective student (also from Australia!! hooray), and quite gladly let him lead the way. i had enough difficulty trying to wheel my bags through the unforgiving sidewalks. i think one of my wheels is quite damaged already.

when we arrived at the apartment, we saw that the other elective students had arrived already. and were informed that the kettles were not working (instant noodle plan foiled), and that the shower was not working either. and also that we should knock on random people's door asking to use their shower. at this stage i'd been traveling for close to 20 hours, so not showering was not really an option. i knocked.

later, feeling tired but clean in J's room, i had my first brilliant idea. why don't we check that the iron is working, i said. because if it isn't, we can get them to fix it when they come to change the kettle. so i got out the iron and turned it on. looked around for something to iron. could not locate anything, so decided to iron the carpet. and promptly smelt something dodgy...but don't worry, i hadn't started a fire or anything. when i placed my hand on the carpet, it was warm (= iron working), but also hard (= melted carpet).