The little things (don't read anything into this ladies)

Although it is Tuesday night here, I have to tell you about my first day. So I set the alarm for 6.30am Monday, the morning after arriving. I will say, when it went off, it was one of the least enjoyable sounds I have ever heard (and I have been to a Kate Bush concert). Running through my head was "it cannot be time to get up, it is black outside". Logic did not prevail and it was indeed time to get ready for day 1.

At this point, I was not aware the apartment had heating. So I got up, had a shower and proof that god hates me, all my shirts were crushed in the travel, so I had to iron. Thanks for all the training Mum and where were you Damien to say “nah, looks fine”?

All I had to eat for breakfast was fish oil tablets and shampoo, not the heartiest of meals (and not deep fried which is one of the 5 food groups here, along with cheese, bacon, sugar and candy bars). So I was ready early and went for a walk around downtown Cleveland (downtown means city centre- we’re all learning together).

So, getting off the plane last night, I remembered thinking it was no way as cold as I was expecting so I walked out with a shock when I left the apartment block - it was indeed cold that morning. I picked up the pace to warm my ill equipped extremities.

I was searching for a coffee shop which served anything which was not filtered coffee and doughnuts. It was not easy as the first street resulted in a bakery with filtered coffee and doughnuts (and other baked goods). I crossed the street and did a U-turn. To my relief and disgust, I was happy to see a Starbucks. Starbucks are as good at making coffee as they are at brokering a peace deal between Israel and Palestine, but at least it was not filtered coffee. But, again, the higher power had his way and it was closed. They were at least smart enough to stay at home in this weather.

Feeling helpless, I moved on and turned another corner. In the distance, like the call of the sirens, I saw “Phoenix Coffee”, all bright and inviting. I was heartened with all the promise of this sign. So I walked in and went from freezing cold to uncomfortably hot (heating, I must look into that in the apartment).

So I made it to the front of the line, and ordered a takeaway cappuccino. The waitress looked at me like I had spoken Swahili. I repeated and she looked befuddled and started to write it down. She turned to the barista and said “I don’t know what he wants”. He astutely said, “He is after a coffee to go”. Such a small difference between understanding and utter confusion. I decided I needed to learn the language, giving up the notion we all spoke English.

I then ordered a bagel but needed to provide a written purchase order (approved of course) this time. I will say they all found the whole event most amusing (as did I to be honest). This was my second US$ transaction and I was excited (as strange as it sounds), although I was still too timid to use the coin (I was not that advanced).

While I was waiting, one of the café staff asked me if I was English, not the last time I would be asked this today.

So I got to sit down and enjoy my bagel (toasted raisin with butter for those who care). I just sat there, enjoying my first American bagel and coffee. I was pleased to find the coffee not bad (although for all of their excesses in food and drinks, there was not a whiff of chocolate powder to be found to top it off – go figure).

It was a great start to my first day and I am sure there are even better to come.