The Difference

If your finger is on the pulse and you understand where I have moved to and what degree I have, you'll have probably pieced together that I have changed industry. I am not allowed to really talk too much about it, and I have made a decision to not talk about it, but it does show me that not only what I was doing up North was easily transferable, but that the differences, whilst there, are actually quite small.

Except for a few massive ones. The differences though that make a difference are the changes in behaviour. Like locking my computer, or signing in and out on paper. These aren't massive when you think about it, but day to day it requires focus to pay attention to them.

Outside of work, living in England has a few differences too. For example, the first question almost anyone has asked me is "Which way did you vote in the Referendum?" which I have always been honest about. Some react the way I'd expect - indifference. Some agree that it should have been a yes. Others... well, the others keep themselves to themselves.

The fact that I can't just walk anywhere is an issue. Frank and I were in exploring mode when Connie and Joni were still in Canada and found ourselves doing loads of long walks. So imagine my disappointment when we come across a stile that requires Frank to be lifted over. One walk had fucking nine of them in a row which was back breaking. I mean, I am a strong guy - but he's 36kgs of licking dog covered in water and mud. The lack of roaming rights is a little crap.

What a dickhead.

What a dickhead.

Additionally little things like the schools getting out later, the shops not charging for bags (though that's changing) and the massive deals available on booze (buy 5 for the price of 3!), and yes... the accent. English accents everywhere! Oh, and sunday fucking opening.

So yeah, living here is fun. A difference yes, and one that I am enjoying so far. And soon these differences won't be different anymore. 

Just don't ask me what accent Joni's going to have.