"I'm thumbing my way to North Caroline"

July 2012


I had spent a few days in Chapel Hill before heading off to Key West with Lindsay, but after the months of traveling and few weeks of farming hell, these were spent chilling out, sorting my stuff and life out and not doing much whatsoever. I caught up with the Pritch girls again, and it was a great feeling to punch the code into the door and swing it open to be greeted with a scream of surprise (I hadn’t told them I was coming!) from Emma, Lexi and Lexie. Lexie Kendra I hadn’t seen since before Christmas (she had spent the semester in Scotland) and it was especially nice to see her again, and catching up with them all. Unfortunately that was the last but one time I saw Lexi before I left as due to her jet setting summer work commitments she was all over the place and we never managed to be in the same place again.

After returning from Alabama I had about 10 days left in Chapel Hill before my flight back to the UK. Chief on the list of things to do was Independence Day, that staple of American traditions that I was keen to be a part of. Even if that meant being ripped to shreds for being British… Independence Day (AKA 4^th July), if you don’t know, is the American celebration of independence from the ‘dam’ Brits. It is characterised by a BBQ (called a cookout), fireworks and lots and lots of beer. My idea of a great evening! A number of people rocked up at Lindsay’s house, including some of the RA’s still in town for the summer and some of the Graham 3^rd lot which was great to see. Getting grilling and drinking early was the order of the moment, with lighter fluid being ‘liberally’ applied to the BBQ, resulting in a ‘flame grilled’ taste! From there it was over to Kenen Stadium on campus where a free firework display was being held. The place was busy, with everyone only allowed to sit in one part of the stadium (health a safety and all that – including the placement of loads of firemen approximately 5 meters apart from each other in all directions). Obviously I envisioned everyone being British there, so was quite disappointed to see hundreds of Yanks. Ah well, wear the British t-shirt I had with pride! I did spot another guy wearing the union flag, and catching his eye there was a mutual understanding between us: “we’ll let them have this moment for now; we still had a better empire than they ever will”. 

Getting abused for being the better nationality

 Kenen Stadium

"Oh my... look at the British kid!"

The fireworks were pretty impressive (not as good as Guy Fawks night of course – you Yanks better look that one up by the way), with live music and a bit of a spectacle going on. Though the pure patriotism did amuse me intensely, as did Sam chanting USA repeatedly on his own for about 5 mins. As you do of course… Once it was over it was back to the house to continue drinking and set off our own illicit stash of fireworks from Lindsay and I’s road trip. Fireworks are illegal to buy and set off in NC. So we bought them in South Carolina (where they’re legal) and set them off anyways. Which was a drama in itself as no one had set off fireworks before. So it was a massive guesswork fest of rather dangerous proportions, with the first one falling over before erupting and shooting over the fence behind the house in the housing estate behind. Ooops! From there it was a little better, relocating to the front of the house and next doors gravel parking lot to set the rest off one by one. They were pretty cool, and added to the beer, remains of food and good company the evening progressed well. Until Vijay wigged the fuck out and had a panic attack over something or other…

The Illegal stash of fireworks. That were set off in a completely safe and sober manner. Of course...

(Some of) The Graham 3 boys

I also got to see Connor again which I was incredibly happy about. He was in Chapel Hill for something or other, so us two, Lindsay and another friend of Connor’s went to the Durham Bulls stadium in Durham (surprise surprise!) to see my first ever baseball game. Really not sure how I had managed to go that long without seeing one to be honest! It was a good game, long though (as is the nature of baseball games), but I was glad to have gone to one eventually. The time was passed explaining to me in the ins and outs of the rules,  being taught to eat sunflower seeds (actually harder than It looks – you have to crack the shell in your teeth, then extract the shell remains whilst trying to to loose the seed and then eat the seed). The atmosphere was pretty cool, despite the Bulls loosing (apparently that’s a given!) and there was a firework display afterwards which was pretty cool.

At the baseball (with my new Alabaman t-shirt)

There were also a numerous amounts of evening activities with Laura and Michael (including another first of eating at Mellow Mushroom; a pizza place), who again I was excited to spend time with again, the Pritch girls (well, mainly just Emma and Lexie) which was always a mad night out, and a day spent in Cary with Audra (the area was stunning!), and hanging out with Pat for an afternoon which was great to do having not seen him for so long whilst travelling. I had also come to the realisation that with all the places I had been to and stuff I had seen all over the USA, there was quite a lot within the Triangle that I hadn’t seen at all over the year. Prime example of taking advantage of what’s right on ones doorstep… As a way to try and counteract this, a trip was made to Durham, more specifically the Duke Museum of Tobacco museum related to the tobacco production in the area. It was a fascinating place, with numerous traditional buildings that were used over the decades for tobacco production. Seeing as Durham was built upon the tobacco trade, and NC has so much of its history steeped in the tobacco leaf it was a fitting way to actually find out something about where I had been spending my year.

On one of the last nights out with the (remaining) Pritch Girls

There was also one other thing I wanted to do before leaving the USA. Get a tattoo. I had wanted to get one for ages, and it felt fitting to commemorate the simply amazing experience I had had in the USA by getting one. I agonised over the design for ages, and settled on getting a swallow holding a dogwood flower. The swallow represents distance, which I had travelled to America, travelled around America, and also that I felt I had come personally throughout the whole experience. The dogwood flower is the state flower of North Carolina, and it seemed fitting to have an element of the state where I lived for a year within the design. I went to Tar Heel Tattoo (keeping with the UNC theme!) to get it done by one of the artists there. Who smoked like a total chimney and was barking mad. I mean batshit crazy. So I guess the perfect person to tattoo you! To say I was really nervous about getting it is an understatement. Especially as the original design drawn I wasn’t happy with at all, but the artist – to be fair to him – was incredibly patient in taking the time to redraw it as I wanted it. And then the moment came – to be sat in the chair with the needle poised. Jess had come down with me to see it get done, and that was reassuring as she has a couple on her and was a calm reassuring presence. Lindsay was also there, as was Pat who simply wound me up the whole time – good combination of personalities which took my mind of it all a little bit. 

Tattooing hurts. Theres no two ways about it. Having a needle punched into your skin rapidly really kills. And that was just on the skin. The location of the design (the left shoulder blade) meant a lot of bone was in the area. And if tattooing on skin hurts; when the needle hits the bone it’s not nice whatsoever. The three of them had a good laugh at my winces (despite me trying to be all macho and not show emotion), and provided good chat to keep me occupied during the session. Plus the batshit crazy tattoo artist chipping in with crazy shit every so often to nervous laughter and raised eyebrows. Not that it helped at times to be honest with the pain! The session took about an hour, and at the end I took a triumphant look, a picture, and then it was covered up to heal for a bit (apparently I bled quite a bit…). The whole thing wasn’t as bad as I thought, and I absolutely love my tattoo (shame it’s in such an awkward place to look at!), and definitely an awesome memento of my year abroad. From the tattoo parlour it was on to get a well earned beer with Pat!

In the chair

The finished product

The time to leave came around all too quickly. I really did not want to leave Chapel Hill, and I found myself in the last few days looking around the place going ‘this is the last time I’m going to see this, last time I’m going to do that’. On the last night a bunch of us hit Franklin Street and partied the night away in true Tar Heel style. I was genuinely upset to say good bye to everyone, as they had all been such a part of my amazing experience in the States, and I knew I was going to miss all of them. The next morning the journey to the airport was an emotional one, and the plan journey home a long and painful one (on account of the tattoo being done the day before!). Arriving back into London Heathrow to be greeted by the family was an amazing feeling however, having not seen them since March. Although I was bitching as I left NC in the blistering heat wearing shorts and arrived in London in the same shorts but it was freezing. Which meant a not very happy Alex!

I was so glad to be able to return back to Chapel Hill for a little while (too short a time to be honest) before returning back to the UK, and be able to see those people that were still around. It was a great few weeks filled with lasts and firsts, which just shows that when you go somewhere you can never think it’s just going to be the same old! Writing this muuuch later on a train to London from Manchester I look back on those few weeks with a lot of fondness. To me it was just like the stereotypical American summer you see in music videos – hanging out with great people in the sun and drinking without a care in the world or anything to have to do. A perfect way to wrap up a perfect year.

“It was a life I didn’t want to leave behind. It was a life I didn’t want to forget.”

April 2012 

 (Blog title quote attributed to: Maggie Stiefvater, Linger)

I guess all good things have to come to an end eventually. And with my time at UNC this came around far too quickly. I remember at the beginning of the year I mused at how stretched out in front of me the year looked, at it seemed like a hell of a long time until I returned home. Now I'm feeling that the year has simply disappeared and I have run out of time.

The last few weeks in Chapel Hill have been a blur of end of year festivities, fun, exams and sad farewells. Getting the boring bits out of the way, my finals went well, getting A’s and B’s (even with half completion of one exam – I had already passed the class before I sat the final!). Nothing better than bringing up my non-existent GPA! Finals were yet again full of the bizarre American ritual of partying harder than during the term time, with the Pit Rave being attended my many a fresher and semester long exchange student, alongside the streaking across campus. Being my second time around seeing this attitude during exams, I’ve come to understand it, although I still can’t get my head around it!

It being the last semester for many Seniors (4^th years), Seniors week was also laid on for them, with a number of events happening, including climbing the Bell Tower and Bar Golf. I was very keen to exercise my pseudo-senior status and climb the Bell Tower to simply have a nose around up there, and it was a pretty cool experience climbing up the windy stairs to the top. Only to find the view restricted by tiny and pretty filthy windows. Typical… The bar golf was also a good laugh, with many of of the exchanges being out and about too. It was a very different experience to pub golf back home, in that everyone raced around the bars (some starting as early as 6 to complete them all – now that’s a hell of a sense of competition!) and people kept asking what number hold you were on. I was just content to bar hop around and get a little steaming to be honest (which did inevitably happen!). Some of the places such as Carolina Coffee Shop (a bar in the evening) was totally rammed whilst other places such as La Res were empty. Very interesting indeed! The night finished off at He’s Not which was ridiculously busy by 1am with golfers in various degree of fancy dress.  Was a great night indeed!

Up the Bell Tower

Partying as hard as ever...

Desperately holding onto the Redneck-ness!

End of the year also saw the coming around of the annual Old Dirty Bash, which is a afternoon party type event for the community I lived in. With free t-shirts, food and drink I wasn’t gonna turn it down (although my roommate did – loser!) and it was great fun chilling out with the guys from my hall and the RAs I had got to know over the year in the sun listening to live music and eating a whole bunch of bad food.  For free. There was also a mechanical bull, a gladiator style boxing thingy and inflatable horse racing laid on for us mature students. Which I don’t need to say were met with total delight by all. The horse racing was basically inflatable ‘horses’ which you had to bounce to the end of the ‘racetrack’. Facing Addison I thought “sod that” and just picked up the horse and ran to the cry of “cheat!” and laughter at the sheer stupidity of what I was doing. Having said that, wasn’t as bad as Lindsay who fell backwards off her horse. And lasted all of 1 second on the mechanical bull. You do wander what they learn in the South sometimes… By having our own community event, it meant there were loads others in other communities across campus, and so the weekend was spent trailing round a number of them and hanging out under the Carolina blue sky with the glorious sunshine. The end of term also saw the Blue vs White Carolina football game, where incoming freshman signed to the team get to play with the current line up. In time honoured tradition Jessie and I attended the rather low turnout game (with Mary-Ellis, Lindsay and Esra too) to watch a rather boring game (if ones honest). Still, was nice to sit out in the sun and sing some Carolina chants!

Music (obviously)

The nearest to a rodeo I ever got!

Chillin in the Quad

More music

At the game

The end of year also meant the inevitable. Packing up of my room and moving out of Graham 3^rd. Luckily, as I wasn’t leaving Chapel Hill till a few days after move out date I was able to get an extension (unlike Fiona, John and Harriet who had to crash at Pritch with a few other extras!), and so could take my time over the gathering of things together. God knows how I managed to fit it all in two bags and a box (which was mailed home). I had collected a serious amount of junk and had to be pretty brutal with chucking stuff out! Very kindly I was able to leave the things I didn’t need to go travelling with in a corner of the Pritch house (which was a mammoth effort to do in its self with everyone else’s stuff everywhere there – god knows how they managed!). Despite my lack of stuff it still felt sad packing up my room and taking all the pictures and cards (people had given me before I left) down off the walls. I had always hated my room for its bareness and prison cell look, but it looked even worse taking it apart! Gunn left the day of his last exam, and I was really bad and avoided the room like the plague that day to not have to say bye to him. I just couldn’t stand it – the sooner he was gone the better (that sounds really harsh, but it will be explained in another blog). However it was truly sad to see the rest of the guys (and girls from Aycock 3^rd) leaving. I have had such a blast with the lot of them and if you’re reading this guys, you have been a huge part of my year – thank you so much. Highlights have definitely been the makeshift manikin in Sicking’s bed, cling filming doors and toilets and all the crazy conversations and stupid discussions had in the lounge. I’m gonna miss y’all a lot. The hall was weird once they had all left, leaving myself, Connor and a couple of other residents knocking around. Very quiet in comparison to the usual shenanigans’ that went down over the year!

Goodbyes also had to be made to the internationals, both from the semester and the year. Some of whom I know I will see again, and others I hope so. Again, I was genuinely sad to say bye to everyone – even if I didn’t know them that well they were a part of my year abroad and so part of the whole experience. Pritch had its last house/frat party of the year (I’m very sure it wasn’t the last ever!), filled with Internationals, Americans and tears. To about the same proportions. The unofficial rule was no tears till midnight. But that went to bolocks when Jessie left before midnight and I teared up good and proper. Which then with the amounts of booze flowing set everyone else off. Typical… On a brighter note however, a number of people bought flags for everyone to sign, which was a fantastic idea to remember people. I did it too, and it will hang upon my wall when I return to Manchester as a reminder of the year while I cry in my room for having no social life in 4th year!

(one of) the last nights out on Franklin Street

The last Pritch Frat party

Being sad about leaving

The last few remainers

Looking back on the goodbyes at UNC I am filled with sadness in that the my time there had come to an end, and some of the amazing people I had met there I am unlikely to see again. But then I am also filled with happiness with the memories I had there, the phenomenal people I did meet, many of whom I will see again, and the great highs and some terrible lows I had had over the year (thankfully waaaay more highs than lows!) which has made it such a great experience. To all of Tar Heels reading this (both American and International) thank you for being a part of my year and making it such a great one at UNC.

But with the sadness of leaving UNC comes the excitement of the next great adventure – my travels around the great US of A!

Floundering in Stereotypes (Second Day)

August 2011

So I awoke at 8.30 on the Thursday morning. Well, I say 8.30am, it was actually 3.30am (NC being 5 hours behind the UK), and I wasn’t too happy about that. It was a pattern that continued for a good week longer. But being knackered from my 24hour day the day before, I pretty easily went back to sleep. When it finally seemed a normal time to rise out of bed, I went and had a shower – interesting experience to one who has never lived in a corridor set up before - and went on the hunt for breakfast. I was pointed towards Franklin street by the RA’s who were sat outside the dorm in eagerness for new arrivals (seriously, they were dead keen!) and went off “a-walking”. Franklin Street is about a 5 min walk from Graham Dorm (where I live) in theory. It actually took me 15, with a lot of confusion to the traffic light system in Chapel Hill. It seems that in some places you can just walk across the road and in others you cant. I played safe, not wanting to get arrested for jaywalking, and waited for some nice person to take pity on me and let me cross.

Front of my dorm

Looking onto Franklin Street

What struck me about the place is how big everything is. Big cars, bit roads, big buildings. Even the wasps are bigger here! The biggest problem for me, especially on the first day, was the size of the food. I went into a lovely place called Carolina Coffee House on Franklin Street, enticed by the promise of omelette “with whatever you want” - I should add here that there was a price involved with that, and they couldn’t guarantee to have literally anything you wanted - but anyways, I ordered an omelette and a cup of tea and made small talk with the manager who had once been to England when he was married (v long story trust me). It was then that I noticed other British accents in the place, and after spying them out in a very English way (i.e. subtly you Americans!) I sat there listening to them (OK, being nosey). I quickly realised they were other exchange students, and I knew I had to go over and meet them so I had some friends. Easier to say than done! It took me all of my omelette (a very long time with the size of the dam thing!) and two cups of tea (not the nicest tea in the world – nowhere can do tea like the UK) to pluck up the courage to walk over and introduce myself, worrying that they would rebuff me and laugh at my food baby visible under my t-shirt from the omelette. Needless to say I didn’t have to worry – they were (and still are I guess!) a lovely bunch and we’ve been pretty much inseparable since (look on the peoples page for info about them if you’re interested). I successfully latched onto them like a leach (well, a desperate person for friends), and together we skipped into the sunset in a happy daze… OK, we walked rather slowly due to the horrendous heat as soon as you walk anywhere.  

The UNC campus has only one word to describe it: Beautiful. Well two then: Absolutely beautiful. I was stunned at how amazing it is. And also how large it is too, compared to the likes of Manchester campus. Redbrick buildings set into huge lawns and trees everywhere! This is probably a place to talk about my door and dorm. As previously mentioned I’ve never lived in a corridor setting before, sharing bathrooms and toilets etc. The room itself is ok, slightly bigger than the one I had in first year, with two windows, desks, beds that can be lifted up etc. Now I should mention the fact that I actually share a room. Yep, you read right, I have a roommate. Now while this may not be a problem now, at the time I hadn’t met the lucky chap who was sharing with me and this was somewhat of a concern. What happens if he’s a loud American who likes chopping down trees? Or a sports freak who gets up for a run at 5am every day? Or a sexual maniac who brings women home every night?! What happens then?! There are roughly 20 rooms on the corridor with 2 people in each (except the RA’s room – lucky bugger!) with a lounge at the end that links onto the girl’s side of the corridor. It is however a new experience to have to walk down the end of the corridor to go to the loo or even to get a drink! An experience likely to be most appreciated when I'm back in Manchester with a bathroom shared with a lot less people and a lot less distance away!

Some images of the campus

 

That evening the English lot and I went to Franklin Street for a meal in a place called Spankeys. Now I originally misread the place name and got quite excited about there being a Sankeys in Chapel Hill (to you non-Mancunians, Sankeys is a massive club in Manchester), which would have made an awesome photo. As it was I was being retarded and just managed to avoid making myself look a fool. I would recommend the place though as the food was rather nice (that’s the tourist guide-esk part put in!), and they had cool caricatures on the wall which provided a fair bit of amusement!

After the meal I hooked up with my wonderful mentor Pat for a night out on the town (more of a road really). His housemate Madison was DJ-ing at a club behind Chapel Hill so we went along; Pat to support Madison, me to indulge in culture watching again. The club itself was OK, bit like 5^th Ave for those of you who get the reference, and was fairly full, which is always a good sign! Queuing for a drink however wasn’t good. Now, I don’t want to make a sweeping statement here but some Americans do not know how to politely wait at the bar for a drink. I was waiting for over 30mins for a drink at in the process was pushed, elbowed, screamed past and at one point almost jumped over by others (mainly girls who thought getting their tits out warranted a free drink). The barman himself was a right dick as well. But anyways, after waiting I thought ‘Screw it’ and bought 10 beers in one (not all for myself I hasten to add!). Pats mates who I met – Willy who’s literally like 7 foot and Rayme who’s literally like 4 foot – were really cool and friendly, and they indoctrinated me into the weird world of US clubbing. Now in the UK you may see people making out in the corners of clubs or in the middle of the dance floor. In the US, its borderline sex. No kidding. Needless to say I was amazed and then ended up in hysterics watching one or two couples not getting too far away from just ripping their clothes off and getting down and dirty on the dance floor. An experience it was! Secondly, Americans are much better dancers. Fact. I felt rather awkward with my usual swaying holding a beer and promptly felt obliged to drink some more and just go for it (Mum if you’re reading this I didn’t do that at all. Honestly….). Eventually I couldn’t push off the jetlag anymore and had to retire for the eve, after facing the tricky issue of finding my way alone and a drunk (read sober Mum) leading to me going down some rather dodgy park pathways. Ah well, im still alive today I guess! Filled with apprehension about my roommate possibly having turned up whilst I was out, I quietly (for a drunk person at least) opened the door and found the room empty. Perfect for crashing out!