Flying visits, group work and ill advised presentation techniques

So last weekend I packed my bags and boarded a flight to an exotic land far, far away. Wales. A little visit home for a few days to see friends and a certain person. Now before you reach for the sick bucket (or tissues) in anticipation of a filthy, sordid recounting of events, or the polar opposite - an outburst of soppy unmannliness, never fear - I wont go into any more detail than that, this being a family friendly account of events and all. Also because there is a high chance I would end up losing my head faster than a journalist in North Korea.

Now i'm back it's just another 5-6 weeks of hard graft and i'll be returning for the big C word that doesn't rhyme with punt.

This week I have been forced unwillingly to engage in group work as part of a new module on Climate Change. The biggest issue being those faced when certain members are louder and less able to control their outbursts of complete bollocks than a member of the US Republican Party.

It's not that I do not like working as a team. Far from it. But when said team is given 2 hours to put together a presentation on something and everyone thinks they're right, arguments ensue.

Somehow, probably due to my slightly ill thought out criticism of certain members intelligence during one of the more heated discussions, I was nominated to not only do my section of the presentation but also the conclusion. When asked if I wished to prepare a conclusion I declined, an off the cuff version seeming far more appealing.

A word of advice to any would be followers of this techinique. Winging in-depth scientific knowledge of individual greenhouse gases such as Perfluormethane (CF4), and it's influences on global warming to a panel of industry leading experts in this field is about as easy as a white woman trying to convince her white husband the black baby they just had is a miracle and not the consequence of her adulterous adventures.

Needless to say after an uncomfortable few minutes for all involved some effort was made for the second presentation scheduled for the following day. This one I did...

In other news, this week I have been back on the bike on my daily commute and started a new intense gym routine with my housemate after a two week pathetic illness excused hiatus. Subsequently my legs now feel as sore as a navy officers wife after he has been home for a few days after 6 months spent at sea. Sore but surprisingly satisfied.

So that's it. This weekend I am having to miss a weekend of kayaking party heaven, aka Tyne Tour, due to heavy workload. Two exams this week and coursework I am determined to break the back of in time for a weekend away with the Guys and Gals of Cardiff, kayaking in North Wales in a few weekends time. Ill be damned if im going to let work make me miss that as well as this weekend, I have the bottles of port purchased already in eager anticipation of an incredible rowdy weekend of whitewater kayaking and drinking.

Until then, time to knuckle down.

The Plague, Slavery and Doghnuts

This week I have been on my deathbed, suffering from that well known affliction that is known to bring even the strongest man to his knees in a crippled mess, barely strong enough to even get out of bed in the morning. Man flu. Now man flu isn't like the common cold which affects women, it's much, MUCH worse. But being a man, I of course battled on through the haze that the plague had reduced my life too. Being a sensible human being I opted to this week change my travel plans from cycling to Uni, to getting back on the metro bandwagon and taking the easy option in each day, in an effort to return my health. Now I don't know much about the Geneva Convention but during rush hour they pack more people into each carriage than into a 17th Century slave cargo ship. Now chickens have a legal minimum space requirement of 750cm...I am bigger than a chicken. Shoulder to shoulder, face pressed into the back of some stranger in front I started to wish I was a battery chicken so I could spread out and enjoy the space. They think they have it tough? Chickens. I did however take pleasure in spreading the Black Death throughout the carriage, ensuring the loudest and rudest of passengers got the fullest blast of my germs.

Modern day human sandwiches

Look at all that space.

Now it is probably my own fault I succumbed to the dreaded pox. Last week I indulged in two particularly heavy nights out, and due to late hours in Uni resorted to ready meals. Now as my Grandmother tells me, if you don't eat your fruit and veg, and drink your body weight in Gin and Wine, it's your own bloody fault if you fall ill. Point taken Nan.

This week I discovered the TV series 'Heroes'. Now I don't want to be over enthusiastic but it is AMAZING! Not sure entirely where I was when it came out first time around but now my week days consist of working til late in Uni then coming home, gym and indulging in Heroes Marathons into the early hours with my housemate. I do live an inspiring life.

Today my mother is coming to visit. Now im not sure exactly what the polite thing to do is in this situation. We don't have a spare bed, do I give up mine? Currently, due to practically living in Uni, my room looks like a Military grade obstacle course. To get to bed you have to climb a small mountain, just getting over a small workout in itself. Now if I give up my room, should I tidy it? I mean that's what mum's are for right? I haven't washed any clothes for a while either maybe she can sort that out as well...

Ok I'm not that much of a tit (although the thought did cross my mind). I will blast it quickly before she comes, so at least she can see the floor and where the bed is actually located amongst the pile of clothes. I will spend the next few nights on the air bed in the study.

Next week I am popping back down to the Welshlands for a quick bout of nostalgic reunions, hence why I am working harder this week to make up for next weekend off. Another maths exam on Wednesday which I am of course looking forward to as much as the bearded man looked forward to being nailed to a cross.

One last thing before I actually finish this weeks entry and do some work, readers may be impressed to know that during one of my Post Night Out Collateral Damage sessions, I ate 12 doughnuts. I know. Impressive.

Work, Drink and Forgotten Moments

This week was my 'Off Week'. Which meant spending 10 hour days in the Union computer clusters calculating catchment averaged rainfall depths amongst other exciting water related mathematical wonders. The cycle commute in each day was going well, for one day, that was until having forgotten the everyday phenomenon of nightfall I was left chasing the few shreds of daylight back home without any lights, hitting a pot hole and realising my rear tyre had gone softer than an elderly gentleman's power tool.

Realising without lights my chances of fixing the puncture, and having stupidly left my spare inner tube back at the castle, I was left with no choice but to trudge two miles back into town, (the other option was an 8 mile walk to my house) where I chained up the bike under the watchful gaze of a sign saying 'Bike Thieves We Are Watching You'... a huge deterrent to would be thieves of my precious two wheeled Ferrari I'm sure you would agree. I had to take the metro home with my tail between my legs like a depressed puppy.

Wednesday promised to be the highlight of the week with a respite from the daily grind of work with a night out with the Newcastle Uni Kayaking bunch. The theme tight 'n' Bright, sponsored by Primark.

Now what I hadn't taken into account in my eager anticipation of this wondrous event was the 20 minute commute in by train. Dressed as a 90's gay icon pop star I was attracting all sorts of attention for entirely the wrong reasons. I was however very grateful I hadn't opted for my previous choice of fancy dress. Dressed as a giant walking vagina would have been a little too much for the gentle folk of Northumberland Park Metro Station I feel. The journey ordeal over, I finally, after some wondering around the streets of Newcastle trying to find the bar, met the rest of the guys and girls of NUCC. A great bunch, followed by a great night out. I think. It was a great night up until the point where I don't remember...I remember entering the Union in the early hours, I remember trying to convince the bouncers I was Irish when I needed to leave to get more cash and I remember getting fleeced by the taxi driver on the way home. From there all I remember is the feeling when I woke of one, feeling like a warmed up cadaver, and two, feeling I should be embarrassed about something but no idea what it was. Luckily I still can't remember so no harm done. The following day is what I like to call 'Post Night Out Collateral Damage'. I.e. I was a pathetic mess who spent the day on the couch feeling sorry for himself. What I really needed was a good dose of man up but what actually happened was way too much bacon and coffee and very little work getting done.

So to make up for this lousy day I got an early start today, in for 9 again to crack on with work. So far I have done zero work and written this. A good start.

Oh and I now have my glasses. This is a picture of me wearing my glasses.

Ok that's not me. And I just got a warning off the University network for googling 'Hunk wearing Glasses' trying to find that image. But you get the jist.

This weekend some more kayaking, some work, a night out on Saturday followed by some more 'Post Night Out Collateral Damage' on Sunday. Newcastle is going well.

Maths, Cycling and finally...some Kayaking

They said it would be hard. They said it would be intense. They didn't lie. A week into proper lectures and my brain feels like it has been stampeded by a herd of American steakeaters. The less said on this matter the better but suffice it to say maths has never been my strong point, so 12 hour days are becoming the norm to get my head around vectors, matrices and other words I hadn't even heard of until this week. That said the actual content is awesome and im loving it.

Sitting on my backside aside, or more accurately moving from one form to another, I have now switched from metro'ing it in each morning to cycling. After a 10 mile blast in, the department showers help to make me presentable for the classroom. The strange looks I get from the cleaners are perhaps due in part to my ridiculously early arrival, however it could also be my falsetto version of 'I shot the sheriff', 'Hot Chocolate' and other such gems I like to sing whilst scrubbing down.

One downside to this newly established exercise routine is my tendency to forget important items. Such as clean boxers to put on afterwards. In summer this might not be a problem, especially in shorts. However in chilly Autumn the wearing of Jeans has become more regular, and the chaffage from this left certain gentleman parts looking like a baboons backside.

A Baboons Backside

Thursday evening was spent climbing down at the local bouldering wall, where it soon became evident that although some parts of me looked like a monkey after the chaffing incident, my climbing abilities were more akin to a mammoth than our long tailed friends. The irony of nearly being mowed down by an Ambulance on the pitch black cycle home afterwards being the adrenaline highlight of that particular day. I really should re-install my lights.

Saturday came around and finally I actually got in a boat and paddled some gnar. The High Force to Low Force section of The Tees to be precise. Hooking up with the Newcastle University bunch I launched into the water with trepidation, concern mounting that my first time out with the guys would result in either extreme shame, injury or actual death. Luckily for the most part this wasn't the case and I had a cracking time. The sun actually broke through the clouds and the guys and girls of the club helped make it a great day out.

A very quick edit of the some of the days antics can be seen here:

https://vimeo.com/50935488

Sorry for the poor quality at times and poor camera work. Not much effort was made on my part to film so what is there is more what the GoPro caught unawares - I will make more effort next time. Also apologies but I only really have footage of those in front and behind me in our group!

This coming week is what our lecturers call our 'Week Off'... this is a lie. We get taught in block modules. Our weeks off involve maths tests, coursework and actually getting all the work they give us in the previous week done.

It does however provide some flexibility of morning starts so Wednesday evening I am intending to join the Newcastle Uni Kayakers for some drunken antics and bugger the early start Thursday. Although I heard a rumour the theme is tight or bright... the temptation to dress as something which may possibly be pushing the boundaries a little too far for my first social outing with the club is going to be hard to resist....

A step too far for Fancy Dress?

On a completely unrelated piece of news to anything tight or bright, I am now a fresh faced member of the four eyes club. Luckily I only need them for driving and long distance stuff so no biggy. I managed my usual putting my foot in it when, as the kind man in Specsavers recommended a certain pair to try on, I remarked that they looked ridiculous and would make me look like a middle aged accountant. Going bright red he then told me he owned those frames himself. A good day. And a good week.

The Chinese, man love and 'the cage'

Can't believe it's been more than a week now since I moved up to the city of constant rain. Already im starting to use words like 'mega' and 'champion', although not to describe the weather, which at best can only be described as shitty.

Monday was my first day in the great city's great University. My timing was perfect, as always, and I arrived 45 minutes early. Turns out my time buffer zone for the metro was entirely unnecessary, although a cattle prod would be a sound investment in order to keep the masses who are crammed into each train from standing on my feet and generally being annoying. I decided to celebrate my earliness with a visit to the departments little boys room to make 'use' of the facilities. Something which winningly used up some spare time also.

Upon walking into the induction room we were scheduled to meet at at 9.00am, I walked through some sort of travel portal and found myself in China. Now im not being racist, and by starting my sentence with this you will immediately assume that I am and hopefully go elsewhere for your 5 minute literary fix, but I would say the majority, and by majority I mean about 97%, are international students. Baffled by the hubbub of languages of which I had no clue (I struggle with English) I found myself wondering what I had let myself into. After a while a guy walks through the door and looking just as scared and baffled as me asks me, in English, if this was the right place for our induction. I immediately assured him it was and refused to let him out of my sight, latching onto him like a leech. Turns out he was on the same course as me. We had a brief man love moment. You could say our eyes caught each other across the room and that was it but that would be a lie. And a little gay.

The week has been spent indulging in induction activites, mostly involving field trips to various places of the northern water persuasion in beautiful sunshine with temperatures of tropical proportions. Didn't rain at all and I didn't come home each night looking like a drowned rat and smelling like a damp tea towel. I certainly didn't get grumpy at any time or make disparaging remarks about what we were doing.

All said and done though it was actually a great week. Got to know the guys and girls on our course. There are some guys from Italy and Austria, some girls from the US, Namibia, China, Ireland and Essex, and the rest I haven't bothered to ask as they are either male or very obviously English. A good interesting bunch, on what is promising to be an amazing course.

Friday night was to be my first night out in Newcastle, guidance and drinking companionship provided, free of charge, by the guy off my course and his housemates. A Newcastle graduate from undergrad he knew the sights and places to be. We went to 'Sinners'. Well actually, we went to this heavenly place after indulging in a sophisticated and well mannered gentleman's game known as 'Ring of Fire'. Almost as sophisticated as my new nickname, Cardiff Boy. After a bottle of wine and numerous concoctions courtesy of over eager tipping into the central pint glass, I discovered the main delight of Sinners. Cheap Trebles. £2.50 for a treble. A treble being three shots for those without a drinking problem. Treble gin and lemonades went down, well, like lemonade and I soon discovered the lure of the actual main delight of Sinners (I lied before). The Cage.

The Cage - In the right hand corner.


Now people dance in this thing. If you imagine sexy hot girls grinding away in an endless display of lavish sexual prowess then more fool you. Admittedly as the night goes on the girls that do venture in there begin to look like this but I feel this may be due more to the increasing number of trebles being consumed than some magical increase in sexual attraction and dancing ability. We decided we were going to jump on in and show the crowds how it is done. In we went. Or at least they did, I got partially in before realising I hadn't used the correct entrance where the bars are wider to allow for bodies of such ample proportions as mine to gain admittance. So there I was, half in, half out, hanging there like a manhandled chiwawa.

What a manhandled Chiwawa looks like.


I eventually got myself out, my stomach cramping like a camel on it's period but like the man that I am I continued to shake my stuff like nothing had happened. A damn good night. I slept on Alex's sofa enjoying that lovely water bed motion that being slightly inebriated likes to grace you with when you finally call it a night.

So a week has gone, I am officially a Newcastle resident and already i am settling into a routine. The course is as intense as meeting the inlaws, but it's worth it (a fact often not the case with the inlaws). Certain plans have had to be cancelled due to workload and exams, Kayaking:Pyrenees/Skiing...we'll say no more on that subject.

In other news, in a quick roundup of the weeks slightly less interesting happenings, I have been cycling lots, getting lost lots, seen insane amounts of wolf poop and have watched 4 films so far in one day in what has been one of my most epic hangover days to date. Until next time.

One man, a carload of junk and a wolf

So the big day finally arrived. The epic task of cramming my life into one small VW Polo began and was over before I knew it, and with my car resembling a vehicle which would not have been out of place in the daily Indian commute I set off.

The journey was long, broken up by a quick spot of lunch with the dad pretty much half way near Derby. I had grand intentions of sticking behind lorries in their slipstream at a mediocre 50 miles an hour to save fuel. I was successful in maintaining this for approximately 23 minutes, before releasing a series of expletives too rude for this prewatershed record of events and deciding to follow faster vehicles, mostly Mercedes Sprinters at a more satisfactory 65 - 75 mph.

I arrived in Newcastle pretty shattered but in a good mood. Total journey time: roughly 7 Hours.

Now the house. Last time I visited Newcastle I returned to Cardiff in what can only be described as controlled despair. Admittedly I had conducted my housing search based on 'cheapest rent criteria' not 'nicest areas', and felt throughout most of my search for housing as if I was going to be relieved of my possessions in a bloody but friendly manner ( I had been assured that even if mugging you, Geordies are a friendly and pleasant bunch). This time, whilst in Cardiff and the housing search going from bad to worse, I had been contacted by a guy, around my age, who was looking for someone to rent a room in his house with just him and his resident wolf. The rent was a little steeper but the standard of living would, I hoped, be worth it.

Arriving at the house before he had finished work, I had to wait around a little before he arrived. Of course being the prudent and wise man that I am I decided to use this opportunity to take a nap, in my car, with Radio 2 blaring out. So this was the image he was presented with when he returned home from work. A bum in a battered old car, overladen with crap, snoring like a gutted pig. Lucky for me my phone decided, just prior to him knocking on the window, to notify me of yet another worthwhile facebook notifcation, so I was just about awake to see a very well dressed guy smiling down at me. Jumping out in my long-journey-induced-sweaty shorts, tshirt and flipflop combo ( I am known for being a bit of a fashion connoisseur ) we shook hands and the introduction and house tour began.

Luckily he wasn't too put off by first impressions to bar my way into the house, and we got on pretty much from word go. A genuinely nice guy, with an awesome house and an even more incredible wolf, which he assures me is a dog. He is a Car Sales Manager - hence the well dressed appearance!

The evening was spent unloading the car into the garage and lounge area before he chucked some pizzas in the oven, cracked a few beers and we crashed in front of the TV. Well he tells me it is a TV, im sure it should be classed as a cinema screen - it's bigger than my car windscreen for starters. Incredible. After a discussion of decent films and actors he was atounded I hadn't seen 'Man on Fire' - so on it went. Cracking film, although the ending is a bit blurry as I was beginning to go in and out of a sleep coma by the end. Denzel Washington at his best.

Off to bed, first night in Newcastle, out like a light, slept like a baby. Awoke to the smell of muffins, on with the coffee and a good breakfast of eggs and muffins gave me the start I needed to tackle the slow job of unpacking my wordly possessions. My bedroom is not the largest but I also have a separate study room so before long I had cracked the back of the work and even had a few posters and pictures of the better looking minority of my friends on the wall. Late afternoon Darren, the guy im living with, said his goodbyes as he headed off to London for a Triathlon. The house to myself, and with an awesome kitchen, I had grand plans of cooking up a feast fit for a King. A short Pasta and Pesto with added bacon later I was crashed on the sofa with a beer watching the training programme of the Sky Pro Cycling Team with a bit of Grand Designs thrown in for good measure. A flick through the channels late at night gave me Jason Statham in the form of Crank, a high adrenaline, well acted, shakespeare worthy piece of rubbish which was thoroughly enjoyed. Then bed.

So here we are, my second morning in Newcastle, a good start to the day with a bacon, cranberry and brie sandwich for nostalgia's sake and a plan of action for the day.

Masters starts Monday, so some pre registration work needs doing, general everyday stuff needs doing, and im going to explore this city and area the way I know best. Bruising my backside on the old bike working off all that bacon and cheese.

To say I was a tad nervous and apprehensive before I set off up North may be an admission of unmanlyness, and I wouldn't want to undermine my aggressive hard man image, but it would be the truth. Ok im yet to start the course, or meet the guys in the kayaking and cycling clubs but from first impressions, the house, Darren, the wolf and the surrounding area, it's going to be a good year.


Some more pictures of the house:

The fridge/freezer...mahoosive

The Kitchen

The Study Room...slowly coming together.

My Bathroom

The night before, goodbyes and a pint of goblin

So this is it. The night before the big day, where I bravely venture into the dark realms of the North. All packed. I say all packed, that is in fact a dirty lie. I am packed in the sense that I have a large pile of semi organised crap/possessions piled on my bed waiting to be packed into the car in the morning. A bit daft really seeing as I now have to move all said crap to the floor so I have somewhere to sleep. I have also splashed out on two budget 'Halfords-own' bike carriers for my roof rack that seem, judging by my dry test run earlier today, to have as much vertical stability as an old age pensioner on roller skates. It is going to be an interesting journey.

Two bikes, Two boats, boating gear, biking gear, one guitar and a ridiculous amount of clothes. Considering I have spent the last few months surviving with what I had packed in one bag to move to my sisters, I had forgotten just how many torn and tatty clothes I actually owned. Of course it is all coming with me.

There have been doubters voicing very hurtful comments that my little blue tardis wont fit it all in. They are wrong. They have to be.

As some may know the housing situation up North changed yet again, for reasons too complicated and boring for me to bother writing, but the new house looks promising. Rather than waste a few valuable seconds of my life describing it now I will wait until tomorrow, when I can actually describe what I am seeing/feeling/smelling...

Manly tearless goodbyes have been said/grunted, tire pressures have been altered, and petrol tanks filled. The opportunity to sample one last free beer courtesy of my sisters fridge presents itself in the form of a large bottle of 'Goblin'....this is the last little update from Wales. Newcastle here I come.