Farewell Irwell

I'm writing this in Room 27 of House 17 in much the way it was on my arrival, sparse. Not that it was ever much more than sparse, but whatever it was has been packed up and moved out. It's always weird to say goodbye to a place you've inhabited, but even moreso to one you know will never see again, let alone be in.

Don't think I'm about to shed a tear or wax lyrical about Castle Irwell--but a goodbye is a goodbye; unless it's a good riddance, and I don't think I would go so far as to condemn this place in such a way. But good riddance to the dirty kitchen... and the dirty Spanish house mate (mostly responsible for the state of said kitchen). Otherwise, being an Irdweller never was that terrible.

I leave for Spain tomorrow morning from Nottingham, about an hour train ride from Manchester. It will be Robyn and my last trip, a Christmas-escape to Barcelona, Madrid and Paris. After nine days, I'll fly back to Nottingham and take the train to Bramhall, to the home of Norm and Grace Ryan. The Ryans have very much been like surrogate grandparents to me since I've been in England.

I met them at the Keg, where I served them and their daughter Beth and her family. When they found out I was moving to Manchester for four months, they immediately opened up their home to me. Grace picked me up at the airport in September and I spent my first three days in England with them.

I've also come to know Grace's other daughter, Fiona, and her family very well. They have taken me out on occasion to see "touristy" sites, as well as just to feed me and make sure I had a ready escape from student life.

Fiona, her husband Wayne, and their 8 year-old son, Toby, are heading to Canada in a few days to visit Beth. Beth and her family moved to Canada last January, and--unbelievably enough--live on the same street as me. Hopefully, I will have the opportunity to return just some of the hospitality their entire family has shown me over the past four months.

But until then, I'll make sure to thank and say goodbye to the people that have made my time at the University of Salford and in England better than it would have been without them.

- Shaun Fennell - my first friend, trusted travel guide (particularly while navigating across English roads), South African informant, always dutiful it's-late-and-dodgy-in-the-black-scally-infested-streets-of-Salford-home-walker, and all around gentleman.

Enjoy the Greeks, Shaun. Good luck with everything.

- Fatima Abrar - my editor at Student Direct, "first ever Muslim friend!" and my favourite person to sit in the newspaper office dungeon with for hours on end.

See you on the BBC, Fatima, headscarf and all.

- Niall Brown - my favourite Irishman, provider of late-night tv, endless questions and useless sayings, and the one who was always on the other end of the phone ringing me at two, three, four and five in the morning. Oh, and I suppose forever in my heart for being the one who brought me to a Manchester United game.

Nighty night night, Niall. Who was it?

- Martin Pye - the guy with the best Northern-English accent I've heard, and the one person most taken with my Canadian accent.

Good luck in America, Martin; but you have to see Canada --and the burrs in my backyard. You cannot rugby tackle one, no matter how caught-off-guard you think it might be. Badger!

- Robyn Roste - fellow Canadian amidst all these crazy English people, and travel companion to Dublin, Chicago (the musical), Dublin again, Barcelona, Madrid and Paris.

Good luck without me, Robyn. Think of me in J-lab OM 1411.

- Nicola Boyd - the best girl in England, and go figure... she's Scottish! my favourite sinful-food-indulging partner in crime, and just a level head; responsible for my first ceilidh and Highland flinging it with a boy in a kilt ..oh and also as taken by the idea of straightening and/or styling in any general manner...leg hair.

You promised to gatecrash me in Canada, where the "Scottish goddess" will be a shoe in.

Honourable mentions: James from Student Direct and my own personal photographer, Ben Clay, also from SD, my house mates, Flick, Sophia, Saffron, Hattie, Lyn, Felicity, Eva, Donna. Always friendly and always generous with their randomn coveted items I didn't have from home (pots, pans, cutlery, nail polish...nail polish remover, flat irons etc)...

...oh and Mojo - who nailed with ease and grace the role of the ever questioning-worried-and-interested mom. And sender of one very important care package containing another travel wallet, another hair dryer (I guess she thought I needed spares), Mr. Noodle soup, tea (because she though I wouldn't be able to find any in ENGLAND?!?), and among other things--the contraption that made the use of my flat iron, curling iron and (first) hair dryer possible.

See you soon.

And Korey Gannon - the boyfriend who has been patient enough to let me live on the other side of the world for four months--no questions asked.

December 23rd, Canada, British Columbia, Kelowna: airport: some gate, 11pm-ish. Be there.