The Fragrance of H(e|u)ll

It’s one of those days in Hull. The sun is shining – very unusual. We’ve been casketed in clouds for days, with temperatures struggling to pass 12 degrees C, while the rest of the country enjoys highs of 20 C. No surprise there.

But today is different. It feels nice when you look out the window and see the world looking a bit brighter.

But God help you if you open that window. That was my mistake.

As I said, it’s one of those days in Hull. The wind is blowing in the right direction to bring in the smell of the “chocolate” factories. I’m not quite sure who started this myth that it’s a chocolate factory, but if chocolate really smelled like sulphur, then I don’t think I’d touch it with a bargepole.

But I need to open my window to dry my washing. Why did I have to time this so perfectly?

Then there’s the other nonsense. For some ridiculous reason, the ambulances make very strange noises here. The normal siren starts up and then suddenly leaps into a kind of machine-gun rattling, leaping back and forth between a siren and this chuddering, yet still wailing sound. It seems to last forever as the ambulance struggles to fight its way through the severe congestion Hull terminally suffers from.

It’s a funny old place, but I’ve become quite endeared to it. The key is to be selective about where you go and at what times, just like any other city.

In the meantime, life is pretty good. I have polished off the third and final essay, so now all I need to do is proof read and print them. I’m happy. But I’m going to be extremely nervous on Wednesday, because I have to make my way to Leeds for the interview for Camp America. I’m not quite sure if it’s supposed to be really formal or just relaxing, but I know I can’t wear my t-shirt which basically calls all Republicans and Dubya fans morons. Hmm.

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