Wordsley, Stourbridge, England: 22 degrees, warmish, sunny and slightly overcast.
It’s Sunday, and it’s a day I particularly selfishly enjoy for myself.
Traditionally, I like to stay alone, especially in the morning, to have some quality time for myself. Or to do some work, housework, or leisure activities—basically to do something I like—an appointment with myself, and today has been no different.
I am up early, doing a bit of exercise, nothing too strenuous for a Sunday. Besides that, both my elastic band and my skipping rope are broken, so it’s a bit tricky. The day is nice; it’s a little chilly, but it’s sunny and pleasant.
People in England go out to catch some sun even when the temperature is in the high teens and early 20s, with everyone wearing T-shirts and lighter clothes, just like in Rio when it’s in the mid to high 30s and above.
After deciding what to do, I set out to walk along the canal towards Stourbridge. Since I arrived in England, I have taken this route—a sort of shortcut from Wordsley to Stourbridge along the canal—about 100 times, many with Julie.
The birds, squirrels, ducks, and swans are all out in force today; everyone wants some sun. The varying shades of green along the canal’s path contrast with the blue sky and the canal’s browns.
These days, you need to be careful when walking along the canal on a sunny day. In addition to the usual walkers, especially with their dogs, there are also many mountain bikers and e-bikers, which seem to be very popular at the moment.
English people are generally very well educated and polite, sometimes even more so than Brazilians, for various reasons and cultural differences. Still, they frequently speed along the canal paths, and when walking with Julie and Austin, I am always worried about Austin being hit by a bike.
I arrived in Lower High Street, Stourbridge, and then walked up to the upper part of the High Street, where the leading shops and Rye Market precinct are situated. I went to Waitrose, a more upmarket supermarket like ‘Zona Sul’ in Rio, because Julie asked me to buy instant Chai Latte from there, as it’s the only place that stocks it. I couldn’t find it, so I asked a very kind assistant, and she quickly showed me where it was.
Whenever I am looking for something or need information about a situation, I like to break the ice by asking someone, ‘Can I ask you a stupid question?’
On 99.9% of occasions, it breaks the ice, and the person is usually at ease and helpful. I have received some interesting answers over time, the best being an assistant in Aldi who said, ‘Yes, go for it!’ which I thought was brilliant.
I thanked Ria for her help and also asked her about dried black beans, which they did not have, and I was quickly leaving the supermarket. Exactly opposite Waitrose was WH Smiths, a traditional stationer, gift, and paper shop, which, when I was a young teenager more than 40 years ago, would be bustling with people, especially at the weekend.
At that time, more importantly because of the LPs, I remember buying the Bee Gees’ Greatest Hits, Jean-Michel Jarre’s double LP Chinatown, and ELO’s classic Greatest Hits.
Now the store is entirely deserted, and when I mentioned this to Julie, she said that it was closing down. Nobody buys magazines anymore, and LPs are a thing of the past—only for nerds and collectors.
I bought some pens that I love these days because of my writing, then popped into the shop next door, Peacocks, where I have bought quite a few clothes since arriving in England. Julie hates them because they’re not fashionable, but I think you can find good stuff at reasonable prices if you look carefully.
I bought another Panama hat because Julie has my other one in her car. I left the shop wearing it, happy as a pig in mud. Wearing a Panama on a hot, sunny day to protect your face feels surreal. I had a quick wander around Stourbridge, and although it was Sunday, many shops were open and quite a few people were in the streets.
Now walking down Lower High Street in Stourbridge, past The Old Wharf where I enjoyed a superb dinner with Julie last night, then back onto the canal to return to Wordsley and meet my mother for lunch. When it suddenly struck me, standing in front of this fantastic pub I visited last night, why not have a drink before heading home? It’s midday on Sunday, my day, so I can treat myself to a drink, so I did!
It was still early, and there were few people inside. I got a table near the window. I bought a pint; I believe it’s the first pint I’ve had since arriving in England, or at least the first in a long time. It was one of the most special, surreal experiences I’ve had in England so far. Just sitting in probably my favourite pub, drinking a lager and lime on a beautiful English day, feels so good!
I drank another beer and sent her a photo of the pint by the window, but I didn’t tell her it was the second one.
I spent a good 40 minutes in the pub, drinking my beer, sending voice messages to people in Brazil, and even buying some crypto. It was like heaven on earth, but I had to leave. Walking back along the canal, I was home in 20 minutes, just in time for my Sunday lunch.
My mother had prepared vegetables and so on, and all I had to do was grill the steak. The lunch was very nice, with lots of food—too much, really—but it was pleasant. I washed the dishes and went upstairs to relax.
Julie called a couple of times; sometimes our conversations lasted more than an hour, which is completely crazy, but for some reason, it went very quickly. We did not meet in the evening; I wanted to stay quiet, and she respected that.
In bed by 9:30 p.m.
Thank you.
Thanks for reading this blog post. Please explore my other posts and share your thoughts in the comments section.
Richard
