Makeover

I started, and failed to continue, this blog two years ago when I was a wide-eyed young expat, wet behind the ears, morally determined to blend into Germany. Sadly I was one of those expats who lived an essentially British lifestyle, with English speaking friends. I didn't watch the news and I met very few Germans whom I didn't actually work with.

But I did meet The Dutchman (he deserves two capitals). And now, two years on, we are living together in a very nice flat in the very nice city of The Hague. I am therefore on Team Holland, and wore my orange world cup colours with pride (and a little bit of roaring).

So now the expat experience starts all over again. Let's see if I can be a little better at documenting it.

Watch this space.

Sorry, Mum, if you managed to find this blog only to see that I haven't updated. I am not in a ditch anywhere - in fact I've been so busy really that I've barely opened my laptop (a novel experience for me).

I've managed to get internet sorted for next Wednesday: for now I am in an internet cafe which is just that ... a cafe where you can surf the web as long as you like as long as you have a coffee with you as you type. And that is no hardship for me - I have extended my patronage to a chocolate muffin as well.

So I’m officially a real ex-pat now. I’ve got a German bank account, a German mobile, a German umbrella … all I need now is my lederhosen and some yodelling lessons and I’m good to go.

Or rather perhaps what I’ve got to do is let going of the Bavarian tourist-mongering stereotype and embrace the city and culture that I’m living with. I don’t want to be a Brit abroad who speaks only English and associates only with other English people. There are people in this city who don’t even know what’s going on in the country they live in because they can’t read the newspapers or understand the local news. I’m one of them. But I’m a newbie ex-pat. I have dreams of speaking German, of meeting German people. Perhaps one day, in the far far distant future, I shall be asked whether or not I come from Holland.

For now I am trying to read The Famous Five in German (I’m on page 40) and have decided to try to like Kölsch, having felt like an idiot with my sole glass of wine, and having also discovered that it's the cheapest drink around here.

Frazzled

I have never done so much ironing in my life before, have broken the suitcase scales, have still got far too much to pack and am not at all sure where my passport is.

All my bags are packed ... no, wait

Dear diary,

This is going to be the story of my trials and hopeful triumphs as an ex-pat in Cologne.

Of course, at the moment I am a wannabe ex-pat. I leave tomorrow.

And have yet to pack.

Let the games begin!