20 Things I'll Miss About Winchester.

There are a million and one things that I will miss about Winchester. I’m not even relocating far away - I’m just heading to Southampton which is the next city over. Winchester couldn’t be more different though, and it’ll be those differences that I notice when I wake up to a train going past rather than the bells of the cathedral. 

So, in my last week of being a fully fledged Winchesterite, I’m doing lots of reminiscing and waxing lyrical about the city I’ve spent the last four years of my life in. Here’s a short selection of the long ol’ list things that I will miss about Winchester; 

1. Winchester in the Summer.
   Winchester in the summer is so ridiculously picturesque, it’s almost annoying. Cathedrals and beautiful architecture book end every street and the people are so unique, it’s hard not to be inspired and intrigued by the people that flock into town for things like The Hat Fair.
   
   
2. Cathedral Grounds.
   Speaking of people flocking; the Cat Grounds seems to have some sort of magnetic force field which attracts anyone and everyone in a two mile radius, making them lay out on the grass and sun-worship. Families with small French Bulldogs called Gloria and a thousand foreign students, rocking their bright orange NCS T-shirts.
   
   
3. Locals.
   This sounds strange, but you do learn to recognise certain Winchester faces even though you may never interact with them. There’s the man who often sits outside either Costa or ASK Italian who set his feet on fire not too long ago. There’s the older gentleman who busks with his steel guitar, playing the most beautiful Ice Cream Truck melodies that fill the air of the high street. The blonde woman, that crosses my path every week day; no idea who she is, or what she does, but she’s always walking the opposite direction to me around 930 every morning and she always smiles.
   
   
4. Maya from Starbucks
   Beautiful Maya; she knows my coffee order and I sometimes get her free stuff from Lush. She’s always happy and smiling and only once have I ever seen her hungover and even then it was still somewhat endearing.
   
   
5. Jack from Costa
   There’s a guy who works at Costa who’s saving for an MA in Cognitive Neuroscience. How cool is that? He tried to talk to me once like I didn't know what ‘synesthesia’ meant or like I didn’t quite get what ‘cognitive’ meant, but aside from that he’s interesting and he’s always nice to me when making my Peach Ice Tea to go (with an extra pump of Peach Syrup).
   
   
6. Sainsburies on my doorstep
   Although this has become an expensive habit, the staff at Sainsburies regularly see me rushing across the round at 7:49pm to stock up on Monster, carbs and Italian meats before they close at 8pm. Will I ever learn to go before closing? Probably not. Do they still ID me? Never; which makes me feel hella old.
   
   
7. Sunday Markets
   Winchester is famous for it’s markets; there’s a huge billboard at Waterloo Station at Christmas advertising Winchester’s Nordicesque Christmas Market and the rest of the year, Winchester alternates between the weekly fresh fruit and food markets to the Sunday markets. Sunday Market’s alternate between Arts & Crafts markets where you can find amazing things, including none other than my person favourites Remnant Black and Noah’s Arts & Crafts, and Vintage & Antique Markets where I can always find something to convince myself I need.
   
   
8. My Bath Tub
   Working for Lush, it’s an occupational hazard that you may fall in love with your bath tub. I’m moving from my two bed in Winchester to a room in a Young professional house in Southampton where my house-full of things must go into one room and there are only two showers. No tub. I have made this decision because of purely financial reasons and unfortunately the bath became something I couldn’t keep. Friends with baths, I will be inviting myself to your house for bathing on a semi-regular basis, hope you’re all okay with this.
   
   
9. KKB Sundeck
   Although I only visited the deck a couple times, each time was wonderful. Good smoothies, always catches the last of the summer evening sunshine, and a great view of the uni and the trees beyond. You forget you in the centre of a city when you’re surrounded by so much green.
   
   
10. Wolvsey Castle Ruins
    Continuing on with the theme of green…
    Wolvsey Castle Ruins are the perfect place for a picnic especially when the Cat Grounds are full of freshers and small children who don’t understand that I just wanna soak up a little sun and talk with my friends. People seem to forget it’s there, which is quite nice when you remember, but also it’s another good spot for the last of the summer evening sunshine.
    
    
11. The Cathedral ‘Spot’
    Staying on the idea of finding your own spot in the sun, my friend Cassi introduced me to her Winchester Sun Spot recently; third bench in from the right behind the Cathedral (where the majority of the christmas market stall usually are erected) - it’s so warm there; it’s sheltered so you never get the chill of the breeze, and you’re in direct sunlight for the most of the day so it’s the perfect place to top up your tan with a book or grab a quick coffee and soak up your recommended daily allowance of vitamin D on your lunch break!
    
    
12. Fruit Market Lady
    I want to say her name is Jane, something like that; Jane, or Kate…something short and simple which coincidentally is a lot like her. She’s just a woman, no more than 5’5 who works on the fruit and veg stall in Winchester, but boy does she have some pipes on her. She’s got that “Two punnet’sa raspberries for a pand!” down perfectly - the Winchester high street soundtrack would be lost without her shouts peppering the street.
    
    
13. Yasmin from the Co Op
    Yasmin doesn’t even know my name and that is absolutely fine. Every day after work, I’d get off the train at Winchester station and head into the Co Op. She was always there; hair and make up always impeccable, but in an effortless way. We bonded over sarcastic eye rolls at crazy customers and we wallowed in misery about how the days seemed neverending.
    
    
14. Winchester Coffee Lifestyle
    I know this must sound strange, but because Winchester is so small and because there are so many coffee shops, it’s very easy to fall into what I call Winchester Coffee Lifestyle. Meeting friends for coffee becomes a regular, if not daily, occurrence because everyone is so busy but they’re more than happy to stop for 1/2 an hour for a coffee.
    
    
15. The White Company
    I’ll miss The White Company store in Winchester because I worked for TWC in London and the stores, the scents and the high thread count sheets remind me of a really good time in my life. Except the time that a bottle of Wild Thyme Room Spray ended me in A&E but that’s another story.
    
    
16. Bar Girl/Bar Owners
    I worked in four bars in my time in Winchester, which was again a really good time in my life. Whilst I wasn’t a massive fan of the hours, the people I met and the silliness that took place made up for that. Winchester has many many bars and pubs, but most of them are owned by the same people; Jane owns The Mucky Duck, The Corner House, The Green Man and I’m sure something else, at the time Colin owned The Exchange, Alfie’s, The William Walker and then of course, David has The Black Bottle, The Black Rat, The Black Boy and now The Black Hole. When you work in hospitality in Winchester, it is very likely that at some point you will end up working for one of the aforementioned. They all come with their own pro’s and con’s but bar work’ll bring you an interesting lifestyle you can’t quite decide if you like or not.
    
    
17. Knowing every third person on the street
    Having worked in hospitality in Winchester, your world becomes smaller.
    Having lived in the city centre, your world becomes even smaller.
    You begin to realise that you recognise faces of almost everyone around you, if not you know them personally. This is good on one hand, because you’re never too far from a friendly face, unfortunately on the other hand, this also means you're never too far from a not-so friendly face. I like knowing people and saying Hi in the street, but I’m not a fan of the Wessex Whisperers spreading my  business around.
    
    
18. University
    Winchester University has been my centre of education for the past four years, so it’s no wonder that I’m going to miss it. The buildings themselves all hold sensitive and scandalous memories  (that belong not just to me, but also my many house/course mates) it’ll be interesting to see how I feel about it in a few years. Not to mention of course the lecturers; crying on Vanessa, a near-miss car crash with an unnamed American Studies lecturer and of course two unforgettable weeks in Vegas as part of the American Studies course.
    
    
19. Prison, Hospital, Law Courts, Melbury Lodge
    I don’t know whether it’s because Winchester used to be the capital of England, or whether it’s because it’s not too far from London, or even simply just because it’s a well established city but Winchester is well equipped for everything. If you need inspiration for your Creative Writing degree, it’s all right there waiting on your doorstep. I’ll miss that about Winchester, but I’m sure I’ll find new inspiration.
    
    
20. The friends that have become family.
    Of course, this is going to sound a little soppy, but it’s true. I met some life long friends in Winchester, some I speak to everyday and some I don’t speak to for weeks but when I do, we pick up right where we left off. My Aunt always used to say to me ‘It’s the friends you meet at University that you keep for life, not those you meet at College…’ - and she couldn’t have been more right. People who I thought were my best friends in College, I haven’t heard from in years. The girls and guys I met in my years in Winchester will always be with me, even if geographically they couldn’t be further away. 

Collectables

They say that the word ‘now’ is a bomb that’s thrown through your window, whose wick you can watch fizz away into nothing. When I think about time, I think about how things come back into fashion; like leotards and high-waisted shorts, skinny jeans and Converse.

Time is a dressmaker whose speciality is alterations.

Time is who I was and who I am and all the things I know now.

Time is the new and the old and the difference in between.

The only thing that stops time is a photo. A moment caught on camera, captured for the world to see; what we were wearing, what we were doing, who we were friends with…

*

Manhattan, NYC. 2001.

 Jason’s grandmother had sadly passed away recently and she’d left him her house in Dallas. He was more interested in the vintage camera he’d found in the attic than anything else in the house. The moment he saw it, he knew he had to have it. There would have been so much history wrapped up in it, he just wanted to be a part of it. It was a camera that, he had decided, was probably from the early sixties. It had a dent in the side, but it was still worth the best part of $500, and that was today. Jason couldn’t imagine how much it would have cost in the sixties; let alone how much it must have meant to someone.

It was still early in the morning but the sun was already bright in the Manhattan sky. People in suits rushed up and down town to get where they had to be and no one noticed that the sky was unusually clear for early September.

Smartly dressed in his grey pinstripe suit, Jason left his apartment on 87^th and Lexington just like he did every morning. When every morning was the same, he could cruise through on autopilot. This morning was slightly different as he had to pop into Duane Reade on the corner to pick up some photos he’d had developed. His grandmother’s camera had at least fifty undeveloped pictures on it.

As he walked to the bus stop, packet of photos in hand, he thought about his family and mused about his life just as you do when you’re walking somewhere you know so well. His wife left for work the same as he did every morning, but she went the opposite way; she worked on the West Side.

His family life was hectic, but that faded from his head as he got to the bus stop.

Settling on the bus, Jason sat in the same seat he did every day. Second in from the right; it was the idyllic spot to watch his favourite city go by and to psyche himself up for the day ahead. He tucked his newspaper under his arm, and flipped open the lip on the packet of photos; he expected family photos, old family pictures of kids playing in the sun or maybe a school graduation.

 It was this fascination with the past that enthralled the man so much into parting with his money for some photos someone else would have just let rot in an attic.

*

Dallas, TX. 1963.

Bonnie and her friends practically ran to the corner of the street, squeezing through the masses of people and hubbub on the street, all trying to get to the same place.
One girl put her hands on Bonnie’s shoulders “This is the most exciting thing to happen all year!” A group of young girls had been given the day off work to see the President and his wife on their visit to Dallas; they lined the sidewalk all wanting the best view.

Outside the Texas Book Depository in Dealey Plaza the streets were a mass of people all moving at once. A whole range; young women just like the secretaries from the office down the street; old men who wanted to say they’d seen President Kennedy in the flesh before they died, little children who looked on in awe and laughed at the hordes of people hunting down their spot on the grass bank. Everyone wanted their glimpse of the Kennedy’s; he was a celebrity and she a fashion icon.

“Do you remember that little pink dress she wore in Vienna?” The youngest of the girls asked Bonnie. Ensuing a moment of clamouring fashion talk, all the girls talking over one another, smoothing down each other’s clothes and plucking at loose threads.

Bonnie swapped the camera in her hands back and forward; it was heavy and her hands were slightly clammy. She didn’t understand why she felt so nervous. Winding the handle that allowed the camera to capture moving images; Bonnie made sure she had enough recording time to see the President’s motorcade.

Having a camera at her age was a complete rarity. Bonnie knew this, she knew she didn’t earn very much herself and she knew people around her were looking, wondering how she had the means to a camera such as this one. Truth be told, it was a gift from her parents for her twenty first birthday this year. They both saved all year so she could have it and it meant so much to her. And now look, here she was. Standing on the edge of history; holding history, watching history. She was going to be a part of history.

“Oh gosh, I can hear them coming!”

The streets grew quiet as the sound of a car pulled along an adjoining street. The cheers made the tension in Dealey Plaza that much more exciting. The people of Texas collectively held their breath.

“Bonnie, get ready! He’s coming. He’s really coming.” Bonnie’s friend tittered in her ear as she smiled.  Bonnie took a shaky breath in and held her camera up to her face as the President’s motorcade got closer.

 ‘Maybe he’ll be wearing a grey suit’ Bonnie thought to herself, her excited eyes craning to see. ‘He always looks good in grey. And Jackie, maybe pink again? No. White, she’ll be wearing white I bet.’

The President’s motorcade seated the President in the back along with his wife Jackie accompanied by Governor Connelly and his wife in the front. As it slowly entered Dealey Plaza the cheering erupted; the shouting and the sight of handsome President Kennedy made Bonnie smile unawares. Her chest swelled with a rise of patriotism in her heart, there was no positive emotion that she wasn’t feeling; happiness and the excitement of standing at the edge of history.

President Kennedy was smiling and waving and as he pulled past Bonnie was adamant he looked right at her and smiled. She struggled to keep her camera up and steady from all the jostling around her.

Jackie Kennedy, America’s first lady, as beautiful and poised as ever sat next to her husband. She waved delicately out to the crowd and giggled happily at their smiling joyful faces; she held the flowers she’d been given upon arrival in Dallas on her lap, from where Bonnie was stood they looked like red roses. Governor Connelly and his wife were equally as present, smiling just as the Kennedy’s were but something was different.

‘He is the Governor of Texas, but he’s nowhere near as handsome as Mr. President’ Bonnie thought as her eyes followed the car, along with her camera. ‘They’re just not as glamorous.’

 “Mr. President, we love you!” Sandra from the office yelled as the car approached. Bonnie laughed; everyone in the office knew Sandra was a big fan. Sandra’s eyes had glazed over with glee; she wanted to commit this memory to her brain for life. The day she saw President and First Lady Kennedy, in her very own town, down the street from her own little office job.

An unexpected sound ripped across the forecourt of the plaza, making every single head turn, every hair on the back of every neck prickle up.

 “What was that!?” The girls grabbed onto each other, their frantic eyes scanned the crowds around them. Bonnie kept her camera up, confused. She saw people grasping their children close and collapsing flat on the grass as if to avoid gun shots or an explosion.
“Did the motorcade blow a tyre?”

Another bang.

And then one more.

“Oh my Gosh, Kennedy’s been shot. They shot the President!” Someone in the crowd cried as people fled from the streets in hysteria, some already in floods of tears.  Bonnie looked up from the viewfinder on her camera to see the right portion of her beloved President’s head get blown away into nothing, across Jackie’s white suit.

“No…They’ve shot the President!”

Bonnie’s hands fell out of the air, her limbs suddenly jelly. The camera landed harshly on its side.

*

Leaning his shoulder against the side of the bus made Jason’s seat rumbled as he watched Manhattan fly by his window; the tourists, the New-Yorkers, the jay walkers. His unopened pocket of his freshly developed photos sat on the seat next to him. The bus was fairly empty, even as it crawled down town.

As he was about to open the photos and leaf through what he was sure to just be pictures of his grandmother’s youth when he noticed a little boy playing a few seats in front of him. He smiled, the child could have been no older than seven or eight and he sat with his mother reading aloud all the street signs that they passed on their route.

“East seventy second street…”

The vibration on the man’s shoulder was stronger than usual, he knew because he took this bus on this route so often, sometimes twice a day.

“East sixty fifth street…”

He felt it in his legs, and eventually it crept up and grew in his chest too.

“East sixtieth street…”

The rumble kept growing, quietly for now but definitely getting bigger, getting faster.

“East fifty seventh street…” The child went on.

“Mommy...Mommy!” The child tugged on his mother’s coat sleeve.

“Look Mommy, a plane!” he said, his skinny little arm pointed up.

Jason, in his the grey pinstripe suit, looked up again from his blackberry and craned his neck to glance out of the dirty bus window.
The little boy was right, it was a plane.

All the man could think was “My God…’

The man’s eyes were transfixed on the large moving object in the sky above them.
He strained his eyes to make sure he was seeing what he thought he was seeing.
He raised his phone to the window and he took a picture.

‘...that plane is flying awfully low.”

*

Newtown, CT. 2012.

Show and tell was Izzie’s favourite part of her teaching week. Friday morning, in her elementary school, meant that Miss Izzie Smith got to hear all about her student’s favourite new toy or something they’d done with their families over the past weekend. It was first grade she was teaching, which meant all of her students were only six or seven but seeing their faces light up when they talked about their older brother’s new car or the new family dog made Miss Smith’s week. 

Currently, Oscar James was snivelling at the back of the classroom because it wasn’t his turn to take Chocolate, the class hamster, home with him this weekend. Megan Rowe was doing a wonderful show-and-tell presentation about a camera her Uncle Jason had given her when she and her family went to visit him in New York City, or as Megan referred to it “…the place where the all lights are always on and no one ever tells you to turn them off…”

Her Uncle Jason had become very well known in the last ten years or so because he’d bought a vintage camera online, the camera Meg was telling class 4E about now, and he’d found pictures from 1963 when Kennedy was shot stored in the film. He eventually commissioned the photos into an exhibition at The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York and gave the camera to Megan, as long as she promised to let her Mommy and Daddy take very good care of it.

“…and Uncle Jason says that if I held it up to my face like this…and look through this tiny whole here…” Miss Smith listened intently to Megan’s story “…that I can see history from all of America…”  She was interested, but also delighted in the progress Megan had made since she’d been in this class. That was the trouble with being an elementary school teacher, especially with younger children, you get so attached when you watch them grow up and then when they move up into the next grade, you end up missing their funny little ways.

Class started at 7.30am, because the younger ones don’t have homeroom, but about 9.35am Miss Smith heard what she thought sounded like popcorn loudly popping come over the classroom intercom.

Megan heard it too and stopped talking momentarily to look up at her teacher.

“It’s okay Megan, you carry on…” Izzie smiled, nodding enthusiastically to the little blonde girl.

Smoothing her grey pencil skirt down, Izzie headed over to the door of her classroom, looking back at her students for a second who were still all watching Megan. Izzie opened the door and stepped out slightly, she noticed Miss House from the classroom opposite doing the same.

“Did you hear the…” Izzie’s casual comment to Miss House was cut off by a door slamming at the end of the corridor their class rooms were on.

A man stood at the door way about 100ft away from the women and looked at them for what felt like eternity, before slowly, sadistically raising his right arm until it was parallel to the shiny grey tiles under his feet.

In his arms he cradled what the women knew to be a gun and yet a second passed before they registered.

“Run!” Izzie screamed at Miss House across the corridor and they both slammed themselves back into their classrooms as Adam Lanza, the man with the rifle, ran towards them.

Doors closed but not locked, both women rallied their children who were beginning to panic.

“What’s wrong Miss Smith?”

“Why are you running, we’re not allowed to run?”

*

They say that the word ‘now’ is a bomb that’s thrown in through your window, whose wick you can watch fizz away into nothing.

It turns out that time can stop, if only for a moment.  

Clocks stop ticking, phones stop ringing and dogs stop barking.

These are the moments we remember for the rest of our lives.

Nevermind November.

I'm tired. Very tired.
I'm selfish. My laptop's just died it's final death. No resurrection possible. (My guess, anyway.)
I'm putting off writing my Dissertation by writing this.
I'm putting off my essay about American Conspiracies by writing this.
I'm thinking of doing a Masters, which means oned ay my name might be;
Miss Lex Brookman MA
...Or something like that.

I have a meeting at 9am with my designated dissertation supervisor and I am regretting deciding to book in at 9am. Why so early?
Every monday evening with tuesdays 9am meeting looming, I sigh into bed dreading the next day. I never thought University would be like that.
I assumed thast University would inspire me and make me a better person. Okay, so it probably has, but the magic is fading.

I'm in my third year. My first semester of my third year and God only knows what I'm going to do next year if I don't do a Masters. Am I more employable with a Masters?
Can I take another year of working alongside University to pay the bills?
Can I take another year of working in the same God forsaken pub with the same people?

I have no idea.
But I do know that I don't want to have to worry about it anymore.

I need to find a place to live.
I need to find another job.
I need to talk to someone about the possibility of me getting a 2:1 on this degree.
I need to talk to someone about the possibility of me getting onto a Masters course I may actually enjoy and benefit from.
Most importantly and on top of all of that, I need to make time for my boyfriend who never stops trying to make time for me.

A Visit From A Royal...

A royal what?
No-no an actual Royal. 

A member of the Royal family. 

Brother of the more well-known Prince Charles (aka The Prince Of Wales), we were visited by Prince Edward, Earl Of Wessex. He was officially opening the new St.Alphege building at The University Of Winchester. A building I'd been having classes in for the past 3 months.
Being almost fifty he looked good for his age, but he still wasn’t the twenty eight year old Prince Harry I would have much preferred a visit from. Still, Harry is probably off gallivanting in Vegas, doing God knows what with God knows who.

Anyway, it was the morning of Tuesday, 29 January  when Prince Edward graced our class with his presence. Half way through a class actually; Truman Capote’s In Cold Blood.
Cameras and reporters from The Hampshire Chronicle and The Echo milled around the room, as I sat there: hair sticking up all funny from the rain, yesterdays clothes and barely one cup of coffee inside me, incredibly photogenic.

The brief conversation Prince Edward had with our group now deserts me – it can’t have been that scintillating. I do however; remember noting how...unroyal he looked. No sparkly crown, no jewels, no luxurious red cape trimmed with white feathers...
I was disappointed. The Mayor had more bling than the Prince. He was rocking his ostentatious gold chain. Standard.

Gone as quickly as he arrived, it seemed the mental list of inappropriate things to say, forced manners and nerves were soon redundant. I must admit, when we received our ‘one minute warning’ of our guests approach, it did feel vaguely reminiscent of a film when the President of the USA is in the building.

If Prince Edward really wants to see our University in action, with students in their natural habitats, maybe he should amend his visiting times and check out the local watering hole. Make it midnight, on a Wednesday at the SU.
If Harry is anything to go by, the royals know how to party.