I Am Not Nic

I am not Nic. Fear not though, I come in peace. Also, I have not done anything to hurt Nic in anyway, he’s fine, promise, and will be right back. As well as not being Nic, I am not German, as the title of this blog may have insinuated. I am, however, someone who is reasonably well placed to chuck in my two cents on topic while, hopefully, not completely jeopardising the good work done so far by our valiant author.  

Just like Nic, I have made my home in Germany for the past few years. However, if I am honest, this was never my plan, but it has been working our pretty well through a combination of dumb luck and good fortune.  Now, a great many people pick up their things and bugger off to another nation for a variety of reasons: love, opportunity, a better life, better weather, a lack of an extradition policy, the list goes on. My choice to come here was none of the above. Instead, I found myself here through coincidence and fluke.

I should now take the time to let you know that I do have history here. In fact, I was born here. I was, in my early years, an army brat, nuzzled safely in the remnants of English military presence in the north of this nation. I was four when my family moved back to the UK though I often came back here during holidays until I was 13 or so as my father returned here for continued work with the forces. As it stands now, I have spent more than 7 years of my life here, allowing me to feel very comfortable in calling this place my second nation. I hasten to say that I have no German blood in me, unless there was some sly international sex in the murky backwaters of my genealogy that my family has strived to keep from me for all this time. I doubt such a conspiracy theory though. In spite of only having English and some Welsh blood in my veins, I have no qualms in being called European (Yeah, fuck you UKIP – see picture), I feel as though I am, never more so than when walking the medieval streets of my new city, even if they do lead to the safe haven of the English pub I drink in.

photo 1

Anyway, back to why I am here now. As I said, I never intended to be here. I got back to the UK after near on 6 months kicking it in South America filled with wide-eyed dreams of work in Spain or Italy, you know, somewhere warm and lovely. After many weeks lacking joy of any kind, there was only one thing for it, a widening of the parameters. Once done, a job popped up in Nürnberg (Nuremberg to heathens), a city I had visited on a school trip when I was 17 years old doing my German A-level. Feeling suitably at ease with the idea of working in Nürnberg, I clicked apply, did my thing and found myself in a classroom here some 4 days later, a bit baffled how the whole thing had come to pass. I signed a 1 year contract with no intention of doing any more than that and now find myself having just agreed to extend my stay to hit the 4 year mark. The money’s good and all that, but the reason I am still here is that I have fallen in love with this country again and see no reason beyond family and friends back home in Blighty to move on from where I am now. I am English and am proud to say I love Germany (Yeah, fuck you BNP and EDL, you bunch of bastards). I don’t care who knows it either. The people are good (if a bit forward with their thoughts at times), the area I live in is stunning (especially if you like old walls and castles), the food is tasty (as long as you like pork and quickly master the art of ordering vegetables as a side order to avoid a meaty gravy bonanza) and the beer is amazing (save for the absence of ale). Above all though, it is the quality of life here. What you get in relation to the cost still, 3 and a bit years in, blows my tiny little mind and is hard to comprehend. More on that later though. 

photo 2

Anyway, that’s me. Maybe it helps, maybe not, but I hope it goes to show that Nic and I are not necessarily coming from the same place (I am, after all, a dirty southerner – his words, not mine). I want to do my part in boosting relations between the two nations I love above all others whilst not letting the doors fall off on this ever more impressive blog young Nic has crafted.

Until next time,

Safety First.

Maddox

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