Mam na imie Sam, jestem z Anglii, jestem nauczicielem

A little forewarning for those of you who blush at the sight of swear words. Grandparents, and the like. I hate to break this to you but I swear. Like a trooper. So please don't think any less of me!

Europop, the scurge of well, Europe. A song came on the radio at lunch time and it consisted of the words 'you've got the sweetest arse in the world' repeated for about 3.5minutes. Well it's hardly Dylan. But then I don't get Dylan, the whining little bugger. I've got plans on where to put that harmonica.

So, where to start? I've arrived and been a 'dirty migrant' for three days and i've already taken one of their jobs. But more on that later.

I've spent the last few hours playing with a large 1.5kg ball of fluff that is Kizhia, a 3month old kitten. She is the cutest little thing in the world and her daily schedule looks like this: wake up, pee, run around for two hours like a headless chicken, eat, sleep, fall in to bath, run around again playing with anything that dangles, shines, makes a noise and/or moves, change of activity to bumping in to walls and walling off beds in a heart meltingly cute way, lick Sam's forehead, eat/drink/pee, sleep, suckle a rug that she thinks is her mummy, puncture Sam's ankles, nearly knock over 85yr old, blind grandmother, bedtime. Watching her is a great way to pass time.

I'm in Bydgoszcz at the moment, house-sitting Karolina's Grandmother and the cat. It's a funny town. So ugly in parts like a slightly run-down, communist inspired Milton Keynes (A lovely vista I think you will agree) - a collection of huge roundabouts and trams, and ugly tower blocks. and then you get in to the old town which really pretty - all brightly coloured 19th Century buildings and cobbled streets lined with huge umbrellas advertising beer brands I managed to get lost on one huge subway underneath one of these roundabouts. Four times I walked up different flights of stairs and four times I was on the right street. There are 12 exits!!!!! Felt like the Prisoner. Every time I tried to retrace my steps I was confronted by the same stall owner selling fetching lime-coloured tiger-print bras and jelly shoes.

Coming from Poznan on the train to Bydgoszcz is not particularly scenic. The odd hill and that's about it. The stations keep getting smaller smaller until you realise that platform one has become a potato field. It is nearly totally farmland. and basically empty. But its scarey to imagine that 65yrs ago this was a picture of total distruction. No wonder the war in this part was so bloody. It is just a flat expanse, no vantage points or anything. Imagine the German forces one side and the Russians on the other. Carnage. Lord knows how many bodies are buried in mass graves along those tracks.

My first two days in Poznan were a mixed bag. I had forgotten that K's sister's boyfriend was storing his stuff in the flat. All of it. So it is a little cramped currently and we're not sure when he is leaving. It's not too much of a problem but he's the type of person who eats all your food and forgets to replenish it. and he's half German. Ho hum.

I managed to get myself locked out the first morning. Aparrantly to have to pull her door to you, and simultaneously slowly put the key in the lock, turn it to the left and pull the key to the right. I tried for 15minutes and nearly had a panic attack (interview in 45minutes).

So the job, yeah. Well I managed to wangle an interview with an organisation called Program Bell; a US based english language school. I turned up and she offered me a job on the spot after some negotiations with colleagues and another school. I'll be teaching in a local school for 10hrs per week and in the private school in the city centre for 20hrs. What is more fun though is that I'm also going to be teaching cookery!!!!!!!!!! Move over Jamie Oliver you fat-tongued mockney twat. It's only going to be once a month but it should be a laugh!