North American psychiatry is exactly as I'd imagined it would be. On the wall, certificates. Mahogany furniture and bookshelves stuffed with books. And a bust (not of Freud, but Hippocrates).
And a couch. OK, it's not a chaise longue (it looks more like something you might see in a DHS advert) but a couch all the same.
It's about a million miles away from the NHS.
Didn't have much to do today so went shopping instead. My timetable is looking quite relaxed which is good, so I have time to just chill. I like this city.
And everyone here *loves* the English accent. Really. Sample conversation in bookshop today with book guy "Wow...I love your accent. I'm guessing....Wales?"
Me: "No, London."
Book guy "Riiiight. I guess I thought it just sounded a little more Northern..."
(I really need to get these people a map of the British Isles!)
And I'm still trying to get my ears around Canadian French. Apparently when I speak French, I speak with a 'French' accent. Funny that.
No comments:
Post a Comment