One more night

It is my last night in London. My last night in the UK. I haven't updated as much as I originally wanted to and I apologize for that. I thought poking words into my iphone wouldn't be that annoying but it was. I did not update or email as often as I should. Good thing to remember for my next trip: bring something to type on with two hands.

I will do a quick re-cap of my last days since I last posted from Wales. I went to Bath and got in somewhat late but thanks to the crazy sunshine out here I had plenty of hours to walk around in daylight. Bath is so serene and one of my more favorite cities in England. It was relaxed. Nobody was rushing anywhere. The buildings were amazing beautiful. The air was warm with just enough breeze. I would happily go back there in an instant. There were a lot of green spaces that were just begging for me to sit in them and read but I could only do so much. After my first day of wandering about it was time to go to bed. It didn't go as well as planned. My first attempt of sleep ended up in a coughing fit and I found myself sitting in the common room watching "Angels & Demons" with a creepy local Bath resident who wanted to talk to me about the different ways of spelling and pronouncing yogurt (yoghurt). I tried to go back to bed again but that didn't last long because I didn't want to keep those around me up all night so it was back to the common room again. I fell asleep on the couch, sitting up, while the TV showed reruns of Friends. It was a pathetic sight but the weird Bath resident pointed me in the direction of the local health clinic. I went there the next morning.

The clinic was helpful with no wait. The nurse listened to my lungs and said 'ick'. It was pretty bad. She told me I should have come in much much sooner. I never learn. I was prescribed Amoxocillin for seven days to clear up the widespread infection in my lungs. Four days later it has helped me falling asleep but my lungs still feel heavy. Looks like I'll be visiting my doctor when I get back into town. I'm dubbing this the 'hobo cough'. If you ask nicely I'll tell you how I think I got this hobo cough but I'd rather not write about it online. It's embarrassing and gross.

The rest of Bath contained the Roman Baths for me which were fantastic. And HUGE. I thought I'd see a couple of old rectangular pits with dirty water in them and I was sorely wrong. It was a fantastic sight.

Then I went to Oxford and WOW. I thought the buildings in Bath were neat but these were neater. Old large buildings and a big university. I would gladly live in Oxford for a year. It was humming with energy but surrounded by gardens and old buildings. Plus there was a river flowing through the middle which means in my future canalboat holiday I could pull up anchor there for a bit.

The next day I got a fancy hotel room to myself so I could pack my bag and get a good nights rest. When I unpacked my bag, to repack, I couldn't find my pants. In a span of 12 hours I lost my only pair of jeans. Where I have no idea. Maybe my hostel in Oxford. Maybe they fell out of my bag on the train when I got my sweater out. Now I'm pantsless.

My fancy hotel had a swimming pool and it was so warm outside I couldn't contain my excitement. I gathered up my items, book and towel and camera and a snack and antibiotic, but the elevator said to get to the pool go to level '-1'. Bwah? It was a small indoor pool next to a steam room with an old lady watching over it. I felt like she was judging my every move in the water. Weird. Hotel pools should be outside in the sunshine. Always.

Now it is my last night in London. I didn't do much besides sit in a park and read. I walked by a flower market but they were closing up. I ate some ice cream. I made my last microwaved dinner for a long time at the hostel. The bus to the airport comes to get me in 8 hours. I should get some sleep but I'm too excited and nervous. Heathrow to JKF to SFO. It is going to be a long day but it will pay off when I get to hug two friends at the airport. It's been a long time since I hugged a good friend. It's the little things you end up missing. Oh and Ness. I'll see you soon. You better remember who buys your food.

A whale of a time in Wales

After two group trips and so many hostels sleeping in rooms with more strangers than I can count I treated myself to something special in Cardiff, Wales. I got my own hotel room for THREE NIGHTS. I paid a pretty penny/pound for it but it was worth it the moment I walked into that room.

I had left my hostel in Dublin early, 9.30am, to find the ferry to Wales. My plan was simple, put all my stuff on my back and walk towards the water. It wasn't that easy. I walked for two and a half hours sweating out whatever water my body felt like retaining while I coughed out the rest in globs. I wasn't a pretty sight when I rolled up to the ticket counter. Next ferry was at 2.30pm so I fell asleep in the terminal unable to buy any food because they only took euros and I spent my last one the night before on dinner I didn't eat. I had 12 pounds in change but they didn't care, so I slept. Then ferry. Then two trains. Then finally I got into Cardiff to check in at 11pm.

I was so happy I put my bag down to take photos then tripped over my bag as I ran across the room to look at my view. It wasn't worth the faceplant. King sized bed. Unnecessary couch. Kettle. TV. Hairdryer. Then I thought about the bathroom, and maybe I'd finally get my bath. In cruel, but hilarious, twist of fate I was in a disabled room and had a shower with a seat in it. But none the less it was all MINE. For three days. I went NPP and watched TV for too long. The best show in the world is by children's BBC called 'Horrible Histories'. YouTube it. It should be there. I watched hours of it. When I wasn't hacking my lungs up. I bought more meds. But never did I had a nice restful night. The last night there was the worst. At 1.30am I woke myself up by coughing so hard. I couldn't get a breath in. It felt like asthma, TB, and tonsillitis all at once. I had tears from my eyes and snot from my nose. Not a pretty picture. I'm glad I was alone. I sort of fell asleep sitting up right after drinking some hot honey water. Another near death experience avoided. When I woke up I felt much better. My sore throat was gone. And I trained over to Bath trying not to freak out the lady next to me with my deep throaty voice.

Cardiff was gorgeous. I wish I felt better to have experienced it. There was this park attached to the Cardiff Castle that was so serene you never knew you were in the middle of a city. There were big meadows just like Golden Gate Park but this was flat and was dotted with trees in the middle. You heard the rustling of leaves and not the sound of that screaming kid who got punched by their older sibling. I would have loved to have stayed there longer if the sun kept being warm and that one guy didn't creep me out (sitting to close to me and following me around when I walked somewhere). Also the signs were always in Welsh first and everything was extremely difficult to pronounce. I didn't talk enough to people to get a good/bad vibe off of them but I can tell you I love BBC TV. They are hilarious and get away with showing some very naughty stuff on TV.

Now I'm in Bath. Tomorrow is stonehenge. There is a Spaniard intensely watching Angels & Demons on DVD while two French girls giggle while on their phones. I miss my single room already. I'm coming home soon Ness, put some pants on and get those RSVPs back for my welcome home party.

Sick in Ireland

From my flight into Dublin I wasn't feeling too awesome. On the free shuttle from the airport to I met a nice kiwi who ended up being on my six day southern Ireland trip. It started off nicely. There were many Americans which was good and bad: I understood their accents but most of them were demanding jerks. Sigh. I made good friends with the other solo travelers and we had many silly nights until... the cough.

It started off mild but it got worse as the trip progressed. Cough drops wouldn't hack it anymore. I bought some meds that sort of worked for awhile. Then my new friend started getting sick too. I felt terrible. While on a day trip through the ring of Kerry my symptoms came on strong and my fellow sickmate said she just got some cold/flu capsules and I was welcome to them. I took two after lunch and don't remember much after that because they were a drowsy formula. Ugh. Damn UK labels and brands that I don't understand. I woke up to wander on the lovely sights but I was too doped up to remember anything or even remember to take photos.

The next day was better. I rode a horse named Jasper in an Irish national forest.

After that I ended up going back to the hostel early to get rest. I was a total lame-o especially after I bought this medicine called Exputex. It's an Irish thing moms often give to their babies with the grossest name ever invented. I won't tell you what it does but it did not make for a fun long bus ride.

What will I take away from Ireland? That I was terribly sick for most of it. The views were beautiful. The Irish pub songs are memorable. The dancing men were fantastic. But I think Scotland still holds my heartstrings.

Just another Saturday afternoon

Starting my Irish tour

Just got on the bus. All 22 women and one old bald guy. 80% Americans. A smattering of old people. The guide is already playing crappy Irish music. Grant me strength.

On the brightside... free WiFi on the bus!

Glasgow....

I was in Glasgow for two days. I didn't do much.

When I got in I felt ragged and sick, I think someone on the highland trip gave me their sickness. From the train station it turned out my hotel was 2 miles away so I huffed it with all my stuff on my back. I got in and the guy behind the desk was so happy he was able to put me and another American in a two bunk room. Texas wouldn't stop talking about everything and anything. She had apparently washed some items in the sink and turned on the heater to have it dry. But by bedtime we could not get the heater to turn off. I opened the window and tried to sleep off my sickness. I woke up at 3am in a sweat and my throat closed off. I was top bunk and it was hot as a witches womb up there. I gathered up my items and in a groggy state I went to the front desk. The night guard tried to show me how a real man turns off a heater... but he couldn't either. He took pity on me because he said he hates sleeping in heat as well. I got a two bed room upstairs to myself to pass out in and pass out I did. When I woke up around 11am the cleaning lady put me in another room for my last night which was a queen sized bed and shower/bathroom attached! Heaven! I went into town to buy medicine and watch Harry Potter. Then back to my room to watch BBC tv and tried to figure out who these celebrities were. I recognized David Hasselhoff and his daughters but no one else. Thanks chatty Texas girl! You get to be stuck in a hot room with s small TV because you messed with the heater and I don't have have to leave my room for hours (I got the wifi signal too!).

Then I left. Glasgow wasn't that great. A big industrial city with lots of shopping. We'll see if I come back.

Highland Pisser

Oh my. I haven't checked in since Manchester. Time to change that!

I got into my hostel in Edinburgh and it was the best one yet! Very close to the corner where I used to flier for SBJM. One night I was there it was a hostel pub crawl and I decided to go along. As I was getting ready in the room I noticed the girl on my bottom bunk was getting ready to go out on the pub crawl too! Rosemary and I latch on to one another and have a blast meeting all sorts of people: a Dutch, a south carolinian, and oodles of Aussies and Canadians. I had a lot of fun and this was just the beginning of a fun week.

I board my bus for the five day highland trip and I instantly see a girl I pub crawled with! Already two minutes into this adventure and I have a friend. The group is all ages all nationalities all ready for fun. The 23 of us spend the next several days seeing amazing sights, eating haggis, drinking, having more than one tartan toga party, experiencing rusty nails, listening to hours of stories from our tour guide, and respecting any hangovers. We had a blast and became a tight knit group. I am so thankful to have had this experience. Good friends too! I hope some of them visit in SF. Except for those many under 21 year-olds I met... I'll expect them to visit when they are of age. Tons of photos to come.

Now I'm in Glasgow. It's okay. I left my heart in Edinburgh.

Mother hen

Last night in the hostel (sorry all my posts as of late seem to be about the hostels) I was in a 10 bed mostly female room. Five girls were actively trying to sleep. Heads under blankets trying to block out the room light. I walk in and there is one girl screwing around on her phone another reading a book. It's almost 1am and I want to go to bed. I say I'm turning off the light and the girl reading stares daggers at me. But it's the right thing to do and we settle in for some sleep. 15 minutes later two boys walk into their room next to ours and are laughing, joking, singing, having a grand ol' time but we can hear every hindi word they say even though none of us spoke Hindi. After them not shutting up after several minutes I went over to knock on the door to give them a guilt trip and to embarrass them by saying they had a lovely singing voice. The Indian boys turned beet red and shut up for the rest of the night. Some times it does pay to be the oldest one in the room: I get my way.

Things the UK has a lot of

Here is a list I am compiling of things the UK has a lot of:

• Punks and punk culture
• Jumpers. Like clothing jumpers. The things you'd wear in 2nd grade.
• Mayonnaise. They try and sneak it into everything.
• Fake eyelashes.
• House techo music.

More to come later.

Snoring

I knew I've been too lucky. Tonight I have a snorer in the bunk above me. Another near my feet. Even with earplugs I can still hear them. I try to wiggle in bed so that the above me will chane their sleeping position but no luck yet. All I can do is hope the fourth person comes into the room soon to wake them up....

All I have to say is that Future Mr. Ann Pattison cannot snore. It'd be the end of me.

A strange new hostel mate

I am in Liverpool and have checked into the oddest hostel yet. I was only able to reserve two nights out of three and I was hoping once I got here I'd be able to make it all three nights in one place. He said no availability but I'll ask again tomorrow hoping for a cancellation. I am in a 10 bed mixed dorm. The vibe of the place is hospital ward with ikea furniture and really hip music piped in all the large empty rooms. There is no one here except for reception, an Asian kid watching anime on his laptop, and me. Really? No availability tomorrow??!? I find my large room with many beds in it and I am the only one in it. There is stuff at three other beds but it is midnight and I haven't seen any sight of them. Maybe I should be out at a pub but after my chaotic day of crying a lot and riding trains I decide to go bed. As I'm in my top bunk (tired of hitting the top of my head) I turn off the lights and settle down. Then I hear this sound of LICKING in my room. LICKING. My mind goes a mile a minute. Maybe I'm not alone in here. Maybe one of the others hostelmates was under a bed hiding when I came in. Maybe it's a zombie. I turn on the light and see a goddamn cat in the middle of the room bathing itself. A freaking cat. In my hostel room. I say hello and it walks over to smell all my stuff. Who does this cat think they are? After my year with Ness I now speak fluent cat and lured it into the hallway and closed the door. Win! It must have come in through the open window. I swear, if it's back again in the morning I will be on edge for the rest of my time here.

In other news, I've been in Liverpool for three hours and love it. I want to have my 35 birthday here with as many friends as possible. Maybe we can all rent this cat hostel together.

God bless library workers

I wouldn't normally do this but here is some advice: if you are my Mom stop reading this post now. I don't want you to worry more than you already do.

With that being said, it started out a normal day. Checked out even though I couldn't find my key card, ate some toast and drank some tea, then got on the trains to go to London. At my first stop over I thought I'd get some food for the next, longer, train ride. But where is my wallet with a couple of pounds, ATM card, credit card, drivers license???? Where? There? No. In there? No. Packed here? No. Shit. Sitting in a park I start to ball. I am making terrible sad sounds. No one even looks. I dump out my bags and check everything twice. Nothing. The tears fall harder but at least I have my passport and AmEx card in a safe spot. I try to dry my eyes and find a phone. I ask some women working the train station to help me call my hostel. Their phone can't connect the line. I tear up and walk away with them just looking at one another not sure how to react. I find a bar and beg the bartender to give me the wi-fi password so I can check my email. I ask him for a phone with blurry wet eyes and amazingly this bar has no phone! I cry again and start to wander the streets. I can't use any public phones, I have no change. I find a public library, God save the queen! Librarians are world known for being wonderfully nice and helpful so I look to them for some compassion. I explain to the guard at the door checking bags my story and he doesn't subject me to further humiliation by searching my gigantic backpack. I go up to a guy in coat check, tell him what happened and he says "Oy, you need to borrow a phone, eh? Here you are" and passes me his phone he was just texting on. No big deal to him. THE HOSTEL HAS IT. Thank the heavens. While I was so befuddled that the hostel didnt care if I didnt returned the room key or that they even needed my name on check out I left my wallet on the reception desk.

First huge lesson learned. I thankful I have an all day train pass today. I need to train back to Brighton to pick up the wallet, train to London, transfer, then get my butt to Liverpool.

I hope you didnt read that Mom, but if you did I am now extra aware of everything I do. I have a lot of time to think and reflect while I am on trains today.

Brighton, England

A reflection. I had a fun time spotted with some lonely times. The town was lovely and the beach gorgeous despite the very cold water. The pier was lovely with deck chairs you can sit in to watch the water and when you get bored of that you can gamble away your 2P which I did happily. Lots of tea places who did not mind me sitting and reading for hours. A giantic mansion built by George IV when he was young and single and loved to party. The outside is Indian influenced (think Taj Mahal) and ALL the decorations inside are Chinese. It seemed all out of place but magical az well.

The days in Brighton were warm and the nights were windy.

I am happy I choose a small 6 bed hostel room because the girls I was with were great. The first night I went out with the two young Aussie girls who love London and are starting a four month trip around Europe which I am jealous of. My other two nights two girls closer to my age who were in town for an OT conference took me out. Nothing much but I needed the conversation. I learned UK slang and what sweets to avoid and even some Irish history. Last night as we were walking home two gents were fancy on us and chatted us up. One even took my US phone number and swore to call me (even though he doesnt know my name and called me 'America' all night).

I'll go back to Brighton one day but it will probably be with family.

The thought of 31 more days alone is daunting and I worry that the friends I made briefly in Brighton was a fluke and won't happen again. So I have been proactive and have booked myself a 5 day bus trip in Scotland. Also this way my days will have more direction and I'll have some more history lessons while I'm here. I may be more poor than I thought when I get back to the states but I already look forward to cooking dinner on a regular basis.

Next stop, Liverpool.