Wednesday, July 27, 2011

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.

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