The last few days, while I have been doing the usual things (walking around aimlessly ending with a beer at a pub), are what I would call the introspective time of the trip. It seems to coincide with the nights I have been sleeping in a room to myself.
Why? The previous Friday, I had been ready to get set for my ferry ride from Dublin to Holyhead, in northwest Wales, when I discovered that the sailing had been cancelled because the weather (which was unusually pleasant, ie. not raining) became a stormy mess overnight, and I was too late for an alternate until the following morning. This meant booking another night in Dublin, but I had just missed out on extending my stay at the hostel by five minutes. Since it was still pissing rain outside, and I’m too lazy to venture out and find a new hostel, I just booked a room at the adjacent B&B, but at €80 for one night, it was more than what I paid for the previous three nights at the hostel (€72). Needless to say, I was choked the rest of the day, and could only manage to walk a few blocks in a full downpour, huddle in a bookstore for a bit, then come back. You should see the crowd at the doors of the bookstore: the rain still coming down, everyone hanging back, praying that it eases up just slightly.
At least I managed to snag some cheap airfare back to Vancouver; it’s a direct flight from London, but only after booking that did I realize I would have to get back there from Paris. Some creative googling later, and I’ve come to the realization that a Eurostar train from Paris to London, then another train direct to the airport, would be the most painless way to ensure a timely arrival for check-in. However, the Eurostar train would set me back $200, and it’s liable to change (ie. go up) anytime. I’m booking that as soon as I finish this post.
For some reason, I found (or will find) myself staying on all three Welsh coasts: Llandudno on the north, Aberystwyth on the west, and Cardiff on the south. I wanted to try to make it to Hay-on-Wye, the supposed haven of second-hand booksellers, but it’s so out of the way you’d have to go through England if you want to get there. Llandudno and Aberystwyth are both pleasant seaside towns, the latter slightly geared more toward students, thanks to a university campus. I had booked a hostel dorm in Llandudno, but I ended up being the only one sleeping in that room (summer’s obviously over), and in Aberystwyth, I just walked around looking for accommodation with internet access, so I found a B&B with a single room (actually two beds, but the owner gave it to me for the single rate).
(Sorry, no pictures this time… Something’s not working to upload my files.)
Next: looking for Torchwood Three…
