Greetings from Cardiff

Hey all,

I'm on the road again. This time back to the UK. Yesterday was exhausting! After waking up at 7 and getting to the airport by 9 to pick up my cousin's girlfriend that was coming into Amsterdam, I discovered that my flight had been pushed back 2 hours. Not only that, but I missed my cousin's girlfriend! At least that's what I think happened, because I couldn't find her. After an hour and a half of waiting I gave up. Deciding to go pin some money to get a much needed cup of coffee, I discovered that I was completely broke! Apparently I still hadn't been paid. Go figure. THIS meant that I would not only be stuck with out coffee, but I wouldn't be able to even get myself from the airport in Bristol to Sandras place!

Luckily for me. Nien and Gilles came to the rescue. Armed with $150 Euros they drove to the airport on their way to Eppe and not only semi-relieved me of my now forming ulcer, but got me out of a tricky situation. So, hereby, thank you Nien and Gilles. You're a Godsend.

I finally checked in at 12 and then spent the next 2 hours waiting to board my flight. It's funny, how when you want something so badly, time seems to slow down to almost a creeping rate and though this summer seems to be flying at an alarming one, let me tell you, those two hours seemed more like an eternity. I could have died, reincarnated and been placed back in those 2 hours and no one but me would have been the wiser.

On a happier note, I sat next to what must have been one of the hottest Welsh men I've seen in a while, who asked me for drinks when I get to Cardiff... If I ever manage to get him on the phone.
I finally arrived at Bristol airport, only to discover that the regular buses to Temple Meade weren't running that day. Just my luck, they had an alternative shuttle service... that ran once in the hour. So by the time I got to Temple Meade, took the train to Bristol Parkway, and then finally a cab to Sandra's place, I was ridiculously late. And more than that, enormously tired. Absolutely knackered if you must know. However, that night was Sandra's bachlorette party, or hen do as it's called here, and so I had all of 10 minutes to change into my psychodelic outfit, fix my hair and makeup and be out the door. Which is why, I landed up asleep in the bus on the way to the city center hugging a plastic bag with 3 wine bottles in it.

Dinner was in an italian restaurant, where I picked penne with chicken and blue cheese. Probably a bad idea. No, really, a very bad idea. The pasta was great. My stomach unfortunately wasn't. My food that day had consisted of a bit of salad for breakfast, a granola bar for lunch and 1 coke somewhere in between. Not very healthy. All this in resulting in the fact that dinner was actually too heavy for me and I had a stomach ache for the rest of the evening.

Afterwards it was bar-hopping. Now, for those of you who've never been out in the UK, let me tell you that it's an experience. Slutty and drunk is the dress-code. The most beautiful girls can look like tramps sometimes. At one point this gorgeous girl walked in. She had a lace dress on that covered only the absolutely necessaries, high heels and perfectly curved hair. All in all- she could have been a model. One hour later... She'd been hit by the ugly-tree... Wobbling on her heels, tripping over herself, dress slipping in all directions, the drunk-sweaty look... the guys around her were hitting on her, but were also too drunk to know the difference between their two heads.

It was great to see Sandra though, and meet some of her other friends.

Hopefully the rest of the trip will go better.