Rule #2: If You Don't Get Lost, You Haven't Been On Holiday

Heather is back in Wolverhampton, and it seems she is much the wiser after an exhausting escapade on her way back from Cardiff. Hills were climbed, bags were dropped, feet were trampled on (ouch!), but nothing could stop our travelling heroine in her quest to conquer England...

Okay, enough of the third person and back to the actual post. (Me thinks I am running out of creative ways to begin writing!) As you may have guessed, I am incredibly tired after a long day of hot and sweaty travelling, and though much happened along the way, I'll break it down into a few points.

First of all, I got lost in downtown Wolverhampton on my way to Christine and David's house despite the many times I've gone there with my dad! I got off the final train from Birmingham after changing once at Gloucester and stumbled out of the train station only to find myself muddled as to which way to go. Do you know that feeling when you inherently "know" bits and pieces of an area, like say a building or a town square, but just can't seem to string them together into one coherent whole? That is how I feel about most places, but especially Wolverhampton. (Partly due to my tendency to follow my dad around like a blind sheep.) So I wandered around for ages in the 37 degree heat with my pully bag in tow looking for the bus-stop my dad had mentioned, but without avail. Finally, I just decided to go back to the station and find a bus there, even if it took me in a bit of a roundabout direction. However, once on the bus, I messed up AGAIN when I got off at completely the wrong stop, simply because it looked like an area close to Christine and David's house, when I was actually on the other side of town (duh). Thus I had a long walk in the direction the bus was headed and thanks to a nice old man whom I asked for help along the way, I arrived safely at their house in the end, but it took a great deal of effort on the part of my tired little legs and frazzled brain.

And the fun doesn't stop there! On my second day in Cardiff, I was set free by Pam and Darren to familiarize myself with the city while they were at work. I had a lovely time at Cardiff Castle where I received a 50 minute tour of the grounds, and surprisingly I didn't lose my way once! However, my luck wasn't to last, for when I got back to the house, stuck the key in the lock and turned, I found the door stuck fast like a stubborn old mule. The neighbours must have thought I was breaking in, watching me kick at the door and violently shake the handle until it was about to drop off. I thought to myself, "Someone is going to call the cops in a second," turned on my heal and went to the pub for a pint of Brain's beer and a breather. It was a good two hours before I came back to once again challenge the door which loomed in front of me as obstinate as ever. This time, a man was across the road from the house fixing his car, so trying to avoid his glance, I went back to battling the enemy. It didn't take long for him to come over and check out the suspicious looking character ripping his neighbour's door to bits. "You alright?" he asked and I explained the situation to him, pretty sure he would believe me if I really emphasized the Canadian accent and put on my best innocent face. Thankfully, his suspicion dropped and I watched on with bulging eyes as he snatched the key from my hand, twisted the lock once and eased open the door. I could have spat I was so embarrassed but I suppose most doors in the area are similar and need the touch of a local to be opened.

Yet despite it all, here I now sit in my room for the next three days, safe and sound. Personally, I think getting lost and doing stupid things is more fun that knowing where you're going and having a concrete plan. Today was exactly how Trin and I "did" Japan - a vague plan but not an inkling as to what the hell we were doing. I think I'll get lost more often.

PS: I am feeling guilty that I did not blog about Cardiff Castle all that much since it was a gorgeous place. I would have but there really isn't much to cover except that it was rebuilt in the 1800's by the wealthiest man in Britain at the time who started up a successful coal mining company. Thanks to the wealth that he poured into the project, the castle's exterior looks almost as it did when it was first built in the 1000's, while the interior has been completed refurbished to the Far Eastern tastes of the wealthy business man. The only section of the castle that remains unaltered is the keep where the Duke of Normandy (the rightful heir to the throne) was held prisoner, and also where the royal family would hide in times of danger. Interesting stuff, eh? Oh, and his great grandson was apparently a super hunk, with thousands of gorgeous woman at his heals, yet was forced to marry the so called ugliest woman in Wales for money. I had a good chuckle at that. :P