Sleepless in Wales

January and February came awash with attempts to act like a responsible adult — like getting up when I don’t feel like it, passing up online movie nights for schoolwork, and pep talking my heart throughout the day to choose nonchalance over heartache. There were good and bad days, but every waking morning felt like a bongo drum player was living inside me. I felt him going off beat sometimes, but with the same intense thumping that would cause me to be a little bit disappointed at myself for going through all this again just because I feel too much.

Running sure calmed my nerves, and sleeping over at Ate Ina’s and bingeing on Pinoy food, or washing my clothes. But if there was anything that picked me up so well from the rut I was in, it was that trip to Wales. It was far from perfect in the normative sense of the word… and that was exactly what I needed.

It was Tuesday when Johan, this modern-day version of a hippie as I’d like to believe he is, got this brilliant idea of inviting me to tag along in Wales. I checked my schedule and had a few days to spare before I turn in my papers for last term. And when was the last time I did something just because? Can’t even remember. That was a bad sign and I felt I had to do something about it STAT. So I packed my bags and went, banking on Johan’s sense of direction (or lack thereof) and what little’s left of my youthful optimism.

Stonehenge was our first stop. We left at 12 in the afternoon and spent two hours on the bus with a view of England’s countryside. There were misadventures sprinkled throughout the duration of the trip, and the bad weather (or inappropriateness of my clothes, more like) was just one of many. Anyhow, it didn’t really change anything about how magnificent the Stonehenge was. (I spy with my little eye, a rainbow!!!)

And oh, it was my first time to see lambs!!! I didn’t quite expect to find them anywhere near a historical site, nor was I sure if raising a herd near the Stonehenge bore some historical significance. That’s a silly correlation but the world is full of strange things.

We left the place with some hefty trivia from the walkie-talkie guided tour and headed back to London to catch our bus to Wales. People kept asking me why we didn’t go straight to Wales from there but as I’ve just signed up for this trip without plans, I literally had no frickin idea.

A footlong sub and some Dr. Pepper later, we then boarded a MegaBus (the cheapskate’s pocketful of sunshine) at 11 in the evening to Cardiff. We googled “The Valleys” to kill time at Victoria Coach Station and got quite disappointing results. We didn’t know the names were just the first in a string of mishaps in Cardiff.

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Seriously. I know I’ve once been enamored by the Elvish language of Middle-earth which most would claim to be a tad bit cuckoo. But Mynyddcerrig and Garnffrwd are just too absurd. While waiting to board the bus, we found the names cute. But impending doom was looming in the horizon. The names bore the signs!

After the four and a half-hour bus ride, we reached Cardiff expecting a ghost town at half past three in the morning. But we were dead wrong. Of course, a weekend rugby match between Wales and France was enough to keep the Welsh in a celebratory mood, piss drunk.  We were homeless and tired but we sure were entertained. On a train station that cold, Saturday morning, we lay on the floor with a bunch of happy Welsh people (or Frenchmen who drank their misery away. Honestly, no one could tell the difference) — tired, cold, unsure about the immediate future, and just plain clueless how in the world to get to Mynyddcerrig and Garnffrwd.

A screenshot of Johan’s video to immortalize my homeless state. I can be missing a roof on my head but never without food. 😉

This is how the Welsh roll.

We figured that our need for sleep outweighed our vow to skimp. So we went around the city at 6 in the morning searching for the ever elusive hotel room, with a tinge of sadness about leaving the raucous drunk people from the station. If there is any life lesson I could bring with me from this trip, it would be that rugby and same-day hotel reservations don’t go well together. There were attempts to plead to camp on the hotels’  lounges, which were expectedly and respectfully turned down. They may be right in thinking how two homeless adults can be so smart to not book ahead. I won’t own up to that, neither will Johan. We were too hardcore to admit we were so stupid. 😀 Anyway to make the long story short — (or the embarrassing story appear anything other than that) — after n cups of coffee, a trip to the Visitor Information Centre and unwavering persistence, Johan found a room at Premier Inn for 71 pounds. That, my friends, was a miracle.

And so, we ended up trapped in Cardiff. This was our lofty dream… an image of adventure and the great outdoors…

from: http://www.thevalleys.co.uk/1892

… then reality bites. HARD.

The stairs of our hotel leading to…. nowhere.

…And the hotel room. At least it was warm and cozy. (Here’s to making lemonades out of lemons).

We were supposed to explore The Valleys that day but nobody and nothing could drag me out of that bed. I know we were there to go around but mortals need sleep, too. That afternoon, after dozing off for a couple of hours, we managed to go grab some food from the convenience store and take a trip to the outdoor shop across the street. These are not exactly what tourists would do in Cardiff but we just got to make do with what we had. 😀 Luckily, there was an amazing activity centre right beside our hotel. Again, playing tennis and badminton is something you cannot not do in some other city. But again I feel that was much better than enduring long bus rides to burn a hole on the bed.

I had to leave early the next day while Johan got himself a couple of extra days to allow Wales to change his mind. He actually managed to go to The Valleys and get some really cool pictures. He was also kind enough to show them to me and shove in my face just how gravely I’ve missed out on the nice stuff. That was a sweet, sweet gesture.

I won’t be leaving any useful tips on how to explore Wales, as I’ve terribly failed on my mission to do touristy stuff and to come home raving about how exotic the place should be. If anything, this might just be a guide on what NOT to do while traveling. Or maybe not. If you wanna be hardcore, be homeless in Wales!!!