I say Cardiff, you say Caerdydd!

21/1/09 (that's how they do around these parts.)

Yesterday's transfer to Cardiff...not all that bad, but full of unexpected kinks. Our ride from London went smoothly, but the bus driver, maybe excited, maybe just hopelessly weird, spent nearly the whole ride expounding upon the six of us his historical knowledge of England and Cardiff. Most of it was pretty interesting, to be honest, but at 7:30 in the morning...I would have preferred sleep. He also nearly brought us to Swansea, due to a tangent he went on about his daughter living there (one of many). Later, he drove away with our backpacks in the passenger area after assuring us that he'd unload eveything. Someone had to hunt him down at a bus stop. By that point, I wasn't all that surprised.

In the afternoon (already fucking raining...) I went on a trek to buy some cookware and bedsheets. I came back with a raincoat, overlong in the arms and no sheets. Oops.

Later, I went to the Student Union bar - The Taf - in an attempt at sparking conversation, being social, etc. but knowing no one, I floundered a bit, over tipping the bartender (these £1 coins...something to get used to. I was also later told by Parker that no one tips bartenders here, so she probably assumed I was hitting on her) before striking up conversation with two engineering dudes, James and Eddie. I will probably never see James or Eddie again. Thanks for being kind to the confused American, mates.

Fatigue & Guinness finally prevailing, I headed back to Synghenydd to get some sleep and was faced once again with my lack of sheets. thinking quickly, I unbuttoned the cover of my duvet (read- comforter) and climbed in.

MacGyver.