Cliche U.K. Wanderlust Blog

October - November 2018
Adventures though the Republic of Ireland, Wales, England, Scotland, and North Ireland Read more
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  • Day 32

    A sad goodbye and a happy hello

    November 16, 2018 in Ireland ⋅ ⛅ 12 °C

    Thankfully for me, and my early bedtime, I was up far earlier than I'd even set my alarm. Because of this, I got to take my time getting ready, as well as catch the earliest bus to the airport and not have to stress about any time constraints. The only thing I have to worry about now is making sure I'm fed before getting on the plane, and if I was really smart I would have gotten something for this morning from Marks & Spencers when I got the treacle tart. Fortunately, at a small airport in Ireland, it takes no time at all to get through security and I had all the time to spare. I was able to get a nice breakfast, and then I still had almost two hours to kill. One of the weirdest things that did happen though was a customs check, in Ireland, before I even got on the plane. I had never experienced this, let alone heard of it, so I was quite surprised when we landed in New York and were all able to just walk off the plane. Having about an hour until my next flight, I thought I should first find my gate. Thank goodness it wasn't far, because my energy was waning, and although I'd been fed on the last flight, I knew the food was a priority. Unfortunately, every restaurant I found had either a queue or (when I asked) needed almost an hour to get through a meal; you'd think they'd be faster in the big apple. Cutting my losses, I headed to the nearest shop with snacks and practically bought them out. As my transaction finished up, the plane started boarding, and although I had my ticket I realized I hadn't been assigned a seat. Going up to the counter once more, I'd already been up about three times to ask questions, the clerk was happy to print me a new boarding pass. Somehow, perhaps because I was nice to him, I was in the first boarding group and in row eight... so luxurious. That seat is probably as close to first class as I'll ever get, without spending an arm and a leg. Although getting everyone on the plane seemed to go quickly, we ended up taxiing for roughly 45 minutes, which gave me plenty of time to jostle my seatmates getting adjusted, as well as to help one with the finicky touch screen TVs in the seats. (#Firstworldproblems) Finally, we were in the air and the last leg of my journey home was underway. Towards the end of the flight, I did actually converse with the person sitting to my left, found out that he's a producer for a new Netflix show called Dogs (shout out to Paul,) and he was actually headed to a premiere. Turns out I don't have to be in a foreign country to meet interesting people. Landing an hour later than scheduled, I was thrilled to finally be back in California, although a little wistful that I was no longer traveling. A few phones call to my mom later, and a hug as well, we were leaving LAX, and I was trashed. Pulling up in front of the house was like a wave a relief washed over me. I practically jumped from the moving vehicle to sprint into our home, nearly missing my freshly detailed car, and gave my dad a hug. I may not have necessarily been homesick, but I don't think I'll ever get too old to miss my parents. Of course, by the time I crawled into bed it was nearly seven in the morning... at least based on the time zones I was accustomed. Trying not to let jetlag gain a victory on me, I rolled over when I woke up and saw the clock read nearly three in the morning, but I did give up when I saw it was six. Luckily my day was pretty full from there on out. A slight lag in energy after a sugary meal, which I really should have thought through more thoroughly, but one day later and I was back on track. It's good to be home.

    P.S. I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who took time out of your day to take this journey with me. I may not know who was reading along, and I do apologize for some of the lengthy breaks between posts, but hopefully, you enjoyed my trip as much as I have. I'm finally settled back into my ordinary life, with perhaps a bit more walking than was usual, but I can't wait for my next adventure. I'd also, mostly to save face, like to say that my grammar is normally much better, but half the time I was posting after an exhausting day and right before I went to sleep. I'm sure you'll forgive me.

    Until the next trip,
    Kelley ♡
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  • Day 31

    Never at a loss for what to do.

    November 15, 2018 in Ireland ⋅ 🌧 12 °C

    So after getting a nice nap in, I can say I'm quite grateful for being able to sleep anywhere, and it was so easy to find my hostel this time around; I'm even in the same room as last time. I thought, although highly unlikely as it is an English treat, I would ask about treacle tart again. Once we got over the hump of explaining what it was, I was on my way to M&S, a high end market, and if I found it would bring it back to share the experience. They actually had it! I couldn't believe it, and just barely restrained myself from hugging the woman who helped me. I rushed back, grabbed some forks and plates, and we dug in. Aside from being pure sugar, it was sticky sweet, melt in your mouth delicious. Only wanting a slice, as well as to save myself from having more than I should, I gave the rest of the tart to the staff of the bar... I think they appreciated it. Because it was only three, and still light out, I had to squeeze in another attraction. Of the ones recommended, two were close enough for a comfortable walk, and one was still open. It made for an easy decision, and I was able to navigate through Cork to Saint Fin Barre's Cathedral, seeing a sign along the way for a newly closed Starbucks, as well as taking a detour through a park. My God (pun intended) was this place stunning. After soaking in this building, over 150 years old, I decided to look through their small souvenir shop. As it was the same person working the till for entry and to buy anything, we struck up a conversation, talking about my trip and being from California he walked around the shop that reminded me of tidying up... but what he did was buy me a stone cross, for safety and protection. I was so touched. We spoke a bit longer, and I even did their labyrinth, which was for meditation, rather than trapping a minotaur. From there, souvenirs in hand (how could I not buy something and support the Cathedral after that?), I headed back. Getting hungry and having it be my last night, I decided to treat myself, because I'm still worth it, and now is no time to be stingy. I headed to Gallagers Pub, for an insane burger with all sorts of things on it, including a treacle onion jam. Totally satiated I headed back to my lodging for a pint, since it was also a pub, I knew there was a reason I stayed here again. Miraculously I was tired half way through my drink, and knowing I had to be up early, just headed upstairs. It is one thing to miss your tour, it is another to miss your flight home. So that's it, my last night. It wasn't crazy and wild, but really neither was much of my trip, so it all worked out.Read more

  • Day 31

    Back to the Republic

    November 15, 2018 in England ⋅ ⛅ 8 °C

    After being lulled to sleep by the dulcet sounds of bands playing in clubs, and people singing and yelling in the streets, it seemed I was being woken by my alarm. Why is it that morning always seems to arrive so quickly? I got ready for the day, made sure everything was packed up, and headed downstairs. Now I'm sure I probably should have done this long before I was a few hours away from my flight, but I asked the guy at the front desk to print off my boarding pass. Sure I had it on my phone, and I even downloaded the app, but I'd been told by no less than five people that Ryanair was notorious for charging on every little thing (much like Spirit.) I had already checked in, paid extra for my "extra" cabin bag (it is my only bag), but I did get priority seating out of the deal, so I felt confident that I had it handled. Once my ticket was printed, that itself was a struggle, I had a taxi called, and the new challenge arrived. My taxi driver didn't take card, and I didn't have cash. Thank goodness he knew how much it would be to get me to the airport, and knew where an ATM was... he may have done this before. He dropped me off at the front, directed me to departures, and I managed to get through with no trouble at all. I did have to ditch my shampoo and conditioner, a small oversight on my part, but they actually had stations set up where you could buy bags for small items, or bin the things you shouldn't have brought which I ended up utilizing. Security, as it is in most places outside the US, was a breeze. The upside to being grossly early was that I was able to get a nice breakfast, and didn't have to worry about becoming a hungry terror on the plane, as well as just being able to take my time and enjoy my coffee. They even had a game area that had a full sized version of a mobile game I used to love. Boarding was easy too, because Brits know how to queue, and my seatmate even let me take a photo past him from the window while we were in the air. So, not even one hour later, and I'm once again in the Republic of Ireland. A bit blustery getting off the plane, another stamp in my passport, and then... waiting. Now I just have to wait for my bus to Cork, and depending on how things go, a little sightseeing. Tomorrow, I'm home, and this month has flown by (no pun intended.) This was an expensive, once in a lifetime, incredible adventure. Even with my missed tours, airbnb's that I couldn't get in to, and plans that numerous times went to shit, I wouldn't change a thing. Adaptability is certainly key when traveling, alone or otherwise.Read more

  • Day 30

    Slow and Steady Wins the Race

    November 14, 2018 in England ⋅ 🌙 11 °C

    This is finally the day where I took my sweet time, so it checks out that it's the very end of my trip. After a leisurely morning, I didn't even get out of bed until half ten (10:30), I asked a local where to go for an inexpensive breakfast, and headed right around the corner. About ten minutes after sitting down I realized that you have to go to the counter to order, and got myself a Miners Benedict, so basically replacing the ham with black pudding. I thought it was fantastic. From there I was finally headed to the Tate, and it had to be today, because tomorrow I was headed off, and far earlier than any sane person would want. Getting there just before one, I was quite surprised to find that it was much smaller than originally perceived. I did thoroughly enjoy the time it took me to go through their artwork, especially the Mondrian (one of my favorites), and an especially good Dali. There was a particularly trippy section that had pieces that would move or shake, one seemed to vibrate as you moved past it, others giving a sense of unease with small ticking motions, and another that gave me the weirdest sense of vertigo. Overall, a lovely experience. From there I walked along the dock, and found almost every inch of chains along the pathway covered in locks; I might have left my own, had I known, but it was all with names of couples. I did pop in to the Liverpool Museum for a while, but found that I was so tired that I just wanted to head back to my, one more, empty room. Upon getting back, I realized that one of my "goals" if you will, was unfulfilled... eating treacle tart. The hunt began by asking the clerk at the front desk, who provided excellent conversation, but was no help in my quest. The next person I asked was the bartender who worked for the hostel, and he even called the cook who worked there to ask, she was no help, but he sent me to a cafe that he thought might carry it but closed in 17 minutes. I made it with four minutes to spare, but they didn't have my tart. Now, I would like to say, that it was barely five, which means that half the places I might check were just closing. Perhaps I shouldn't have left this to my last day in England. It was fine though, because apparently the Tesco (market) carried it, and sure it wouldn't be the same as having it from a cafe or restaurant, but it would still be something I got to try. Along my way I stopped at every restaurant scouring their dessert menu, and inquired in every bakery, with no luck. When I got to the Tesco I thought I could finally relax, I asked someone in the front, who sent me to the back of the store, and when I couldn't find it I asked someone who worked there and he said he'd look it up in their system. No luck! I guess it's only carried at the large Tesco stores, and that was the largest one in the area, so the hunt was on again. I stopped in every market along my path, only getting lost on some streets but later realizing where I was, hunting in every restaurant, but it wasn't meant to be. Dejected I thought I should at least go to the Liverpool public library, a place I'd gone on my tour, to check out their exhibit on punk and soak in the smell of old books. After my brief interlude, I connected to the free wifi and started looking again. Nothing. Every restaurant that came up with my searches let me down, but I did find one eatery with glowing reviews, and at the very least I thought I should get a nice meal out of it. I headed for Pieminister, a local pie (the savory kind) shop, and with the suggestion from the waitress, ended up with the "moo & blue" and some over the top fries. I can confidently say that I'm glad that I don't live locally, because I would spend far too much eating there all the time. Overeating was almost guaranteed with their amazing mix of flavors. Satiated being an understatement, I was all set to walk it off and head straight to bed, but I think everyone is familiar with how my plans tend to work out. Meeting a couple of women outside the hostel, we struck up a conversation, and ended up talking for over an hour. On the bright side, we did both have to wake up early, so we exchanged information, and headed off to our dorms. Thank goodness I didn't have anyone else in my room, so I didn't have to feel badly about the time I was setting my alarm. Tomorrow I'm off to Ireland, and then, back home.Read more

  • Day 29

    Like that would stop me

    November 13, 2018 in England ⋅ ⛅ 10 °C

    After rejecting the 5am wake up my body so nicely decided upon, I ended up rising at a much more respectable nine; besides, there's still an hour until things really open. The unfortunate side of this morning, and I totally plan on oversharing, is that mucus should not be that color (I'll spare you the other details.) So, getting ready took a little longer with my foggy head, but with only a few days left of this trip, some of them traveling, I'm not going to let this take me out of commission. There may be a stop at Boots (kind of a convenience store) for lozenges and tissues, there will certainly be tea and a bacon bap, but I will go on my free tour and hopefully infect no one.

    Well as far as the tour went, I had an amazing time. Not only did I learn about how Liverpool got its start, but also about the Liver bird, which is a made up bird and emblem for the city. Being a small group our guide was able to take us to all sorts of places, singing and dancing all the way, making for a very enjoyable time. By the end of our two and a half hours, not only had I learned a whole bunch about the city I was in, but I had made some new friends too. Although I had planned to go to the Tate museum, I thought it might be more fun to hang out with the group, and we all headed to the Liverpool Cathedral. This place is massive, with ornate statues, and intricate stained glass windows. Although no one else was interested in paying to go to the top of the Cathedral to see the views, they were kind enough to wait for me, as well as live vicariously through my photos. It was an amazing view, on a surprisingly clear day, and it wasn't even as windy as the top of the Wallace monument. Taking more photos than necessary, I headed back down, especially because I knew we were going to get food. As I learned, the local dish is called scouse, meat with vegetables and potatoes (what a surprise), that closely resembles stew. So we headed off to Bold St. to experience the area like a local and eat the food that is so loved. Once we found a restaurant that had what we were looking for we all popped in, learned that it was served with pickled cabbage and beets, and couldn't wait to dig in. By the time the food got to the table, I can safely bet, we were all ravenous, and dug in. It was a bit plain in flavor, but the pickled vegetables really brought a brightness and rounded out the flavor. All the guys blew through their food, and I managed to eat half of it, giving the rest to one of them who was still hungry. Once I was stuffed, and they had taken an edge off their hunger, we decided to split up back to our hostels, and meet up for drinks and music later. Heading back to my room, that surprisingly had other people in it, I dropped off anything I didn't need and went to spend more time with my impromptu group of friends. Originally the plan was to listen to music and have a few drinks, but after realizing that we could barely hear each other while yelling, we moved to the quiet bar attached to my hostel and played a few games of pool... we all blamed the curved cue for our poor performance. I also ended up introducing them all to borek, for our late night snack, and we stayed up far too late chatting and laughing. Not at all how I'd planned my day, and at this point I wonder why I try, but once again better than I could have hoped.
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  • Day 28

    My body knows!

    November 12, 2018 in England ⋅ 🌧 8 °C

    Turns out when you've slept all day, your body will wake up earlier than normal, and it'll also tell you why it was getting so much rest. Waking up at six in the morning was not quite the plan, but neither was the scratchy throat and stuffy nose. It's as if my immune system doesn't like being alone in a room, but I wasn't going to let it stop me. Figuring I had more than enough time, I read for a while, took a nice long shower (because now one was waiting for it), and made my way downstairs for some breakfast. Essentially I was going for something hot, to sooth my throat, and protein to get me through the day, and settled for tea and a bacon bap (or round roll.) The upside of course, to waking up at an ungodly hour, is that I had plenty of time to choose what I wanted to do, and decided on a Beatles bus tour. Walking over to the Royal Albert Dock, it struck me that this was the first day in weeks that I actually had a need for my sunglasses, too bad they were back in the room. Not being a music buff by any means, I thoroughly enjoyed the tour. The guide and driver were very funny, and I learned a ton of interesting facts about each band member, where they grew up, how they got their start, what brought them together and then to fame... so naturally I've forgotten most of it. The trip ended with us headed for the Cavern Club, where we got a free souvenir (that you can only get through the tour) of a postcard that was reproduced from one years ago. With it barely being past noon, and not knowing where my day would lead me, I actually headed back to do some laundry, because I was literally on my last outfit. The boring part of travel being finished, but at least getting a game of pool in while waiting, I realized I had enough time to head back to the docks and check out The Beatles Story, a museum, all about them. Once I'd paid, and picked up the free audio guide, I slowly made my way though the building learning even more about these music idols. Although most likely overpriced, it was still a fun thing to experience, as well as being the only place where this museum exists, so in the long run it was worth it. Walking back, and being well aware of the time, I went to drop off any unnecessary items in my room, and then went straight to the Lebanese restaurant from the night before; I would not miss it tonight. Ordering the recommended lamb shawarma burger, a fantastic invention, was such a good choice. The burger was juicy without dripping all over your hands, and meaty but lacking the sense that you'd keel over from protein overload, the salad that came with was crisp and tangy for a perfect accompaniment, and being in England you can bet there were "chips." The finale of the meal though, and a recommendation from the receptionist who told me about this place yesterday, was the Lebanese coconut cheesecake. Not quite the same as an American cheesecake, but delicious all the same, and managed to be creamy but feel too heavy. Leaving the restaurant I did consider going back to The Cavern, since there is free admission with the bus tour, but still having a scratch in my throat I opted for tea, and at the very least an earlier bedtime. It didn't feel like a jam packed day, much easier than some, but my body might be telling me to slow down... I might wait until I'm home.Read more

  • Day 27

    That's one way to do it.

    November 11, 2018 in England ⋅ 🌙 9 °C

    After staying up way too late, mostly to find food, and ending up in a not-so-secret secret club (for like two minutes) I got what might be referred to as sleep. One night in a place before moving to the next can be slightly off putting, and I still had to figure out where I was staying for the rest of my time in Liverpool. Since my trip is coming to a close, I decided to treat myself to an airbnb, and compared to the prices I found elsewhere, it was a steal. Deciding I would go to a museum until I could check in to my new digs, I found a place to store my luggage and made my way over. The first two levels were definitely geared toward children, but it was still fun (I saw an axolotl!), and the third floor was an expansive exhibit on Egypt. My stomach did get the better of me, as it does, and I had to leave and find nourishment before seeing everything; free entry made it a little easier to leave. Once I'd sufficiently stuffed my face, I made my way back to get my things so I could go check in to my gloriously private room. I found my way over, not terribly far from all the attractions, but farther than I wanted to walk with my bag that seems to keep getting heavier. A message through the app had given me the number of the person I was getting the room from, and a couple of texts and phone calls later... I still hadn't gotten in. Tired and frustrated I shuffled back to the hostel where I had stored my bags, if only I had realized the prices sooner. I asked for the cheapest room available, and ended up in a six bed dorm... by myself; blessedly alone. I ended up napping for a few hours, and when I finally emerged from the room I realized that not only was everything closed, but I was somehow still tired. Fortunately reception is twenty four hours, and I asked where I could get dinner. The lovely woman at the desk told me about a Lebanese restaurant nearby, made sure (with Google magic) that it was open, and even suggested a dessert. Thank goodness it was a short walk away, the only downside to going there was that they had apparently changed there hours, and it was actually closed. Sighing in defeat, I turned around and headed back to where I'd come from, figuring I could just get some more sleep. As I ambled through the, now empty, shopping center I saw a group of men go into a building, and realized it was a restaurant, an open restaurant. Two seconds in to looking over their menu and I knew exactly what I wanted: borek. Munching happily on my Turkish pastry, filled with juicy minced meat, I practically skipped back to my bed. Once satiated, and settled for the night, I snuggled in to my bunk once more, and couldn't wait for the sound of the city to lull me to sleep.Read more

  • Day 26

    Next time, I'm getting a train

    November 10, 2018 in England ⋅ ⛅ 8 °C

    Although I had what could be the loudest snorer I've ever heard in my room, I was able to get plenty of rest. Having most of my things already packed made getting ready in the morning a breeze, so all I had to focus on was getting some food, and I would need it for my day of travel. I may not have much to do other than get to the bus station, but I had about eight hours of being in a vehicle to look forward to. After checking out, and double checking where the station was with the clerk, I was leaving Edinburgh. I can say with certainty, it would have been easy to spend all of my time traveling, in that city. There was a ton to see, and a plenty, I'm sure, I didn't even know to check out. With help, I did finally find my bus, and I hopped right on. For some reason, I hadn't quite wrapped my head around what exactly this trip would entail, and even with falling asleep for a couple hours I hit hour four absolutely ravenous. Then the guy across the aisle pulled out a sandwich. Thank goodness, the next place we stopped wasn't just for two minutes to let people on, but the downside was that there was no place nearby to grab something hot. I was able to grab some chips, and a few other snacks, from a nearby vending machine to hold me over until we got to Leeds, where I had 40 minutes between transferring buses. Scarfing down my delicious sweet chili & sour cream chips, and probably scaring the person sitting next to me, I felt much better. Only one hour to go until I could get my hands on real food. Finally arriving in Leeds, I was found that right next door was city market, and blessedly, warm food; I had to stop myself from ordering everything. Making sure I was totally satisfied, I got back to my next bus with plenty of time to spare. Next stop, Liverpool. I can't wait to crash, but I'm so ready for tomorrow, and you know I'll have to do a Beatles tour.Read more

  • Day 25

    Turning It Around

    November 9, 2018 in England ⋅ 🌧 10 °C

    After salvaging yesterday by spending a few hours at the National Museum of Scotland, and my god it was not enough time, I decided to treat myself. One order later and I was digging in to what may be the unofficial meal of Scotland: haggis, neeps & tatties, or as they're also known, turnips and potatoes, smothered in whiskey sauce. I don't even like turnips, but the whole thing was amazing, and it was possibly the best haggis I'd had my whole time there. For dessert, because it was a rough day, I got a fried Mars bar. This extremely popular dessert, is exactly what you'd expect, but another thing I couldn't miss out on while visiting Scotland. After finishing my meal, and walking across the street to my hostel, one of my new friends convinced me to go on the pub crawl that night. Since knowing it was a great way to meet people, and because I did have such a fun time the time before, I agreed. It was fun, for the first few pubs, and then something crazy happened... our guide hit his head on something random and started bleeding everywhere. Thank goodness he was alright, but things did peter out after all the questions and gossip. I decided to retire early, and try and get a better start to the next day.

    Waking up bright an early, and making sure to pack up my stuff, I got ready for the day and checked out of my room. Although I still had another night in Edinburgh before I headed for Liverpool, I was changing hostels because apparently there's a limit to how long you can stay in certain places. Storing my luggage for the day, I headed to the Scott Monument, today was the day I finally climbed it... if it was open. When I got there they were, much to my relief, already working on opening up. They let me right in, and I started my way up the 287 steps to the top, only stopping to take an occasional photo. It was definitely a fantastic view, and quite an interesting perspective being on top of the city, while still inside it at the same time. From there I decided to wander, and came across a very funny busker, who before I knew it had occupied almost 45 minutes of my time. Laughing practically the whole time, and highly impressed by his escape from a straight jacket and chains (especially after he snuck off and scared someone walking past), I made sure to give him a few pounds and thank him for his great performance. Deciding it was late enough, I grabbed my belongings and walked to my next hostel for the night. It was definitely comfortable and relaxed, and I was so grateful this place was as cozy as the last. There were all sorts of cute quirks around like art on the walls, statues (one in particular startled me every time), and every room had, along with the number, a name to it; mine was the Latin room. Once I was settled in, I messaged my friend to let them know I was ready as soon as they were. About an hour later we were meeting up and making our way to the summit of Authors Seat, which is well known for having a marvelous view over all of Edinburgh, and all the way to the coast. Although it was only five, it was already dark, so it wasn't possible to see as far as normal it was still a stunning view of the lit up city along the way. Unfortunately, my legs would not cooperate, and once my calves had sized up (I guess I should have been stretching at night) that was it. I didn't make it to the top, much to my chagrin, but it just gives me something to conquer on a future trip, and although not at the top I still got a superb view. Walking back in the direction of my lodging, I realized I had to eat, and we decided on Nando's; or more accurately, it was decided for me when my friend realized I'd never been. I was actually quite impressed, and I'd be more than okay with the chain making it's way to the states. Once full, we made our way to my new hostel because by good fortune, they were promoting a comedy show; we were both excited by the prospect. It ended up being an absolutely hilarious show, and of course being in the front, there we were fresh bait for the comedians on stage. Neither of us had it as bad as a guy at the table next to us, but he took the ribbing like a champ; the poor guy had no idea that sitting in the front meant you were prime picking for those on stage. After a great show, my friend and I parted ways, and I headed back to sleep, and hopefully get some rest before my journey the next day.
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  • Day 24

    A True Rework

    November 8, 2018 in Scotland ⋅ ⛅ 10 °C

    After having trouble falling asleep last night, but making sure to set my alarm, I woke up promptly at nine... only an hour and a half after when I was supposed to leave. I missed my tour, the one without refunds. After freaking out, being pissed, wondering if there was a way to meet up with the tour, I had to face the truth; there was no fixing this. I don't even have the time to do it another day. After wallowing for a while I decided that, in pure British fashion, I needed a cup of tea. I went downstairs, to commiserate with another bunkmate, and figure out what I'd do with my disappointingly open day. One girl did show me pictures of it, and it is just a lake, but I still wanted the experience. While sitting there, another girl from the pub crawl a few nights before showed up and said she was going on the free tour with the hostel. Lacking any plans, I figured, why not. There was a tiny group, five of us, including the guide. It made for a great walk around, and because it was so small he was able to customize what we saw. I even learned some things I hadn't on any other of my excursions. It was the most expensive free tour I'd ever been on, but it lifted my spirits; the ice cream I bought helped too. Not resembling in the slightest what I had planned, but there's probably a reason I didn't get to go. Maybe I just needed more rest. Whatever the cause, I got to go out, learn even more about the city, and maybe I'll go to a museum. Still a drag, but not a total loss.Read more