Birmingham is large. And a bit scary. I hadn’t realised how unused I had become of large cities until I wandered around here for a bit. And yeah my hotel is not exactly in the best of neighbourhoods (I was looking for cheap, bog it!), but I’ve vet to see shady guys is shadow corners or anything like that. It might be the tall buildings, the wide roads and the typical British inability to signpost properly. However, from what little I’ve seen, the city looks interesting and I am genially looking forward to exploring it tomorrow.
My day was overall pretty good. It wasn’t cold, I discovered that Bangor has a pretty cool open air market on Fridays, and best of the best? I did not have to change any trains all the way to Birmingham! Yippee! We crossed through a pretty big chunk of Wales, and honestly at times it felt like the train was passing through a commercial made by the Ministry of Tourism. It had it all: the green hills dotted with sheep, stone bridges, (clean) beaches, the occasional castle. Unfortunately I was too sleepy to take any decent pictures, but then again, that’s what Google’s for!
When I arrived at Birmingham I realised that my mobile internet was on vacation. For some reason (I blame hunger and tiredness) this sounded more like adventure potential than an inconvenience. So I found the nearest map, copied down directions –quite studiously is I say so myself- and started walking. Unfortunately I forgot I was in England. And no offense to the lovely British folk reading this but putting a discreet, out of the way sign with the street’s name at the beginning of it is not helpful. Not really. I’d say it’s because everyone here seems to have a GPS but once upon a short time ago that was not the case. Anyway I got a bit lost, and lucky me, it was around the time that schools were letting out, so I chanced upon a mum and her two kids, who not only knew where my hotel is, she also offered to take me there since it was on her way. Wow, that’s pretty awesome chances, you gotta admit!
The hotel is structured more like a motel, nothing fascinating but! THE BED IS HUGE! As in movie-like, illogically-tall, fluffy-as-a-cloud huge. I truly don’t know how I’ll manage to get up in the morning…
As I re-read what I’ve written so fat, I get the impression it is slightly all over the place. Can’t be helped I suppose. Besides, when James Joyce wrote whatever passed through his head, they called it literature. Who knows, maybe in 80 years some poor student will be slaving over my writing. If that is the case, I only have one thing to say: good luck buddy!