Update your travel apps

I just bought a new phone so I had to redownload all my airline apps. Take a moment before you head to the airport and update your apps with your log in info. Now the flight and rewards info is in your hands literally. Its also good idea to save this info along with airline phone numbers in your email or cloud storage. These air apps even drop notifications on arrivals and departures.

Most airports have mobile check in you should also do using your phone. As soon as you get to the airport you should have your boarding pass on your phone or know you need to stop to get a printed ticket. Speed is the name of the game, passing security is the unknown here. I havent found a good app that shows actual wait times for security checks. If we could get that info most of the stress should go away. I know I am relieved if I think I may be late to get a notification that my flight is delayed anyway.

Travel well travel like a pro!

 

Dream trip Day 130 Flight to Reykjavik, Boston, Bukowski Bar

Don’t you hate it when you wake up a few minutes before your alarm is due to ring? What do you do with those free moments? Go back to sleep? Get up?

I got up. I had all ready packed, all set there, just strapped my backpack and side bag over my shoulder.

Typically I used Uber overseas, it was a bit more reliable vs Lyft but I did ride with both at some point on my trip.

A driver selected me so I waited. I waited more, his car didn’t move. Over 4 minutes they sat in the same place

WTH man. So a quick search revealed my journey was less than a mile, no one wanted to do a short run like that.

I still felt I had time so I canceled this ride and requested another. And another driver sat in his spot for a couple of minutes before I had to cancel again.

Finally after calling 3x, a car shows up, a friendly chap is behind the wheel.

I made it through security with plenty of time to make the gate before boarding. Of course I carried everything, the checked luggage lines were always very long.

Be sure to always carry a pen in your bag. Borrow one from your airline, hotel, dr office, toss it into your bag and forget about it.

You’ll always need a pen for filling out the documents to get into the country.

Our first leg was only to Iceland, so perhaps just over an hour or maybe 2. A breeze.

Then we landed in Reykjavik where we deplaned 60’s style out onto the tarmac, into the terminal, directly onto another plane. We waited for 10 minutes or something.

We were informed a few times that the Aurora Borealis viewing was perfect, just stop by a desk in the terminal and they would change your reservation.

Really the changing of planes is a waste of time but hey cheap tickets. I knew I was coming back, I just had to do it right, get a car, drive all around the coast was my plan. Over a week.

Another take off and landing, perhaps 3 hours, not too bad. Enough for a bit of shut-eye, just meditated with my eyes closed. Tried to get into the music.

I turned my slip of paper to the TSA guy who had me put both bags through another X-ray machine.

Soon I had to do the awkward take a photo of yourself, swipe your passport and hope they let you through.

The certified traveler option seems great, hardly a line. Yet it is the finger printing that really bothers me. Like I’m a criminal, they need my fingerprints.

I don’t have anything to hide true, so why not take my side as a US citizen vs presuming I may or will commit a crime where fingerprints are necessary?

I was fearful for an inquisition due to how long I’d been gone but no, a single question then the border guard told me,

‘Get in here, we’ve been waiting on yas.’ I was home, back in the US of A!!

Boston man, let me tell you about a city. I dig Boston, a whole lot. It is great. Bill Burr says Boston is like San Francisco except racist and homophobic.

I was so excited to find a hostel near the prestigious Berklee College of Music, one of the top music schools in the US if not the world.

At least I could check in thanks to the wasted time on that layover. I located a free bus into town where I had to transfer to another streetcar line.

We had nearly crested over the pass to merge onto the highway when police sirens blared every car to a grinding halt. For over half an hour.

All that for Hillery Clinton’s entourage of blacked out SUVs. Heard it over the bus driver’s radio, ‘Remain at attention for Sec Clinton.’

Man if that don’t tell you what is wrong with our political system I don’t know what else you need to know.

How can you lead a group of people when you don’t know what traffic is? Where everything takes 15 minutes to get to because you have an escort, all the lights turn green? Ruling class now officially.

I just laughed, whatever. I knew who I was voting for. Look Democrat Republican Green Party etc, they are all out for someone’s $$ not your support. Only your vote then they get to collect $$.

To my delight once I arrived at my stop, I was in the midst of free piano month. For the entire month of September the city had placed several pianos for people to play, free.

One of these pianos was in front of a coffee shop next to my hostel. Score!

School had just left out so I procured a cup and pulled up a seat while a couple of kids took turns playing amazing piano pieces.

The cool sea breeze was blowing. Cars blared their horns, people yelled. A lot.

I had spied a noodle house near the corner so that was my dinner of choice.  A steaming bowl of noodles in broth will bring most anyone back to life.

I checked in and headed to a place I had tried to go the last time I was in Boston, about 3 years ago my family went to a Sox game.

Bukowski Bar was near my hostel just a few blocks walk. I encourage you to read anything by Charles Bukowski you can get your eyes on. One of my fav authors.

Fortunately there was a 7-11 on the way, I get to use ATMs for free at stores thanks to my little credit union.

It turned out the bar I went to is cash only. Good beer selection, the ballgame on, good times. Another round bartender.

A nice night to walk home in the crisp Boston air.

Beer  Sam Adams Boston Lager

Song  Paul Simon   Homeward Bound

 

 

Dream trip Day 129 Farewell Oxford, 12th Century Turf Tavern, Gatwick

I woke, showered and met my Canadian friend on the patio, drinking coffee.

We discussed the night as well as our brunch plans at Turf Tavern, build in 12th century, or earlier, they just don’t have records going back further.

Lots of fires in ye olde Britain so many records have been lost.

You really have to follow a map to find the tavern, it isn’t easy. Down a small passage that at least has a plaque.

There were 2 sets of taps inside where you ordered beer or food. You pointed to where you would sit, in or out.

We picked outside, it wasn’t raining, yet. I chose a burger, can’t go wrong with a pub burger yup.

The place to be here is out back, big tables, covered for when it rains and it does rain a lot in this part of the country.

Why, it even rained as we enjoyed our meal but we were safe and dry.

Another pint to wait out the rain then. I soon became enamoured with a chap across from me who was loudly talking over the phone.

He was soon joined by, ‘ah here he is, the whisperer! My boy, yes, you see..’ he was proper chap, just well put together. Long wallet, coin purse, watch on a chain, gloves, hat resting on the table. Everything he carried had some sort of special carrier or satchel.

He did indeed refer to his associate as “the whisperer” several times while they sipped beers. It was like off a BBC show or something.

I soon bade my friend goodbye, he was off to the north, I had a bus to the south.

Gatwick, home to an airport and a small village. There are 2 buses a day Oxford to both Heathrow and Gatwick.

One is very early, leaves before 8 I believe. My flight was mid afternoon so I didn’t want to risk anything. Travel over an hour pre-flight is typically not a good idea.

So 1 night in Gatwick, mere miles from the airport.

England has a great bus system, double-decker style so upstairs I went. Headphones on and we were off!

I love the rolling hills and tiny villages, cottages we encountered along the way. Lovely country. Need to go back to the north.

A long walk once I arrived to Gatwick and I was to my room. The airport options seem to the be the same no matter where you go. A bed, shower, toilet, tv all one needs.

I settled in, showered up so I could leave the next morning without shower time.

It turned into a rather long walk, stroll but I found a local pub. Caught my last footy match in country with a pint.

Soon some favorites appeared, scotch egg, chips, a fine final UK meal!

I sat with my new reality, my trip was nearing its end.

Tomorrow a flight to one of my favorite cities, Boston, via Iceland of course. It was only a 4-ish hour flight, not bad at all.

A long weary walk in a rainy mist was tough. I was heading home, the US, but where precisely was TBD…

 

Beer  McEwan’s Champion

Song  Led Zeppelin    Ramble On

 

It

Dream trip Day 128 Walking tour fail, Canadian friend, back to Eagle and Child

Always confusion and chaos 1st night in hostel. If you needed to shower, you could find every restroom in the place but not 1 with a shower, bath.

Finally found it and washed the last bit of Cardiff off me.

This place was a bit high-class what with their pod coffee maker. I appreciated it but I must say those pods are horrible for the planet. I think they finally developed a degradable pod but for years they were plastic pods.

I had a cup while scanning the pamphlet list, hunting for walking tours of the city.

When I found 1 I noted where to go and found it on my map. A left right left or something and I was there!

But where is there? It clearly stated an address but it wasn’t there, the numbers jumped up over the address I was looking for.

No guided tour today, going to have to self walk tour. Wait someone is waving?

Ah ok its a Canadian guy I met the night before in the hostel. He was in a long tour of the England, Britain. I believe he had been on the Isle of Wright for a while.

We joined up and decided to walk the city!

 

Just quaint! This was such a nice, quant place. I felt at ease here.

Aimlessly walking a bit, the subject of beers and food are brought up.

My Canadian friend had been to Nando’s before and wanted to try something new.

Asian noodles it is, that’s not something you see everyday. Twas good, I quite enjoy a good bowl of noodles.

I don’t think there was ever an awkward pause in our conversation, we got along pretty well.

He was a college student doing an extended trip because he had time. I advised him that spending at least 1 month on a trip is one of the best things you could do.

I learned so much about life and myself, having to figure out basic logistics. Where was I going, how was I getting there, where am I staying once I arrive?

I also felt that having to make decisions daily helps you get used to them so you don’t fret.

Do you know who the Inklings are, I asked. He didn’t at first until I said JRRR Tolkien + CS Lewis writing group.

He loved Lord of the Rings, had it read to him when he was a kid. Follow me, let me show you something very cool.

I took him to the Eagle and Child, we saw the Lewis quote and plaque with info about the writing club who drank and talked there.

He was legitimately freaking out, so excited. He was taking all sorts of pictures. I ordered 2 pints of pale and we sat down.

These moments are what I enjoy the most. We were both travelers but we had different perspectives, been to different places.

It felt good to help him find a place to share with his family and friends. They had all read the books so now they could see where the books had been discussed, maybe even read for the 1st time.

We closed out the pub yet we wanted to linger and discuss the books longer.

On the way back to the hostel we found an open sports pub so in we went. Instead of football on they had rugby cricket and soccer highlights.

We had a couple more pints before we figured out what to do in the morning.

He had heard of the oldest pub in England was near, or certainly top 3 oldest.

My friend being the true Canadian he was wanted another beer so into the grocery store we go where we get a couple of bottles.

We run into a couple chatting with one of the hostel workers. He is from Australia and is ‘fucking loaded, mate. My house has a pool, ac, sunroof.’

He had some sort of online business he started when he was younger and it was now automated, he didn’t have to work but a couple of hours a day, if that.

He too was chasing the sun, he worked here during the summer, saw the area and friends, then back to Australia. He only saw the summer and maybe a bit of fall wherever he lived.

We were discussing power, who was in charge, the dominate party as most countries began under a different. I want to say this was around the time Russia invaded or took back Crimea.

He showed us 1 of many videos that show a part of the world and who was in control of a region year by year, century by century. Here’s one of Europe. Fascinating.

Beer  Old Speckled Hen

Song  Supergrass   Sun Hits the Sky

Dream trip Day 127 Farewell Cardiff, train to Oxford, the Eagle and Child pub

At this point, months into my trip I was bewildered most of the time. It was just unreal everything I was seeing and experiencing. I felt overwhelmed and still not sure what to do or where to go.

The only thing I knew was winter is coming and I did not pack for that. I had a hoodie that worked well so far but it was soon to become real cold. Freezing.

Had I been really adventurous I would have flown to Morocco. I investigated going when I had a week off in Barcelona.

I was chasing the sun at this point, trying to stay warm if I could.

The weather wasn’t too much better where I was heading next, Oxford.

The college was certainly a draw, the writers who taught and lived there: CS Lewis, JRRRR Tolkien, radiohead… Yeah I pretty much went to see what the area that radiohead lived looked like.

I’d been listening to radiohead’s A Moon Shaped Pool literally the entire summer. It is a great record but can be a bit depressing. It’s a good listen on an overcast or rainy day. As is Kid A, that is my go to rainy day record.

I didn’t have time for coffee and a meal before I left so I had some of the instant coffee with sugar at the hostel before I left.

At some point the night before I decided I needed to have fish n chips here, to complete my UK fish and chips experience. I’d had the meal in England, Scotland, Ireland (N and S) and now Wales.

The fry guy just smiled when I ordered and said it would be a few, had to fry it fresh to make it best!

A stupendous amount of chips with a slab of fish soon arrived. Enough for 2 easily.

I had time but still felt rushed. I mean, the train station was only across the street so I am not sure why I was concerned.

I left my still near full box near one of the many stoops with homeless.

The railway was small and everything was in English so finding my track was a breeze, especially compared to Budapest.

I did however miss my connection in Redding. I took my time putting on my hoodie then everyone was getting on so I couldn’t push past them.

I got to the door just as it closed and locked. Trapped!

What made this rather interesting was the previous hour or so were non stop. I hoped for the next stop to be soon.

It was so I jumped on a train heading in the direction of Oxford. Luckily the trains were timed well so I had plenty of time to get on the right track.

I sat with a couple chaps at a table. They both worked for a transportation company, or maybe logistics. They were going on a work trip for more training.

The impression I got was they went to school for a specific degree related to this job.

They worked while in uni as interns or journeymen, then received a 1 year commitment at this company. The company seemed well structured and promotions were clear and easy to work towards.

To my right the green pastures rolled past, a green blur.

The great thing about this train was I didn’t have to transfer, it went to Oxford where I stood near the door, ain’t missing this stop!

After a brief walk I was near University of Oxford, a storied place whose history goes back to 1096 but it is likely older, just haven’t found a document yet.

Oxford just feels like a village, full of life as well as proper people.

My hostel was a few blocks from the uni, I found it pretty easy.

It was small and cavernous hostel, winding around a few floors. I got lost a couple of times looking for restroom and shower, located in different parts of the house.

The weather was ok so I sat outside on the patio and tried to join in on a conversation with some employees and a couple of pretty gals from New Zealand.

They were stuck at the hostel waiting as they had checked out but their flight was late at night so they let them hang out in the smokers lounge.

After trying to jump in and join the conversation a few times, I had to give up.

I was hungry so I figured I’d find something a long the way. Literally the 1st restaurant I saw was Nando’s, which I passed up, felt like something different.

Jamaican! Now that is something I don’t get everyday.  I do enjoy a beef pie, jerk chicken, rice, all the stuff.

I belly up to the bar and order a Jamaican pale ale a local brewery made for them. Better than Red Stripe!

I got a couple of pies and side of rice. It was rather expensive for a whole meal, plus very large portion sizes. When I encounter this I just order a couple of appetizers and maybe a salad or side.

A few blocks away was the Eagle and Child pub. It was across the street from the literature department so that explains why lots of writers went there.

It was very small, a bit of standing room in the front before it opens up to a nice room with tables in the back.

Cash only too I recall, no cards here. This is also a real beer destination with 4 hand cranked taps of beer.

In the corner was where the writers met for pints after teaching class. I sat for a good while just wondering what all they talked about…

‘Clive, what are you writing about now?’

‘Well John, it’s about a magical land some children stumble upon, witches and a lion I’m thinking of naming Aslan. How about you?’

‘Oh well I’m still writing about orcs, hobbits, faeries. I think I have cracked writing a new language for the elves as well.’

To my surprise they had last call just after 10pm. I wanted another pint, just not going to get one here.

Probably for the best, it had been a long travel day, I needed to rest up for tomorrow!

Beer Oxford Gold

Song  radiohead   Darkest Hour

Dream trip Day 126 Caerdydd, long walk to the sea, Maxime, party street

The day was overcast and glum outside. I wasn’t sure of what else to do but check out the water. At the time I thought it was the sea but it is actually where River Taff meets the Severn Estuary.

Everyone knows an estuary is the tidal mouth of a large river, where the tide meets a stream…

I began my day popping into a regional coffee chain I’d been to before. I’d mention the name but they aren’t paying me so forget that. Flat white is what I take.

I noticed that in the US, which is called the States by Europeans, you get or pick up things if you shop. Europeans take things when shopping or ordering, ‘I’ll take a coffee.”

Also lack of free or discount refills is a bit annoying. They do have rewards programs but they require a separate card.

Why do we have to carry a separate rewards card when we use the same credit card for most of those transactions? I’m sure it has something to do with credit card companies charging $ for this info.

The long walk to the sea is via this strange walkway, sort of looks like train tracks which would make sense. Trains could pick up the freight from ships and take it into town for distribution.

There were a few houses, a bridge with spooky underpass that screamed for someone to stagger our wielding a knife or sleep under.

Eventually the railway/walkway turning residential, then commercial.

The ferris wheel was in action today but not many wanted a ride on a cloudy day.

I’ll bet there were great views on a clear day from the top bucket of the ferris wheel.

I putted around the port a while, checking out the water, the people and shops.

I walked through a pub’s outdoor seating, which was full of bikers and their bitches. I say bitches because that what I heard them calling their wives/girlfriends. Plus bitch was all over their shirts, jackets.

I get it, you want to appear cool and aloof but man, your mom and your sister aren’t bitches so why is your wife?

I decided to hit up a pub as it began sprinkling rain a bit. I hadn’t had breakfast even, just coffee. It was likely a bad habit I had developed but if you are hungry and want to save $  £ have a cup of coffee then see how hungry you are.

I selected a seat outside on their covered patio which overlooked the water.

I was about halfway through my meal when a guy come up to me holding a camera.

“Hey I got a good picture of you if you want to see it.” said a man who soon introduced himself as Maxime, from Belgium.

“Oh cool, I was just in your country, great beers and cool people!” I replied. He joined me and we talked about Belgium, photography and Europe.

We decided to walk back into town together and get a pint. He had a train to catch in a few hours so that was all the time we had to hang out.

There was a pub just outside the city that I figured would be cool as well as close to the train station.

Outside the pub were many flags including a rainbow flag, I didn’t give it much thought.

Upon entry I saw several dudes inside. After about a quarter of a pint it struck me that we were in a gay bar, not just a gay friendly bar.

Oh well, this place had beer so whatever.

Alas my new friend had to leave so we said farewell.

I popped into another pub along the main street in front of my hostel for a couple hard-fought pints. It was a busy weekend evening.

I then began buying cans of beer from a shop also on the road. I’m not sure that I could drink beer in the street but I did anyways. There were so many people on the street doing rather odd things I felt that was the best option for the night.

After a bit of watching wasted people light the wrong end of their cigarette, fall, fall again, or throw things or just scream it was bedtime.

A fine final night in Cardiff!

Beer:  West Coast Red   Glamorgan Brewing

Song: the Alarm   Rain in the Summertime

Dream trip Day 125 Great Welsh Beer and Cider Festival day 2, the cider side

Upon rising, I found a nice local coffee shop and settled in for a couple of cups of coffee.

I felt it best to use the 2nd day of the beer festival as more of a night-time activity vs an all day affair as had happened the day before.

Today was my big day dealing with a money changer. I searched my bag and gathered up all the random bills I had.

A previous money changing trip I’d learned they do not do coins. I hand the chap behind the glass window my bills and ask for pounds sterling back.

There are people with advanced math degrees and programmers attempting to find even the smallest favorable currency conversions, often changing currencies several times.

You see, money is a joke! You can make more money by just changing currencies, not a reward for work. Or is money for your time…or knowledge?

A part of me thought to save bills as souvenirs but then I thought, nah money isn’t something to save from other places. Use that money to see more of that country.

I had a few more quid in me pocket than previous, let’s check out a pub!

The pamphlet I picked up at the festival had a local real ale list and I happened to be near one after my morning stroll.

Across the street from the castle, down some stairs is Hopbunker. 4 air powered taps of local beers were lined up and ready to go.

I sat near the bar. The pub has only a few people in it. One of those here knows a lot about beer as he is telling most anyone who can hear what types of beer he likes, what he doesn’t, and what he is looking for to taste.

Don’t be afraid about asking to taste a beer if you’re in a pub. Drink what you like, try to learn something about the beers you are drinking, such as the style or hop. Dark or light, hoppy or sour.

Also promise that once you learn about beer, you don’t become insufferable about it to others who may not know as much as you do. Remember we all used to know nothing about beer at one time, bud light was a legitimate drinking option…

I finished my pint and tried walking all the way around the castle but found I couldn’t do that as the garden extended quite a ways behind the castle.

With no plans I hit my bunk for some researching my next move and bit of napping.

Upon rising, I headed out to the Depot for real ale!

It was near dark, dusk  so still light but not much.

Not too much trouble coming in again, though they did want to give me another glass, which I turned back. I brought the 1 I got the day before.

Almost immediately upon entry, I was descended upon by a chap. He seemed keen on talking to me.

He was a cider head he told me, and wanted to get ‘bearded beer fiends to switch to cider. We need more people at ze ciders!’ he exclaimed.

I won’t say I was forced over to the ciders, but if I wanted to talk to a bunch of Welshmen then that’s where they were going.

I’ve had ciders before but they were very sugary, too sweet. Oak Cliff had a cidery I’d been to that made fresh cider, one made using catnip even.

The cider people seemed much more rural, hippy farmers totally. I was soon told to talk to an older lady who was called the grandma of Wales real cider movement.

She was so happy! I was poured an apple cider and it tasted like drinking an apple! Amazing, not extra sweet or anything, just pure apple juice.

I chatted a bit with the crazy, cider lady while my new cider friends stood by grinning.

They had been there a lot longer than I, so they were much more spirited. This made my attempts at getting them to try a beer impossible.

It is a funny human nature that when you get all excited by something you want another one to try so the 2 of you can share in the experience that when the other attempts to reciprocate, the enthusiasm is lacking.

One of the Welshmen located a table so we all sat down. We shared a few glasses of cider, beer. I still wasn’t a fully convert, just more receptive to cider when I encounter it like this, homemade.

If anything this experience made me want to make even more fun of big, sugary commercial ciders that were too sweet.

I shook everyone’s hand around 945-10pm. They were staying until close. I knew it was best for me to be near my hostel at this point, especially if I keep drinking.

Which I did do just that, popping into Tiny Rebel for a couple more pints.

I want to say it was songwriter night and I caught a show, maybe even sang along a bit.

Hard to know when you just drank cider for a couple hours with some Welshmen!

Onward!

Beer  Western Special Waen Brewery

Song  Gene Loves Jezebel   Break the Chain

Dream trip Day 124 Great Welsh Beer and Cider Festival day 1

Today was the day! About 1 mile away was a warehouse called The Depot where the festival was held.

They began early too 11am. Way too early for me.

I figured the best thing to do before going to a beer festival is to have a good meal.

I don’t recall if I had a Welsh fry up or English fry up, they are likely the same thing. Fried or poached eggs, fried tomatoes, blood sausage, mushrooms or beans, some type of fried potato and bread. Whew!

The Depot was about 1 mile or 1.5 miles or 2km walk. Another key to walking this is having another cup of coffee than you’re use to.

Along the route was the Brains brewery so I wondered if they had tours or gift shop. A Brains shirt would be a nice memorial from Cardiff.

Closed to the public though I tried my damnedest to enter. I got the hint as every way in had a closed gate.

No matter, I was soon to have plenty of beer options, most should be from Wales.

Entry was paid in pounds and I received a souvenir glass that could be refilled. You bought beer via cards and each sample would tick off a box.

Inside there were rows and rows of small kegs of beer covered with tarps. Some of the kegs were marked off and would be available on certain days or times.

They really wanted you to buy a 3 day pass. I bought 1 day at a time. Aw well.

I don’t think anyone could’ve drank 1 of each beer and cider at this festival. Over a hundred I would say ready at all times. More limited releases most hours as well.

I was also handed a program with brewery and beer info. A small map of the area included Wales and most of western England where all the breweries were located. Only a few were from London.

Everyone at the festal was very friendly and nice. Everyone spoke English though sometimes a couple would talk Welsh.

Separating 2 rows of beer kegs was a grill. A man behind it was always flipping burgers, rolling sausages, stirring onion, doing serious grill work.

I took to just walking around looking for any oddly named beers or pale ales. Sometimes I would try to talk to the pourers but most of the time just a nod would do.

More than 1 pourer was on his way to being drunk and it was only 1pm.

There were benches that soon filled up though I was able to manage a seat for a bit. I likely circled the options 3x.

The place filled up after a couple hours to the point I took refuge outside.

Any festival or gathering of people means for some that it is the right time to dress up. A lot here were in traditional Welsh, German, or Scots dress.

Lots o’ kilts, leather, cups on clips and finely manicured facial hair.

I watched the sun going down before deciding on just 1 more beer card before calling it a day/night.

A guy near the entrance sold the cards and we swapped pounds for piece of paper.

Most of the booths followed the rules and checked off a box. Only a couple neglected to ask for my card before serving me.

After another hour of bumping into people to get beer I decided it was time to head back, before it was too dark.

I am not sure how safe of an area that part of town was but you never know.

I tipped my hat to the guy at the exit door as I left. It was just dusk, near dark. There were people arriving so it was going to be a long day for some volunteers.

Yup, hard to believe but most everyone pouring, tapping kegs, they weren’t paid. I think some of the breweries were just guys on a farm who made beer for themselves and felt it fun to come into town and share their beer.

Real farmhouse ales.

I rolled into a spot I’d eyed trying for a while, the chicken joint next to my hostel. They made biryani here so that’s what I got.

So good, so hot and so much rice and chicken. I ate a while then took the leftovers outside to drop near one of the many homeless that dot the area stoops.

They stake out a stoop and sleep away the night but are gone by morning.

A fine day with fine beers in Cardiff! One more beer day left tomorrow.

Onwards!

Beer  Tŵti Ffrŵti

Song  Manic Street Preachers  Motorcycle Emptiness

Dream trip Day 123 Walking tour, animal statues, Tiny Rebel pub

Once again it was breakfast with the ladies. Always a good way to start the day with some females.

To my joy, a few were talking about going on a walking tour. I ventured that I too was taking the same tour.

One of the prettiest gals smiled and said she’d follow me over to where the meetup place as she has, ‘a hard time with directions.’

Soon a couple other ladies overheard us talking about the walking tour and also agreed to follow me.

“We’re following him, he looks like he knows where he is going,” one ventured. I’m sure I turned red, that is pretty much 1 phrase out of a handful I aim to hear but rarely do.

To say the tour was close and easy to find would be an understatement. Not to discredit my skills nor my features that indicate my locational knowledge.

Look for the red umbrella held by someone near a fountain a couple of blocks away.

Our guide was a nice Welshman with a thick, unique accent. He had really good diction and smiled a lot.

He also knew quite a lot about Cahr-diff, that’s how he said it.

We made our way on busker’s avenue as he pointed out a castle, garden and other points of interest.

We soon arrived at Cardiff castle, which we weren’t going into but he said it is worth it, to the tourist board. It costs more than it is worth was his official opinion.

“If you enjoy castles, there are better ones outside Cahr-diff. I recommend those over this one in town.” he said.

While I do enjoy traveling, I don’t enjoy looking like a tourist. Map or phone out, camera always taking pics, etc.

I likely could’ve taken over 1000 pics in each location I went to, but I didn’t. I set a goal for my trip, 1 new pic a day for Instagram.

This is actually a very good goal to have when not traveling. If you are in the habit of looking out for anything odd, interesting or otherwise, you will find cool things to take a pic of wherever you live.

We were near the park I had been at the day before. I’d noticed a few animal statues along the wall but didn’t know the full story.  Plus there were a lot of them and I didn’t want to out myself as a tourist.

Turns out a wealthy person originally wanted the castle’s grounds to house a zoo. The city was not into this idea as they felt the animals would get out and terrorize people.

To flip his nose at this decision, he commissioned several stone animals to adorn the wall of the grounds, with the animals posed as if they were escaping.

There are dozens now but the originals all have amber eyes for that extra menacing feel.

Here are the original stone animals as they make it over the wall.

Here’s a side view of the castle.

We made our way down to the port area which was a pretty long walk considering how many of us there were as well as the fact that there wasn’t anything he pointed out on the walk.

Our guide popped into a bakery for pice bach, welshcakes, a national treat. It is very scone like and everyone’s grandma filled them with different fruits.

The one thing he brought up a few times on the tour was the fact that Wales is not on the UK flag though they are most definitely in the United Kingdom.

What I didn’t realize is the Union Jack is actually the flags of England, Ireland and Scotland. How often do you wonder about another nation’s flag?

Here is England’s flag, St George’s cross

Here is Ireland’s flag, St Patrick’s cross

Here’s Scotland’s Flag, St Andrew’s cross

Here’s the UK flag, the ole Union Jack, which clearly is just all 3 crosses laid on top of each other.

Here’s Wales flag, Y Ddraig Goch or the red dragon

What the hell England?! The official reason for the lack of a red dragon on the Union Jack is that technically, the relationship between England and Wales is so old they lump it in with St George’s cross….

That’s some medieval bullshit! England, you have a chance to put a dragon on something official and you don’t do it!?

He then shares the story of how the red dragon came to be. Centuries ago, King Vortigen tries to build a castle but every day whatever they built is knocked down overnight.

The king consults his staff who advise him to find a fatherless boy in the kingdom and sacrifice him. They find a boy who may or not have grown to become Merlin.

He learns he is to be sacrificed and explains to everyone what is really going on: underground there are 2 dragons fighting, red and white. Just dig them out and you can build your castle.

The king does this, the 2 dragons fight and red wins! The boy explains the white dragon represents the Saxons, the red dragon is Vorigen’s people, aka future Welsh.

Our tour concluded near the port where there was some sort of obstacle course being run. I lingered and watched several people struggle to get up a steep ramp.

An early start coupled with a long walk meant a short nap was in order. It is funny since I didn’t have a job, I tended to sleep a couple of times a day. Maybe the idea of a mid afternoon siesta isn’t lazy but smart?

After rising, I seek out Pieminister once again. Lamb pie tonight, good and hot!

Then it is on to a new pub, Tiny Rebel, a small, newish Welsh brewery.

Their beers are fantastic! The pub is very cool too. I’d recommend a stop here even if you aren’t a beer fan.

A great day in Cardiff!

Beer  Cwtch

Song   Super Furry Animals   Fire in my Heart

Dream trip Day 122 Cymru, Scotch egg, park stroll, Brewdog

The estrogen contingent of my hostel was confirmed in the morning when I had breakfast in the basement.

I was the only man in a room of 12 females, college age and just out of high school age plus a retired age lady.

When there are that many women I tend to not talk, it’s best to listen. I’m probably already wrong anyway.

1 table of girls was on a school trip around the UK. Another table was in from a rural city, but the most interesting was the girl who had just finished a year in Cornwall.

Why is that interesting, because they speak Cornish there. She also told us that Northern England had a couple more rarely spoken languages.

I don’t think I knew that there was more than 1 language in England that was older than the country.

Dydh da is a general greeting in Cornish.

Yeghes da is what to say if you toast someone’s glass when drinking, it means good health!

To me it resembled Irish but spoken with a very heavy accent thus making it sound like gibberish. Still though some of their words sounded familiar, we borrowed from them.

Fascinating breakfast discussion. I sure hoped everyone could hear over my bites of corn flakes.

In the kitchen as I cleaned my bowl, I talked with the older lady. She said she was wiped out from a long day walking castles the previous day.

We talked about her and I’s travels and staying in various hostels. She mentioned a lady I think I’d heard about while in Portugal.

This lady would paint landscapes, city scenes and portraits making just enough money to pay for her needs and another train ticket to the next city to do it all over again.

I was directed to just walk west, there is a park and castle that way, plus a shopping area with street performers.

Afternoon was planned and done!

There is indeed a castle, basically in the middle of the road in front of my hostel. There is a fee to view said castle.

Taking a left revealed a very large, very green park. Parks are free!

 

 

There were several pitches where people played footy or football, both types.

The park was overrun by students too. They were in small groups and were learning the history and  points of interest via a clue hunt.

Each clue brought them deeper into the park.

I was selected by a group as a local who had all the answers. I’ll have you know that I knew 1 question correctly.

It had to do with a statue I’d just passed, a beaver I wanted to say. It was an unusual statue of an unusual animal in an unusual location.

It was like the most random spot, they cut down a tree and shrubs and added a wooden beaver statue.  No context, so of course I noticed. You just had to stop to take a peek at the beaver!

I took a few tips on things to see on my walk round the park from the paper of questions each person had.

A bit inside the park was a cafe, so I popped in for a coffee and people watching.

Always important to pause and watch the city, experience the environment and what a normal day really is to the people who live there.

My bowl o’ cornflakes was not satisfying and my belly began to rumble.

I figured walking down 1 street over, through the shops, I would find something to eat.

I did! I found a money changer, too! Haha I had several odd, but large denomination bills from several countries. Tomorrow I would change them all for euros.

So far I’d had to use pounds, euros, francs, koruna, fornit, and zloty. All just different colors of paper.

“What is that piece of paper? We don’t take that kind of paper here!” Money is a joke and not real, it isn’t backed by anything other than faith.

The avenue of shops was filled with buskers playing guitar, human statues and other assorted diversions to extract pounds from you.

Ah a fry spot, they should have something good.

I had my 1st scotch egg with an English friend only a few years ago. I hadn’t had one in the UK so now is the time!

Holy hell, it’s huuuuuge!

I sat outside and watched a teen busker trying his best John Mayer guitar solo. Most everyone I’d seen wanted to be a shredder like Mayer or Ed Sheeran. Can’t say I’m a fan of either style.

Scotch egg was good and tasty! I couldn’t finish it so I dropped the rest off with one of the many homeless that dotted the avenue too.

A bit tired so I headed back to the hostel for a nap and research.

Hostels typically have a pamphlet section and you can get tips on things to do or see. I found a walking tour plus a beer festival.

Wait, these pamphlets are usually old, but yet the festival was this weekend, only a couple of days away! I was going to a Welsh Real Beer festival!

Real beer doesn’t use CO2 to pump rather air pushes the beer out via tap. It is also not refrigerated, stored and poured at room temps.

Lucky again!

I laid down for a bit and wondered what sorts of other things I might do while in Wales.

There was also a Harry Potter tour and I think they filmed Dr. Who around Cardiff too.

Pass, I mean I loved the Potter films, but that was enough. I didn’t need to see props or other proof it is a movie. I still have a lingering desire that it could be real…

I  would do the walking tour tomorrow, then it would be 2 days at the festival a short walk from my hostel.

I never did talk to any girls in my room. we were on different schedules so I usually got the room to myself.

A quick search for food found Piemaster, just down the street.

I just like the idea of a meat pie. Flaky dough and meat. I had a buffalo meat pie, quite hot and filling.

A couple blocks away was a Brewdog pub. I had to check it out. This was my 4th Brewdog experience. I stumbled upon them in Barcelona, Edinburgh, Glasgow and now here!

It was quite nice, good tunes, decent looking bar food. Perfect place to be especially when it poured rain like it was tonight.

I got a pint and sat by the window watching it rain. Cars puddled by, people ran with and without umbrellas most of the night.

I attempted a couple of conversations but it turned into trivia night so everyone did that vs talking.

The thing that makes Brewdog great is they excel in each style they make, plus they are cheeky and take the piss out of big beer any chance they get.

Still raining when I left, I had to throw up my hoodie and fast walk back to the hostel.

In my room I was greeted to the sound of snoring and rain. Just another night at a hostel for me.

I put my earplugs in and fell asleep.

Beer   Not So Safe as Milk

Song  Skindred  Rat Race