Over and Done But Never Forgotten

As most of you know and as some of you may not know, I have finished my travels and returned home after almost eight months of being on the move. I had my ups and downs, my favorites and not-so-favorites, but I wouldn’t trade any of my experiences abroad for anything. Deciding to take a hiatus from my normal life and travel around the world has been one of the most enriching and rewarding experiences ever. I found a self-reliance I never knew I had, I accomplished activities I never thought I would, I met people I wouldn’t have ordinarily met, and I indulged in cultures I’d only previously read about in books. I believe that everyone should take the opportunity, if possible, to travel and open their hearts and minds to a way of life other than their own. I did what I set out to do, and though my journey is now over, I will carry what I learned with me always. Now it’s on to the next chapter…

I want to thank all of you who kept up with me and my adventures through my blog. Your comments and well-wishes helped me through some rough times and through the good times just knowing you were out there seeing it all through my eyes made me smile. If anyone would like to contact me, feel free to email me at j_sembler@yahoo.com.

Driving, Driving, Driving

Anthony and I stayed with his friend Shane in Galway for a few days. We went for a ride through the countryside one day that was absolutely beautiful. Ireland really is the greenest place I’ve ever seen. From remote roads all you can see is green for miles. After the weekend, we rented another car from Galway to do a tour of the south of Ireland. This time the car company gave us a brand new VW Golf. I thought car companies usually give you the cheapest cars to rent unless you pay a lot for it, but not in Ireland. When I rented in NZ, they gave me a 1992 Toyota Corolla that had about 100,000 kilometers on it. Old or new, they get me from here to there, but in Ireland I was driving in style. Since I’d already driven a fair bit of Ireland in a manual, I was more confident this time around, but the roads in the south were fairly narrow and windy, and it took a great deal of concentration not to crash into oncoming traffic or the trees on the side.

We first stopped in Ardrahan where Anthony’s aunt and cousins live on a proper Irish farm. After dropping our stuff and enjoying a cup of tea, we left to visit the Cliffs of Moher on the Clare coast. It was supposed to only take an hour to get there, but we went the wrong way from the start and it took a bit longer. Since we arrived late, the visitor center was closed and we didn’t have to pay to view the cliffs; I don’t think you should have to pay to view a natural phenomenon anyhow. To our amusement we also got out of paying for parking. They were charging 8euro just to park, but when we got back from viewing the cliffs a little after 7pm, we saw that the parking attendants had gone home. We stayed with Anthony’s aunt for the night and left stuffed full of Irish breakfast in the morning. On a side note, I absolutely love Irish breakfasts. I can feel my arteries clogging every time I eat them, but I just can’t help myself. I figure I might as well eat as many authentic breakfasts as I can while I’m in Ireland. I’ll get back to my oatmeal when I get home.

Dingle, on the aptly named Dingle Peninsula, was our first destination. It’s only a small town, but very scenic. It took us a good four hours to get there from Ardrahan, and we passed right by the hostel once we got in, but we found it eventually. We took a walk in town, but it was dead with only a scattering of people here and there. Instead of hanging out in town, we bought food to cook dinner and holed up in the hostel for the night. The hostel was a huge old manor house that used to serve as a soup kitchen during the famine. The weather had taken a turn for the worse, so Anthony and I hung out in the common room, lit a fire, and relaxed with a bottle of wine for the night.

The next day we headed for Killarney, but first we drove around the famed Ring of Kerry, which is basically interconnected roads along the Iveragh Peninsula. It was an absolutely stunning drive, albeit a tough one to navigate. I stopped a few times along the way because I was concentrating so hard on the roads that I missed most of the scenery. I thought I had seen beautiful views before, but the Ring of Kerry really is breathtaking. We then made our way to Killarney, the beginning and the end of the loop. That night we went out to a pub to catch a trad session (traditional music). I love listening to Irish music, and I love how informal it usually is – just a few guys with instruments jamming while drinking a pint each. The pub was packed and we seat-hopped until we scored a plush couch, where we set up camp for the night. An Irish band came on after the trad session and played a mix of traditional Irish songs and rock music. They were great and though I was nearly falling asleep, tired after driving for hours, I couldn’t tear myself away from the music and we ended up staying until they finished.

We left for Cork the next morning, and I have to admit that I am not a fan of the place. People rave about how great Cork is, but I didn’t think it was anything special. It was probably due to the circumstances when we arrived; it was pouring buckets, having made no prior reservations we found that the hostels were booked out for the weekend, and the roads were impossible to navigate. The only detailed map we had of the city was in the Let’s Go guide, but even that omits the smaller streets that are essential to know in order to find where you are in the city. After finding the first hostel was booked, we tried to make our way to the second hostel but to no avail. We drove around for over an hour, yelling at each other in the car, until I finally pulled into a spot on the side of the road, and Anthony jumped out to find the hostel on foot. An hour later, he finally came back and told me that he’d been to three hostels, which were also booked. We called our last and final option, and luckily they had beds left. It was a little out of town but better than nothing. By that time it was 4pm and neither of us had eaten anything since breakfast so we went out in search of lunch. We were dead-set on Domino’s, which Anthony had seen on the way to the hostel but couldn’t remember where it was. We ended up getting stuck in the city center for an hour and a half in traffic, moving only an inch every minute. I finally pulled into an illegal spot, and Anthony left to find a Domino’s. He returned after a half hour with Subway. Apparently, the Domino’s had been a mirage. We ate in the car since we couldn’t leave it parked illegally, and then headed back to the hostel. When the rain finally stopped, we set out toward the city to have a look around –I wasn’t very impressed. Ironically, we passed a Domino’s on the way into the city, which we ended up having for dinner since we hadn’t found it earlier that day. We went out for a quiet drink afterward and then headed back to the hostel.

We made our way to Blarney, only 8km away from Cork, the next day to visit the Blarney Castle and stone. We spent a few hours exploring the castle and the grounds and made our way up to the Blarney stone at the top of the castle. It’s really only a small piece of a stone slab that you arch backwards to kiss. Legend has it that if you kiss the stone you’ll never be at a loss for words again. Legend also has it that local boys drunkenly stumble to the stone in the middle of the night and pee on it knowing tourists flock in hordes to kiss it. It had rained heavily the morning that we made our way to the stone so I was hoping that if it were true, at least the pee would have been washed away.

After visiting Blarney, we left for Kilkenny, a quintessential Irish city. I was pleased that we arrived at our hostel and found a parking spot easily. I was hoping Kilkenny wouldn’t be like Cork in the way of driving, and thankfully it wasn’t. We went out in Kilkenny that night with a few people from the hostel. After a few drinks at a local pub, we decided to hit up a nightclub and dance. The first one we entered was a bit too goth and rockerish for my tastes so we left. The next one we came to was charging a cover, and as backpackers, we don’t do covers so we moved on. We turned down another street and entered a club, not initially realizing it was the back entrance to the club we had just tried to go into. The bouncer didn’t stop us and we were pleased that we’d gotten in for free somehow. The place was dead and was playing horrible music so we didn’t stay very long. I was happy we hadn’t paid to get in to only stay for 15 minutes.

On our way back to Galway the next day, we stopped in to visit Anthony’s aunt again before making it back to Shane’s apartment. We dropped the car in the next morning to my delight. I was proud of myself that I had driven all over Ireland on the “wrong” side of the road in a manual car, but I wouldn’t want to do it again anytime soon. I’ll be happy to get back to my automatic when I’m home. Gas go, Brake stop, no clutch needed.

To the North and Back

I arrived in Northern Ireland last week after finding a cheap Easyjet flight from Glasgow to Belfast. I stayed with my friend Richard’s parents in Antrim for a few days. On my second night, they took me for a coastal drive along the famed Antrim coast through the Glens of Antrim all the way to Portrush. On a clear day you can see across to Scotland, but unfortunately the night we went couldn’t have been any foggier. In fact, on the supposedly most spectacular part of the drive we were actually driving through a cloud and could barely see three feet ahead, let alone miles across to Scotland. I enjoyed the drive regardless and sat taking in the scenic greenery of Northern Ireland.

I spent the next day touring Belfast city. I decided to take one of those big, red sightseeing buses. In every city I visit I always want to take one but they are usually expensive so I opt to walk around myself finding the sights. Everyone recommended that I take a black taxi tour of Belfast but when I contacted the different companies I was told that it would cost 25pounds for one person. I asked to join another group if possible but I was denied. I figured the big red bus would be the next best thing so I bought a ticket,
sat back, and listened to the driver comment on the sights and the history of Belfast. We passed the murals in West Dublin, where most of the troubles of the past culminated, and it was fascinating to see the opposing sides. Though Belfast is in a time of peace at the moment and the troubles are, for the most part over, there is still tension between the two sides and it is most apparent in West Dublin where the Catholic and Protestant areas are divided by 50 foot fences in some places. It’s crazy to think that a westernized country like Northern Ireland isn’t exempt from hostilities
stemming from religion and country loyalties.

The next day I took a bus down to Dublin where I met up with Anthony. Since he was extremely jet-lagged after having flown direct from Australia, I set out on the streets of Dublin on my own for a bit and ventured down the main thoroughfare, O’Connell Street, to take in some city sights. The next day Anthony and I went to the Guinness Storehouse. The storehouse was huge and full of information on everything Guinness but was a little expensive at 14euro. It did, however, include a free pint and I had my first proper pint of Guinness. It’s not my favorite beer in the world and is a bit on the heavy side, but I did enjoy it. We met up with his friend, Paddy, later that day and stayed with him for another night in Dublin before heading north to County Cavan, where Anthony is from.

I spent a few days in Cavan and saw my first Gaelic football match. I’d only ever heard the term Gaelic football but had no idea what it entailed. It seemed to me to be a little bit of every sport thrown together. It’s like rugby, soccer, and American football all rolled into one. I also saw the Shannon Pot, which is where the Shannon River, Ireland’s longest river, rises from the ground. I decided though to rename it the Shannon “Kelly” in honor of one of my dearest friends.

We decided to rent a car for the next few days and head up north. Traveling Ireland by car is by far the most convenient way to see the country but since Anthony doesn’t have a driver’s license, I had to drive. I didn’t mind until I found out that the car rental company didn’t have any automatics. Now I know how to drive manual – it’s what I learned on – but I hadn’t driven a manual in almost six years and not only did I have to drive a manual, but it was on the opposite side of the road. At first I was nervous, but I practiced on his mom’s car to get used to it. The rental company gave us a brand new Toyota Yaris and off we went. It was a little awkward at first but I got the hang of it and drove around Northern Ireland and the north of the Republic for the next three days. It took a little getting used to the serious amount of roundabouts but I was virtually a pro by the time we dropped the car off.

The Giant’s Causeway was our first destination. We made it to Portstewart, where we were staying, in good time and then set out for the natural wonder that is the Giant’s Causeway. Basically, it’s a series of honeycomb-shaped rocks formed through volcanic activity. It looked to me like a rock version of Superman’s home in the original Superman series. It was interesting to see and was an absolutely beautiful day so we spent some time there before heading to the Bushmill’s Distillery. I’m not big on whiskey but it was interesting to learn how it’s made and matured. Like the Guinness tour, this one also came with a free drink but I decided to go for a hot tottie, a delicious blend of whiskey, sugar, and hot water, instead of straight whiskey.

We left Portstewart the next day and headed southwest to County Donegal. We checked into our hostel in Letterkenny and headed out for a drive to see the beautiful countryside that Donegal is known for. We drove for a few hours up to high point overlooking the water and mountains, and then made our way down to a nearby beach and set up camp for a few hours. It was an extremely peaceful afternoon barring the two women, their children and dogs that decided to set up near us. The children screamed the whole time and the dogs ran all over the beach, jumping on me and Anthony a few times. The women finally leashed the dogs to the bumper of their cars after their wet dogs jumped on us for the fourth time and we jumped up yelling.

Since our three-day lease was almost up, we went back down to Sligo to stay with Anthony’s aunt for a night before dropping off the car the next day. We went out to Strandhill, a really picturesque beachfront area, and decided to get impromptu seaweed baths. I’d never had a seaweed bath before but they are supposed to be good for the skin and circulation. I started with a steam and then took the bath. I could barely take the steam room – it was way too hot for me, and my face looked like a tomato when I exited. I was supposed to stay in there for five minutes but I barely lasted four. I think if someone wanted to torture me, all they’d have to do is throw me in a steam room. I’d give up any information they wanted. The bath was too hot for me at first but once I got used to it, it was extremely relaxing and enjoyable. We met up with Anthony’s aunt after our baths, and went out for dinner on the water to soak up the last rays of the day. I have to say that the weather in Ireland has been brilliant. I even had beautiful weather in the UK. Everyone complains about how gray and rainy it is, but luckily I’ve had a different experience.

Anthony and I headed to Galway the next day. We were supposed to meet up with Shane, Anthony’s friend, in the early afternoon but Shane got held up at work so Anthony and I dropped our things off in front of his flat and laid towels on the grass to sunbathe. We had no way of getting into the apartment so we chilled on the lawn for a few hours waiting for Shane. The weather was so nice though that I didn’t mind one bit. Eventually Shane arrived and we all went out for dinner and a fantastic night on the town sampling the best of Galway pubs.

Taking It Easy

I haven't posted in a while and I probably won't for a while so I just wanted to give you guys a brief update.

After my highlands tour, I returned to Edinburgh for a night. Then I was in Glasgow for two days. It was good fun. I met up with my Scottish friend Lorraine that I met in Australia and we spent a nice day together. I then flew to Northern Ireland where I stayed with my friend Richard's parents in Antrim (right outside of Belfast). They were wonderful and beyond hospitable. I'm a bit under the weather at the moment so sorry for the lack of flair in this post. I'm just too tired to think at the moment. I'll be back posting soon enough though...don't you worry.

Lovely, Lovely Scotland

I arrived in Edinburgh last week and headed straight out on a hostel-organized pub crawl to experience Scotland’s infamous drinking culture. I had a blast and met a ton of people from the hostel that I ended up hanging out with all week. Events like that are always a great way to meet people especially when you’ve just arrived in a city.

I spent the next few days exploring Edinburgh’s medieval streets. I joined a tour one morning that was really informative, perhaps too informative. The guide gave a full history of Scotland and pointed out many little spots of interest in the city that ordinarily you’d walk right past. I came away knowing much more Scottish history than I’d ever known before. I visited some other sights in Edinburgh, but most I just took pictures of rather than really exploring. Prices here are absolutely ridiculous so I refuse to pay for them. They were charging 11pounds just to enter Edinburgh Castle so I stepped out of line and just took a picture. I’m sure the outside is nicer than the inside anyway.

I signed myself up for a Macbackpackers jump on/jump off tour of Scotland that I left for on Monday. I was happy to join a tour that takes you to major sights and describes them. Sometimes it can be frustrating figuring everything out on my own so I was happy to put myself into more capable hands for a few days. The first day of the tour we stopped in Pitlochry, the Battlefield of Culloden, and a few other places before I was dropped off in Inverness. I think Neil, the guide, might have had a few marbles loose but at least he was highly entertaining, and for the most part, informative, albeit in an unconventional way.

I went on a cruise on the famous Loch Ness while I was in Inverness – it was my main reason for visiting. It turned out to be a beautiful day and I sailed along the lake for three hours passing a few castles and other monuments. Unfortunately (or fortunately depending on your view) we had no sightings of the mysterious Loch Ness monster. I was surprised the cruise didn’t really play up the monster card. It’s not like people really come just to see the lake (there are plenty of lakes to see), they come to hear about the monster but the cruise didn’t really pay it much mention. Regardless, it was a relaxing time on the water. That night Michelle, a girl on my tour, and me went out for a drink at Hootananny’s to listen to some traditional Scottish music. I was thinking bagpipes (which in hindsight probably would have blown out our eardrums in a small venue) so I was surprised to see an informal trio seated at a table with a pint each in front of them, playing a guitar, violin, and small drum. Nevertheless, I really enjoyed listening and it was an enjoyable evening.

The next day I rejoined the tour and headed to the Isle of Skye. We were supposed to be picked up from the hostel at 3:30pm, but the guide didn’t show up until 5pm. I was already bored out of my mind and itching to leave Inverness (there isn’t much to do barring cruising the loch) so I was a bit annoyed. We made it to Skye later than expected and I set out with a few people for dinner as soon as we got there. On the way to Skye, we passed the Eilan Donan Castle, which is the most photographed castle in all of Scotland. You may recognize it from one of the Bond films. I don’t know which one, so if you know, let me know.

The following morning we left early for the Isle of Skye day tour. I’m really glad that I signed up for the day tour because it would have been impossible to explore and fully appreciate the island on my own. We stopped in a few small villages for a look around before heading to a river that supposedly imparts youth on those who bathe in it. Jo, the tour guide, had a story for each part of the tour and was bursting with information. At the river she told the story of the Amazonian women of Skye and their leader who in actuality was 265, but only looked to be in her 20’s because she bathed in the river each and every day. We all stuck our faces in as a result. I had a rosy-cheeked glow after, but only because the river was freezing. We went for an hour and a half walk after that up one of the mountains. It was a semi-strenuous walk but the views from the top were absolutely beautiful. We also visited some interesting rock formations and the Fairy Glen, where apparently the fairies of Skye hang out. It was actually a really peaceful place, and while everyone else scrambled up to the top of the glen, I stayed at the bottom and sat quietly in the sun for a while soaking up its sinking rays. It was one of my favorite moments.

On the last day, we left Skye early in the morning and headed back toward Edinburgh. We stopped at a few places along the way including the castle featured in Monty Python and the Holy Grail. I’d never seen the movie so it didn’t mean much to me, but Jo came trotting down the path after entering the castle with clapping coconuts. Even though I’d never seen the movie, I saw Spamalot so I knew she was imitating the “horsemen” so it was pretty funny. We also stopped at the William Wallace Monument in Stirling on the way back. The monument was one of the main sights I wanted to see in Scotland. As anyone who knows me knows well, Braveheart is my favorite movie so the William Wallace Monument was a must on my agenda. It’s ridiculously huge and overlooks the city of Stirling. There’s also a stone statue of Mel Gibson as Braveheart at the bottom but funnily enough, it’s caged to prevent vandalism. I guess the Scottish people aren’t too keen on Mel’s version of Wallace. Jo told us the whole history of William Wallace and how he is a hero to the Scottish people. As most people know, Braveheart isn’t really historically accurate but I was disappointed to learn that Wallace was most likely in the priesthood before he started the revolution against the English and hence did not start the war to avenge his murdered love. That’s Hollywood for you but I suppose everyone, including me, likes a good love story.

Just Say No to National Express

I spent a few days in Manchester, a place I will never return during a Man U home game. My hostel was overrun by loud, animated, and drunk-at-noon (game started at 8pm) Italians out to cause a stir after what happened at last week’s Man U vs. Roma game. I was watching an English soap opera in the TV room with two Australian girls but that was taken over by English fans eager to watch the game and criticize the players, as if they would do better on the field. I ended up watching the game, because really I had no other choice, and Man U won 7-1 disgracing Roma. It wasn’t a very eventful game though; Manchester had effectively won in the first 20 minutes, and the Italians had their asses handed to them.

I went to bed fairly early, around midnight, because I had to be up at 7:15am to take the bus to York the next day. I was rudely awaken at 4am by retardedly drunk Man U fans outside my window singing every tribute song to the players at the top of their lungs. Half of them probably didn’t even know their names at that point but could sing every corny anthem to Ronaldo and Rooney as if it were second nature. This went on for 45 minutes. I was so livid that I was tempted to scream out the window but I’ve learned from experience that telling drunk people to “shut up” only incites them to yell louder so I kept quiet and prayed for rain.

I eventually fell asleep only to be woken by two stumbling roommates as they entered he room replaying the game’s details to each other as if they hadn’t been sitting side by side watching the game. After they fell asleep, or more likely passed out, I was able to get some rest until one’s cell phone went off at regular 4-minute intervals starting at 7am. I tried to wake him at first, but to no avail, so I forcefully (I know I’m terrible) shook his shoulder but he was comatose and didn’t move. I picked up his ringing clothes and threw them away from the bed to stop the phone. I was in no mood to deal with it peacefully; what can I say, I was cranky. Besides all of that, Manchester was ok.

I made my way to the bus station the next morning and was almost refused entry because it was booked out at Leeds. The exceptionally kind bus driver told me to board anyway and see if people didn’t show. Otherwise, I would have had to get off at Leeds and take another bus to York. Luckily there were a few no-shows so I was able to stay on all the way to my destination. I was grateful the bus driver had been so accommodating – few National Express drivers are. Which brings me to my next point – I abhor National Express and buying the Brit Xplorer pass was the worst travel move I’ve ever made. I’d advise anyone against it and urge them to just buy tickets individually because it would be cheaper (I would have saved 100pounds if I did) and you’re guaranteed a seat (which I never was). The Brit Xplorer passes are huge scams and not worthwhile unless you plan on taking a bus every single day, but of course they don’t write that on the website so it sounds like a good deal.

I only had a day in York so I just walked around taking in the sights. York is a quintessential medieval English town complete with cobbled sidewalks and old-style buildings. I ventured over to the imposing York Minster, the town’s cathedral, and rather than going in (I’ve seen cathedrals before) just took a few pictures from the outside. The rest of the day I wandered aimlessly around and enjoyed the weather. That night, I went on a York Ghost Trail walk around the city. York is noted for being the most haunted city in England, and the guide took us around the town and pointed out where supposed ghosts and spirits lurk. It was actually a really entertaining tour and the guide, who was dressed in a tux with tails and a top hat, was funny and theatrical.

When I had arrived in York, I inquired about buses to Edinburgh and was informed that there was only one departure daily. I thought it best to reserve a seat rather than risk getting shut out of the bus, but when I asked the woman she told me that I was unable to reserve a seat. Apparently reservations for the Brit Xplorer pass can only be made at National Express offices, not National Express ticket agents. I was, once again, pissed at National Express. There was absolutely no way for me to reserve a seat and I had to just hope that the bus wasn’t full because she also wasn’t able to tell me how many seats were left. They really shouldn’t label their offices “tickets and information” when they don’t provide either. I was, fortunately, able to board the bus to Edinburgh the next morning without a problem, and arrived six hours later.

Home of the Beatles

I continued my London sightseeing with a day at Tate Modern, London's famous modern art museum on the South Bank. I spent a few hours wandering around the exhibits, fighting the crowds. I really enjoyed the vast amount of work on display, but it was way too packed for my taste. It's frustrating when you're trying to stand back and enjoy Dali's "Metamorphosis of Narcissus" and people's heads keep bobbing back and forth in front of you.

The next day I picked up Sam at the National Theater and we set out for Madame Tussaud’s Wax Museum. When we got off the tube station on Baker Street, I could already see the line for the museum, and not just one line, but three jutting off in different directions for different purposes. We ended up on the appropriate line for those who hadn’t purchased tickets and Sam went to inquire about prices. She came back with a price list in her hand and we decided against going to Madame Tussaud’s. The admission price was 25pounds – that’s 50USD to look at some wax figures. I can do that in New York. We decided instead to check out the massive Victoria and Albert Museum, which is coincidentally free, and we spent a few hours roaming around. My favorite exhibit was that on fashion, which was initially closed, but was open to the public when we checked again before we left. Afterwards we hung out at her hotel for a bit and then headed out for a pizza dinner. It was the first real meal that I’d actually eaten since I arrived in the UK; I’d been subsisting on pot noodles and sandwiches so I enjoyed it thoroughly. I dropped Sam off at the theater for her play that night a little while later and we hugged goodbye. It was so good to see her and I can’t remember the last time that we had a whole day like that to enjoy together.

To conclude my London sightseeing, I walked all the way from Shoreditch to Leicester Square (over an hour’s walk) to see the Photographer’s Gallery. I was sorely disappointed. I really love photography and I was looking forward to the gallery, but it was tiny and only featured a handful of not-overly-impressive photos from three artists. I stayed for a bit, and headed back out into the city. It was still really early and I was bored so I found a ticket kiosk and inquired about matinees for the day. It was 1:45pm at that point, and most matinees start at 2:30pm or so, so I’d left the gallery at just the right time. I asked the cashier what she suggested out of what was available and she recommended “We Will Rock You,” the Queen and Ben Elton production at Dominion Theater so I bought a ticket on a whim. My seat was crap and in the second to last row but the whole back section of the theater was empty so I moved to the second row of the last section and actually had a really good view of the stage. At first I wasn’t too keen on the play, the set was a bit minimalist and I’m more partial to all-out productions, but I was clapping and cheering along with the rest of the crowd by the end of it. I really enjoyed it, and I was happy that I got to see a genuinely-English production, not something that I could easily see on Broadway in New York. Plus, the main characters’ voices were fantastic and I enjoy the music of Queen, so it was totally entertaining.

On my last day in London, I met up with Tracy and Jules, friends from England I had met in Australia, for dinner and drinks. I felt so bad because I was late meeting Tracy. I first had to go all the way to Victoria Station so I could reserve my seat for the bus I was taking the next day (and you all know how I feel about reserving seats). I didn’t want to get shut out of the bus though with it being Easter weekend and all. So anyway after taking a few different tubes, I finally got to the National Express office at Victoria Coach Station and was dismayed to see that there was a 20-person line. I waited though because I had no other choice – I needed to be on the bus the next day. It was one of the slowest moving lines ever with people asking the dumbest questions (I couldn’t believe half of them actually waited to inquire about buses in two weeks) but I finally made it to the front, made my reservation, and jetted back to the Underground. I finally met up with Tracy and we joined a few of her friends out at a small pub in Soho. We stayed for a bit and then moved camp to an Indian restaurant in the same area that advertised a decent happy hour. When we arrived, we found that the drinks weren’t as cheap as we had thought but decided to stay anyway. Everyone ordered the most outrageous drinks from Jamaican Mules to Cardamom and Pineapple Martinis to Passion Fruit Mojitos and passed them around for everyone to try. After the happy hour ended, we went upstairs for a fantastic Indian meal – the best I’d had in a long time. There was heaps of it, and never one to leave food on my plate, I was stuffed by the end. We found another bar after dinner for a few more drinks and then decided to call it a night soon after.

The next day I took an extremely packed bus to Liverpool. The journey was five hours anyway and we got stuck in tons of traffic so it took us an hour and a half longer to get there than expected. When I arrived in Liverpool, I asked the woman behind the counter if she could point out where my hostel was on a map and she informed me that it would only be a 10-minute or so walk. I thought that was doable so I started down the street. I met two girls with backpacks on the way who were obviously headed to the same hostel, and we arrived at the front door forty-five minutes later. Though I’d unloaded as much stuff as I could in Sam’s suitcase, my backpack stills weighs a decent amount and I was beat by the time we got there. Since the bus had been late and it was night by the time I arrived, I stayed in and enjoyed my book rather than going out.

After breakfast and a shower I set out for Albert Dock to see the Beatles Story, my main reason for visiting the city of Liverpool – Home of the Beatles. I entered the audio-guided exhibition and spent two hours learning about the history of the Beatles from start to finish. The exhibition was well executed and I learned so much information that I had never even known. If anything there was too much information between the audio guide, the memorabilia and recreations, and the written information on the walls. I was going to also go on the Magical Mystery Tour, a bus ride around Liverpool that points out major Beatles sites, but I was all Beatled-out by the time I left the exhibit so I opted out. I did however make my way over to the famed Cavern Quarter near Mathew Street to check out the Cavern Club where the Beatles used to rock out on stage and The Grapes bar where the Beatles used to hang out before and after their gigs. I really enjoyed the day and I was happy to see some kind of history that didn’t involve a cathedral.