How to kill a little time.

[jonnyofthedead]

A brief summary of the events of the past few days:

Sunday: parents remove most of the stuffs from my room, leaving me with only laptop plus speakers, and a backpack containing some clothes, a towel, sanitary sundries, etc.
By 10:00, they've fecked orf homewards and I'm tramping the two miles to the station, for to catch a train to Waterloo. Bought Stupid White Men, read it on the train. Moore is an arsehole, and not always right. Funny bastard, though. Arrive at Kings X for about 12:00, and a few tube hops take me to Waterloo. Park arse outside Boots, wait. Am idly staring into space, when tremulous voice says "hello." Me: *panic mode*
"Hello"
Cue lots of slightly embarrassed/shy jabbering, most of which is said much too quickly to be readily understood. Lynne, amazingly enough, doesn't seem to be on the verge of legging it, so continue blathering. We stomp around London for a bit, and eventually settle on walking to St. Paul's. It's a bit pretty inside. Lynne buys carbonated water in crypt cafe, doesn't like it. We also look at all the military graves in the crypt; Nelson's is cool, but the crypt as a whole doesn't begin to match up to the cathedral itself. We then stomp off in search of a decent cafe that isn't Starbuck's (side note: Ryan, your employer's days are numbered. There's one of the bastard places every ****ing five meters in London. >: ); random blathering punctuated by shy silences continues. Eventually locate non-Starbucks eatery, but hunger has vanished, so I just grab a drink; Lynne buys suspicious fruit salad. Suspicious fruit salad found to contain diverse black bits; I end up eating about half of it. Am scavenger king. More stomping around follows, culminating in a trip to the British Museum. It's full of old and cool things. On exiting, we head for a little mall near lynne's hostel; we eat dinner here (or rather, two dinners are ordered, lynne eats about 1/3rd of hers, and the rest is consumed by your correspondent. Told you I was the scavenger king). We then bugger off to see Matrix 2. A few key points:
*London cinemas are crap, and much too expensive
*For those that don't know, there's a trailer for Matrix 3 tagged onto the end of 2, but you have to sit through all the credits to see it. This gets tiresome, and will leave you feeling geeky. Cool trailer, though.
*Matrix 2 not as good as the first and comes a lot closer to drowning in its own pretences. Slo-mo action all played out these days.
*Keanu Reeves would make a lousy Superman.
Film over, lynne returns to hostel to sleep. I'd planned on crashing with a comrade who lives in Egham, but had missed the last train out that way. Instead, rushed back to King's X and returned to Cambridge, where a few hours' sleep were had. Woo.

Monday: Woke up at 08:00-ish, rushed down to station, hopped on train to Nodnol. Ended up getting off tube at Queensway (near lynne's hostel) at around 10:45; was supposed to have met lynne at 10:00. Bugger. >:
Started running hostel-wards, only to bump into a visibly-amused lynne, who'd come out to get a drink. Said hello, went to pick up her ever-so-big backpack, and set off on an underground odyssey, notable primarily for my incredible ability to smash lynne's tent against the underground ticket-checking gates (true to male form, insisted on lugging her outlandishly big pack for her. Go go several thousand years of evolutionary boneheadedness!). Made it through to King's X without destroying too many of her possessions, but left a trail of destruction in my wake. Lynne continued to be amused/appalled. Train ride to Cambridge involved lots of shy silence and half-conversations. Also, some half-sleeping.
Arrived in Cambridge at about 14:00, marched off to room with lynne in tow; pointed out various sights to her as we went. Might have babbled incomprehensibly for a bit as well. Was planning on showing her the Fitzwilliam Museum's contents, but it was closed, so instead, we dumped our bags in my room and trekked around town for a bit, looking at various colleges. This grew old after a bit, so we walked along the Backs, looking at insects and birds and sneering at loutish students. Saw a bird that had made its nest in the middle of the river, also saw ickle birds with mother. All very cute, etc. Cue much girly squawking, some of it from Lynne.
That got old fast, so when done, we trekked off down-river, there seemingly being little else to do in town. We trekked and trekked and trekked, and eventually got to Grantchester, a village famous mostly for being picturesque and being inhabited by the village idiot's village idiot, namely Jeffrey Archer. Since he's now residing at Her Maj's leisure, that leaves only the attraction of the general picturesqueness for Grantchester. That's OK, though. It's quite nice without the blithering Tory moron, really. On way back, realised that there was a path that runs along the riverbank. This is better than the one that runs alongside the hedge and meadow. Thereafter, we walked up to the other end of the Cam and picnicked while looking at houseboats. Lynne drank a very big smoothie and I drank a smaller one. We then combined them to make a demon-smoothie, and drank that too. Getting tired of such childish antics, we decided to be all sophisticated, and went for a few drinks. £4.50 for a double vodka and coke? This town needs a napalm enema sometimes. We failed miserably at being sophisticated, and opted for drunken disgrace instead. We're so bad.

Tuesday: Lazy morning followed by trip to now-open Fitzwilliam Museum. Like British Museum, was full of interesting old things, but museum fatigue was beginning to set in. Returned to town centre, went to St. John's college to examine the Bridge of Sighs and watch people punt themselves into walls. Walked through various parts of college marked "members only," but look like students, so no-one hassled us. Well, a girl who once blew up a chemistry practical said hello, but that was it. Following this, walked all the way to the other end of town, to the Botanical Gardens. Was disgusted to find out that university members don't get to bring guests into the gardens for free. Contemplated going for stunned outrage, but opted instead to meekly pay fee. Am still waiting to inherit Earth. Gardens pretty, walk pleasant. Saw X2 in the evening. Was v. silly, but engagingly so. Geneticist in me screamed and threatened to visit dire vengeance upon screenwriters when "mutant gene" was mentioned. Then slept.

Wednesday/Thursday: Having exhausted most of Cambridge's entertainment options (look at old stuff/drink a lot), we said goodbye to the town, and set forth on a little adventure in Fenland. A lot of this was spent tramping along ill-signed paths, and/or following the river as it winds its way to the sea. Saw many wazzocks in boats getting all sticky. Joey would have been proud. Walked and walked and walked, and got very tired. Had planned to walk to Little Thetford, but were in no mood for that after having taken an unplanned detour, so took a train to Ely and walked to Thetford from there. Pitched tent at Thetford, then set off once more, this time in search of a pub.

Found one in the next village, 3 miles away.

Am going to slap the person responsible for designing an english village that has no pub.

Anyway, refreshing drinks became....non-refreshing drinks. Lynne revealed that she likes neither IPA nor lager and lime. Was disappointed in this. She does, however, like snakebite and black. Suspect she may be a goth in denial. Then again, I had one as well.

*busts out the Joy Division t-shirt, mopes*

We're disgraceful.

Another long, tent-based lie-in was followed by a lesiurely stroll back home. Leisurely because last night's disgraces had involved lynne falling awkwardly and twisting her ankle (lynne interjects: "ankle now the size of a baseball"). Fenland is quite pretty, really, and wild roses >>>> crappy domesticated varieties. Probably hardier, too, so if any of you miserable lot are planning on doing any gardening soon, nick some. In total, walked some 30km over the two days. Feel v. accomplished. Also, invented new camping meal: peanut butter squidge. Am so 1337. Now we're going to buy some fudge and laze.

The end....of sorts

[jonnyofthedead]

Well, it's now Sunday, so I've another few days' activities to report/document.

Friday: More lazing. Lounged around in bed for a bit (i.e. until about 12:00). Strolled around town one final time, and lynne took photos. Laid down by the stream running along the Backs, overlooking King's, and felt generally satisfied with the way things were going. In evening, took my beloved to Pizza Hut (am so very, very classy). Anchovies v. potent flavouring.
Roused her from her slumbers at 02:15 in order to sort out accomodation for the next day - the plan was to abandon Cambridge and het for Cardiff by way of Birmingham, where we'd crash overnight with a guy from another BB altogether.

Saturday: Packed stuff, hopped on train, went to Birmingham, ended up getting very drunk with a man called Russell. So it goes.

Sunday: Abandoned man named Russell, headed for Cardiff. Abandoned beloved in backpacker's hostel for the night, as she's all independent-minded, and doesn't want to be shacked up in a single bed with an ugly great lunk like me. Also, parents would give her the third degree....which would be all sorts of fun, I'm sure. Anyway, 'tis a very good, very old friend's birthday tomorrow, so celebrations are to be held in Cardiff centre. And on Tuesday, beloved and I set off for the Brecon Beacons for a few days of tramping around the mountains and going "oooh, pretty."

Also for lazing in tents.

[seekerofvisions]

Geneticist in me screamed and threatened to visit dire vengeance upon screenwriters when "mutant gene" was mentioned.

...

Anyway, refreshing drinks became....non-refreshing drinks. Lynne revealed that she likes neither IPA nor lager and lime. Was disappointed in this. She does, however, like snakebite and black. Suspect she may be a goth in denial. Then again, I had one as well.

*busts out the Joy Division t-shirt, mopes*

haha! <3