Stupid me

I was actually beginning to wonder if I would have anything to write about on this trip. I mean Jane's not on this one, so there's not going to be the "if you say one more word I'm walking that direction and not coming back" fights. London was neat, but nothing really exciting. All the pubs (the latest things open) close around 11-11:30. You can go dancing, but ummmm, my ankle, yes, my ankle is why I can't go dancing.

We went up to Edinburgh with a hostel that didn't have anyone really staying there. Coupled with the constant rain and both of our severe lack of any cold weather clothes, both of us we ready to leave the Scottish capital.

Tonight we had planned to be in warm beds practicing our French in gay Paris. However, fate had other plans. Plans that mostly involved us missing the train we so desperately wanted. Plans that didn't involve us spending the night getting kicked out of a pub at 11:10, getting kicked out of a McDonalds at 12:00, and now sitting in the train station (its 12:30am) waiting for 5am when we can check into the stupid train that leaves at 5:30am. Now, we tried to get a hotel, but the combo of not having internet (I didnt know about the T-Mobile hotspot here), and not being able to find any lodging that had any rooms left us in our current, sad, state. Fortunately, my parents are the wind and adventure, and my hobo punching arm is warmed up.

I guess this really isn't interesting to anyone else. But I know TK readers have a strong social conscience. I mean, now I feel that much closer to the refugees fleeing Darfur.