Wales...at last.

Travel plans have changed a little over here. We won’t be going to Disneyland in Paris on the way to the coast; they’ve decided it’s too out if the way. We might still go there on a separate weekend, though. No complaints here, I’m still spending a week on the French coast and staying in a couple incredibly beautiful hotels en route there and back. Check them out: http://www.pavillondegouffern.com/ & www.chateau-saintpaterne.com.

I found out this week that Nina’s "friend" is someone she met in the same way that we connected and they’ve only met once. So, it’s basically four strangers from four different countries, with four different mother tongues, meeting up for one crazy weekend in London; one from Canada, one from Finland, one from Austria and one from South Africa. How unbelievably cool is that? It somehow makes the world seem so much smaller.

I started one of the antique books: The Pilgrims Progress, written by one John Bunyan in 1675. I’m a little concerned about getting through it, though, because the ways we entertain ourselves in this day and age are a little more extreme and fast paced then in the 17th century, therefore it can sometimes take quite a bit to hold our attention; I’ll let you know how it goes down.

***Everything written above was done so before leaving for Wales on Friday afternoon***

"We’ve just returned home from a good long walk along the beach followed by the greasiest fish & chips I’ve ever ingested. Did you know they serve something called a faggot, here? Faggots and peas; I felt like I needed to wash my mouth out with soap just asking what it was. My body has been completely overtaken by that wonderfully intoxicating comatose sensation you get after being cold due to a prolonged blast of strong ocean wind. I’m currently curled up on a couch in Catherine’s parents’ conservatory, warm and cozy, reveling in comfort as shivers go up and down my spine. We arrived at our destination just after 4:00pm; an old steel town in Wales called Port Talbot. The town has been around for centuries, but I believe the steel mill that was built on the water in the early 1900’s was responsible for the majority of its growth and development. Jonathan’s father was killed there when Jonathan was in his early 20’s. So many of the neighborhood streets here are lined with rows of long, skinny, identically styled, stucco houses that are literally attached to each other, with only a slight variation in color and landscaping. It’s actually sort of an incontestably more charming version of New Westminster. The Welsh are a very proud people and I mean that in the most commendable way possible. Never say to a Welsh person that Wales is not its own country; it’s like saying that Canada is part of the United States and we’re all Americans. One of the first things that Catherine’s father, David, said to me upon arrival was "I hope you know that Wales is its own country...", or something of that nature. I laughed at this because Catherine had just spent 10 minutes explaining it to me on the drive over. Basically, we all believe that Scotland is its own country, well Wales is governed in the exact same way; Northern Ireland, as well. Did you know that a Scottish person and a Northern Irish person can both be correctly identified as British? Did you also know that the queen rules England, but Charles "rules" Wales (hence, the "Prince of Wales") and when Charles takes over the kingdom, William will then begin his reign as the "Prince of Wales"?"

"I’ll be taking the train to Cardiff tomorrow morning on my own; which I’m really looking forward to. Cardiff is the capital of Wales and is apparently home to a lot of really beautiful buildings."

…to be continued…