I'm in Cardiff. My hotel has Internet access, so I get to blog while an old man reads some magazine called 'Ladies First.'
I had my radio interview today, which was a hoot. I spoke with Hywel and Nia (can't be arsed to link to their site -- look it up on the Radio Cymru site) for a good half hour. Odds are, they will splice it down to two minutes. Ah well. If you are interested, I think the interview runs tomorrow morning. In an ideal world, I would be able to switch it on right in the middle of Very Important Things and Very Important People would be mightily impressed. I'll let you know how that goes.
I got yelled at by the woman at hotel reception for taking my room key along with me. Apparently I'm not supposed to do this. Who knew?
Apparently one can purchase a 4-bedroom seaside villa in Turkey for £32,500. That's what it says on the little advert sitting on this desk. Why this hotel in Cardiff has an advert for Turkish villas, and why you would want to live in Turkey, I do not know. Do you suppose there has been just one person to look at that advert and think: 'Ooh, yeah. Turkish villa. That's for me.' I suppose in that case, the advert was worth it.
For those of you wondering, I never set foot in the Texas Embassy back in London. Jenny and Chris and I got there and it looked packed. From the outside, it appeared to be some sort of Chevy's knockoff. Traveling all that way to eat at a Chevy's, let alone a place that isn't really Chevy's seemed a bit silly, so we had Thai food instead.
If anyone plans on corresponding with Arriva trains anytime soon, do me a favor and tell them to add a few fucking cars to their Sunday services. I stood all the way from Ludlow to Cardiff. Actually, it wasn't so bad -- a very attractive, large-breasted woman spent the trip from Abergavenny to Cardiff pressed up against me.