A Post From Across The Pond

ALERT THE MEDIA, JEN'S WRITTEN ANOTHER POST STOP WHAT YOU'RE DOING THIS IS NOT A DRILL. Yes. You can believe your eyes. Another post. It's only taken me three months. I've got plenty to update you on.

When last we spoke I was comfortably nestled in Kirkland, Washington enjoying a moderately busy life of markets and social escapades. Now, ladies and gents, I have been whisked over the pond and am currently sitting at the kitchen table of some cousins who are seizing the day by cycling around Europe. I'm looking after the new love of my life, Harry, who is their Jack Russel. But where am I, even? Church Stretton, the unknown Hyacinth of England. I'm situated right next to Wales so I've been exposed to the accent quite a bit and if I had do describe it I would say that it sounds a bit like somebody is desperate to say something important but they're also gargling listerine. And don't get me started on the language. While I was making my way to this part of the country I encounted various signs written in Welsh while on some trains and busses. Honestly it looks like somebody just smashed the keyboard with their face and then thought "Right... that'll do."

Instead of trying to describe everything in detail here are some pics, to help set the scene a bit:

 So this is the obligatory "here's a picture of my feet resting on my bags what a cool traveller I am wow" pic. Although to be fair I am proud of those bags. I managed to fit the equivalent of a storage container's worth of stuff in them. Unfortunately I did have to give away a couple of bags of things including my vans! (The shoes, not the car.) They were looking pretty awful but it was still a bit heart-wrenching. 

 This was my first glimpse of England outside of the airport! Old brick houses that really look like they could be 4 Privet Drive. I was so excited. The other people in the bus must have thought I was a bit loony though.

 This is my ticket from Reading Station (read: redding... I know :/ ) to Church Stretton. Honestly at this point I wasn't entirely sure whether or not I was going the right way/on the right train/getting off at the right stations etc so I was sending this pic to my Uncle and host with the caption: what do I do (to paraphrase). I know - not very helpful - but I was exhausted and didn't really feel like being stranded in an unknown town somewhere in England with 3 massive suitcases and not a lot of money.   Note the bitten fingernail featured. 

 Cardiff Central Station! My first experience of The Welsh. I really liked this station - worries that I was in the wrong place aside. For a station that was rather busy it looks as if it should be situated next to a rainy little beach somewhere with a toothless old man selling tickets through the window. Thank goodness this wasn't the case though as I was in dire need of an information desk. 

 And this is my destination. This is the view from the top of a hill whilst taking Harry for a walk. It was a bit of trek, I won't lie, I was out of breath, guys. But it is so worth it. 

This is from a different walk but I like the pic a lot. Can you not picture a good-looking boy walking towards me out of the mist in a costume from the 1800s? (See Joe Wright's Pride and Prejudice, 2005, to get that reference.)

I'm not going to lie to you, I was scared of the sheep at first. Of course the family thought this was hilarious as though I had just mentioned that I was afraid of guinea pigs. They were just roaming around innocent picnickers, surely you can't blame me. You can just hear that sheep in the far back sniffing at that family's picnic like "Wha' 'ave you got there, mate? Ooh, salmon roses, don't mind if I do, love." 

This was taken on Wednesday night (12th of August - Grampa's birthday!) The Bennett's made me a birthday cake - I know, I'm a lucky girl. I also got sung to!

 And I got to blow out 19 candles! I'm sorry guys, disappointing news... no boyfriends. 

 This was taken on my actual birthday. I took myself out for lunch (a treat on me). What you're looking at there is a bowel of carrot and coriander soup and a glass of orange juice. I went with the expectation of getting myself a brownie or something but when I arrived I just thought... you know what sounds good right now... 

By the way Aunty Margs - you asked for a pic!

And the pic I took of Harry that I sent to the Bennetts to convince them that he is alive and kicking. 

 And this is me today. I made Jamie Oliver's lemon and rosemary grilled chicken with roasted tomatoes and it was good. My eyebrows look like they could feed a family of twelve on their own but surprisingly enough, they weren't part of the dish. 

If you're wondering where I am in relation to London or where is London in relation to Great Britain here is the screenshot I took which hopefully gives you a good idea. 

Leaving America and the Nelsons especially wasn't easy. I really hate goodbyes so instead of saving my money for financial security I'm afraid I'm going to be revisiting all the places I've been to this year. So, if you think you've seen the last of me, sorry but I'm coming back. Thanks Obama. 

I miss you all, as always - and suddenly this includes a whole host of Americans too. 

Jen x