Kelvin was remarking last night that he is watching from the side all of the fun I am having planning for the next trip to London. I was too tired last night to have a conversation about that, for my life wasn’t looking like that much fun to me. My overwhelming objective at 11:30 pm was to drop myself in bed. There wasn't much else on my mind.
This morning when I woke, I could feel myself laughing. Yes. I am having fun and I don’t even know it. In the first instance, yesterday Laynie called to say she was buying pounds and euros and could get a better price if she bought more. She was calling her parents, her brother, everyone she knew who was going to London so that she could get the best exchange for all of our money – so her questions was, did she want me to have her pick some pounds and euros for my trip next month. I was doing some fancy bank work to get the money out of one account and into another for her to take some to the bank, and didn’t know that it looked like fun.
In the middle of the day, when I was eating my lunch, I was at work studying Rick Steven’s Great Britain 2007 and Day Trips Out of London. I am not just studying them – I am taking notes: which of the 25 places listed are more than 2 hours away, which cities offer free tours, which cities have castles that are medieval jewels and city walls that are still standing.
Last night I slipped over to Wyona’s where she was signing up for the Britrail pass for us. Three day-trips to Edinburgh will pay for the 15 days of first class travel. Now that is a deal. She was also printing off beautiful maps of Wales with the names of cities and towns I haven’t heard of before and with names I can’t pronounce when I read them.
Having a restless night, I opened my eyes, turned on the light and picked up the travel book again. I am reading the right book to maximize my pleasure. Last night I read about Blackpool Tower, “kids love this place. With a little marijuana, adults would too.” I will pass on Blackpool Tower. My medication of choice is Tylenol 3.
Another of the lines that stuck with me into the early morning reading hours was about the Trefiw Woolen Mills and its pleasant coffee shop. "The grade-school next door is rambunctious with Welsh-speaking children -- fun to listen to at recess." How fun is that kind of reading.
Kelvin is right. Half of the fun occurs long before getting on the plane to go to London.
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