The tourist fever took hold of Haley and me and firmly dragged us into the heart of Cardiff this afternoon. We’ve somehow managed to become train experts over the course of four days; we rode into the heart of the city and set off to wander around and see if we could find our way home.
We took a double-decker bus around the city, and honestly, it’s so much smaller than I expected — it’s beautiful and gorgeous and I’m never leaving, but it’s small enough that I think I’d be okay finding my way around after today, even with my dismal sense of direction. It looped around shops —-–– and Cardiff Bay —
The realization that I’m thousands of miles away comes in waves. Sometimes, I dearly miss my friends and family back home. I miss my dachshund Ralph, and my pool, and my teammates. But other times it’s hard to contain how overwhelmingly lucky I feel. Every person I’ve met has been friendly and lovely and polite. I hear twenty different languages a day and still see the same smiles every time I see a new face. I ran the mountains today and stopped for twenty minutes to talk to an old man with a German Shepard that only wanted to hear about how the Grand Canyon looks at sunset. All I could tell him was that I’d never seen it, but that it couldn’t be more beautiful than how the sun hits the hills as it goes down behind my campus.
I’m never coming home. Sorry Mom.