I had planned every detail of the trip to Wales now. I had booked a flight to Manchester from Hannover, booked train reservations from Manchester to Bangor, booked the youth hostel in Bangor, paid the conference fee for the Great Writing Conference at the university of Bangor, and booked the train ticket to London. The new friend from the DRUPA apparently fell sick and did not show me around Manchester after all. But the long bus trip and the short walk to the hostel whet my taste for a city, which I thought would be ugly and boring, but which, in fact, seems absolutely lovely and exciting! I was too tired to explore and went to bed early to catch my early train, but it really does look good... I did not take any pictures there, though, because it was dark, but the first one is out of the train window on my way to Wales. 
After missing my connection, I finally made it to Bangor, but discovered that I took an involuntary detour from half way to the hostel by finding the bus that dropped me off only a little further from where I deviated from my original path only to get lost hiking up the wrong side of the hill. After finding the right way by the house with the hound underneath the bay window I trudged uphill over gravel and stone to find a rather unfriendly hostel hostess.
Either way, I made it and then took off to find the castle. I found it all right, but could not get it without any cash on me. But instead of hiking back to the town, I ventured along the highway towards a mysterious ATM which neve
r materialized. I turned around when I realized that crossing the huge roundabout that lay after the bridge and the highway (neither of which had a sidewalk for pedestrians) was too dangerous. Thank goodness, there are Welsh out there that stop for lonely female hitch hikers to give them a ride only after insisting on securing the seat belt and gently warning you that hitch hiking is a dangerous sport... as if I did not know that, but hiking along the highway in search of non-existing ATMs is even more dangerous.
After missing my connection, I finally made it to Bangor, but discovered that I took an involuntary detour from half way to the hostel by finding the bus that dropped me off only a little further from where I deviated from my original path only to get lost hiking up the wrong side of the hill. After finding the right way by the house with the hound underneath the bay window I trudged uphill over gravel and stone to find a rather unfriendly hostel hostess.
Either way, I made it and then took off to find the castle. I found it all right, but could not get it without any cash on me. But instead of hiking back to the town, I ventured along the highway towards a mysterious ATM which neve
r materialized. I turned around when I realized that crossing the huge roundabout that lay after the bridge and the highway (neither of which had a sidewalk for pedestrians) was too dangerous. Thank goodness, there are Welsh out there that stop for lonely female hitch hikers to give them a ride only after insisting on securing the seat belt and gently warning you that hitch hiking is a dangerous sport... as if I did not know that, but hiking along the highway in search of non-existing ATMs is even more dangerous.Well, I never made it back to the castle, but instead took care of replacing my forgotten
UK sim card so I could call Phil and secure a place to stay in London. The conference went well, although I only got to go for one day. Bangor is lovely, however, and you meet interesting people on the train to London. There, I stayed with my friend phil for a couple of days until we both moved into the dorms on campus in Uxbridge to be close to the Literary London Conference. I presented my paper, dressed as Sweeney Todd of course, successfully and had the chance to join the revels in the local pub without worrying about missed trains back to London at night. It was great!
In London, I followed in the steps of Sweeney Todd and explored Fleet Street, and finally went to tour Kensington Palace, which I missed out on last year, and had tea and scones at the Orangerie. Exquisite, I must say! I splurged, but it was worth it! I flew back to Cologne on Saturday, but not without attempting for a third time to see the Globe! After all, I was going to take a Shakespeare class this fall and wanted to be prepared. So I actually made it during opening hours, lugged my green rolling duffle bag behind me up and down the galleries and stairs, but got to see
it on my way to the airport! Thanks, mom, for the rolling bag! It helped a lot.Back in Cologne, I called people to say good-bye, pack, and take leave from Germany until another year from now. Hopefully, with as much fun and adventure and less worries about return flights...Thank you all for hosting me!
