Bench #2 Cardiff across the river from the millennium statium

Waking up with a hang-over is never fun. Especially if you are quickly reminded by your drinking buddies that you actually didn't have that much to drink. However, this is how I woke up in Cardiff in the NosDa Hostel across the river from the Millennium stadium.

As hostels go its not bad. I've stayed in my share of those during a back-packing trip through Europe and they can range from dodgy to extremely dodgy. However the NosDa wasn't really what I'd call dodgy, however any place where about 30 guys share 2 toilets and 3 showers isn't really luxury living. I have to admit they did a fairly good job at keeping the bathrooms decent. The rooms are also fine, you don't need more, except ear plugs since you will probably be sharing with a snorer, and you'd probably also need a good chiropractor if you want to stay there for any length of time, but then that can be said for most hostels.

I got up stumbled downstairs, waited in queue for a shower and toilet, and then headed down for some breakfast. I shouldn't have expected much, but its mainly fruit and cereal (again it is a hostel not a hotel), however the coffee could have done with being a bit stronger.

I looked around to see if I couldn't find anybody of our party sitting around but saw none inside. Since it was a nice day (yes, Wales do have those, I can confirm) I stepped outside and sat down on a bench with a view!

As structures go, Stadiums in general are a not bad. You always feel like a little ant next to the huge looming building. I find this more so with a stadium than a sky scraper, possibly because you can see the windows on each floor and can kinda judge yourself by that rather than the thing as a whole but with the stadium it just an object and a huge one at that, and all this helps to make you feel simultaneously part of something exiting and at the same time hugely insignificant.

I did eventually finish my cereal and go and watch the Wales VS South Africa game, which was amazing. The Welch really do like putting up a show! I almost felt sorry for the poor South African players running out to a fairly generous welcome from a huge portion of the UK dwelling South Africans. When the Welsh ran up it was turned into a spectacle that was fit for Olympic gods, with Huge pillars of fire spewing out around the field and thunder and mist effects in the doorway where the Welsh triumphantly walked out of. Shame they needed at least one victory that day (I'm a Saffa, am allowed to say that, hehe)

It didn't end there on in fact for the rest of the day as despite their poor luck on the field (to their defence they played a killer first half and was actually leading) they were singing (all of them!!) strange, fun, amazing sounding hymns that echoed though the stadium. This was continued in the pub back at the NosDa, and back on my bench, after the game as a couple of Welshman continued to serenade every woman that walked past the pub.

All in all it was a great weekend away and I would recommend Cardiff for a night out to anyone!

GO BOKKE!!!

Bench #1 Home

When I woke up this morning, I realized it was a fantastic day outside; the same way many people find out about a nice day in the 21st century - from my clock radio. It promised a lovely day of highs of 22 degrees and sunshine and as we live in the UK, these "days" come as a bit of a treat.

When I finally convinced myself that getting out of bed was inevitable, I waddled down the stairs to the kitchen to make my breakfast and my wife's coffee and pour my smoothie.

My usual ritual would be to then waddle over to the computer to see what exactly had changed in the world since 10 last night by scanning my friends facebook statuses.

However today was different! Today I actually put some decent trousers on before coming down stairs, because today was the day (after living here for 2 years) that I'm going to take advantage of the bench outside our flat.

I walked outside, took a deep breath of fresh air and gazed out over the slightly un-kept "garden" in-front of our flat and at my neighbours rather unattractive garage door. Being of course within 10 miles of London, hills are hard to come by, even in Strawbery Hill (Named after Strawberry hill house which is named after a Gothic villa of Horace), where our little flat is based.

Even though I got a beam of sunlight sneaking over the block of flats next door, past the large tree and filtered slighly through the "garden", one quarter of our bench actually was baking (I'm using this term in an entirely relative manner) in the sunlight. This was the section of the bench that I selected for my breakfast and I flopped down to start crunching away at my cereal.

As neighbourhoods go, I can't imagine a better one that Strawberry Hill. You do get the slightly panicked look of some people who miss their stops at the middle of the night when they read the name of the station they go off at. The name does rather make it sound like the night is going to end in a cage, in the little candy house down the street, being fattened up by the resident witch. But that is part of its charm.

For the most part, the only people who come into Strawberry Hill are the people who live here. The little triangle shaped area is wedged between the themes river with a nice park and Twickenham Green on the other side, complete with a little cricket club which makes for a pleasant atmosphere on the days when the weather is nice enough to sit outside in the park. Its also got a nice (if slightly posh) restaurant, called Arthur's on the Green, where you can get a cup of coffee, or a valentines dinner.

It worth a walk around if you don't live here. If for nothing else as to be amazed at the stunning houses and for those who like golf the Strawberry Hill golf course, and as I recall there is a nice bench there to. Will tell you all about it in my next post, right now I need to get off my lazy bum and go and join the rat race! Ciao