OH MY GOD!!! okay, I'm better now. After arriving at Stratford, I began to walk to my destination, YHA hostel, Youth Hostel Association. It was, of course, raining and surprise! surprise! It was extremely windy! Now supplied with two jackets, I wore the one without the hood AND wasn't waterproof before I got off the train, my bag was about 10lbs heavier and now feeling like a constant reminder that I can't run, only slightly walk faster, and therefore forced to walk in the hurricane. While walking I heard "BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP!!" screaming up behind me! I jumped back into the fence only to watch a 6 year old boy ride by on his bike. I wanted to rip him off his bike and put my pack on his back while I rode down the side walk (yes, I could have fit on his tricycle). Instead of being charged with child abuse, I just laughed it off and told him "Holy Buckets!! You scared the potatoes out of me!!" Well, he just thought that was the funniest thing he had ever heard in his short little life! I began to walk past him, his mother yelled at him to wait, and started back on my trail. "BEEP!! BEEP!! BEEP!! BEEP!!!" screamed the little boy as he barreled past me. This time I didn't jump so high but, I did let out a funny little squeal as I moved out of his path. We played this "fun" little game, can you sense my sarcasm, for about another 5 minutes until we parted ways.
While waiting to cross the street to enter the actual town-like setting of Stratford, I saw three teens waiting on the other block. They were staring at me like I had a giant sign saying "I HATE THE DIRTY DIRTY FRICKIN BRITS!!" As I walked past, choosing to play frogger instead of waiting another 5 minutes, I saw that they were mentally handicapped and they all gave me high-fives and thumbs-ups (they reminded me of friends back home, just kidding!)!
The town was this quaint little cobble-stoned city with festive tents lined up on the sidewalks, a fair of some sort. I wanted to stop and enjoy the city but, I wanted this pack off me and decided to find my hostel first then to come back out and explore until everything closed down for the night. This is where I encountered what the locals called a "round-a-bout" or what flat landers in Jersey call it "Jug handles." Thankfully, there are signs with maps of the city on them all around the cities. However, they only help if you know how to navigate yourself around "round-a-bouts" and understand what the road signs mean. In my case, I had no freakin' idea what the map was telling me...apparently because I got pretty lost. I made a left and started walking, aren't you proud of me pop?! As I walked down what I thought was the correct road, I saw a big beautiful stone wall to the left of me. It looked like it was once meant to protect a courtyard located around a castle. As I kept walking, I noticed what this gorgeous piece of history was now protecting... the hospital parking lot. Well, THANK GOD!! The damn mini cars were safe from cannons and the viking enemies that threatened to storm the lot, stealing hub caps and air freshners!!! I walked another 4 blocks and saw what looked like a development to the right of me. I looked over to see the types of cottages that were built in this city and instead I saw a castle! It was still a castle and not a Starbucks or McDonald's! YAY! I was so excited, I started walking towards the gigantic structure to get a closer look. I decided "Okay, I need to find this hostel and then figure out how to get inside this place!" So, I stopped for directions. I asked this elderly couple if I was on a certain street, obviously, and their response was funny, now but at the time so disheartening. "Oh Bloody Hell No, Child!!! You are way off your course!! What map are you looking at? Where are you from?!?" So, I responded with the appropriate answers to which they said "Oh, well that it explains EVERYTHING, ya dear girl. Here, this is what you need to do..." and gave me directions to get back to the main road.
It turns out, the left I made (DAD!?!?!) was wrong. I was suppose to walk AROUND the "round-a-bout" to make the appropriate "left." Okay, I am not an idiot! I know that going straight is not making a left but, WHATEVER!?!
I continue walking. Now, some may be thinking "Okay Kate, this is dragging on. Just cut to the good stuff." Well, to those of you thinking that I say "SHUTTY!! IT's not YOUR blog!" Just kidding. I am talking about my ridiculous journey to my hostel because it's the most excitement I had there.
I continue:
Did you know that Stratford-upon-Avon has an Iron "Person" race? Well, they do! They run, do something else (I don't know because I didn't see), and bike. I know this because apparently, I walked right in the middle of the race!!! YEAH! I was in the Iron "Person" race!! Backpack and all! I didn't win though...some guy with no pack and on a really nice bike won. ONWARD!
2 hours later and 2 towns later...
I finally arrive at my YHA hostel. Now if you have been following my blogs, you would know that I hate the YHA for this very reason: It is away from EVERYTHING! In this case, it was 2 towns away!!! I don't recall seeing that on their website. Not even when I had them mapquest directions for me. I walked about 8 miles from train station to bunkbed. The place was beautiful! It had it's own bar and restaurant (it had to... there was NOTHING else around. I mean buses didn't even go that far!) After settling in and laying down to rest after my 4 year trek! I found some motivation to walk BACK to Stratford to see where Shakespear was born and raised as well as the other attractions that were constructed in his honor. As I was walking back, an idea popped into my head "I should get some pounds because I know the City Sightseeing Tour do not take cards." So, I stopped at a quickshop on Tiddington (a 4 house town). While standing at the cash machine, it started to mist. It felt like being at the Jersey shore on a cloudy and breezy day. I almost I forgot where I was until I was bitch slapped back into reality when the machine ATE MY CARD! I know I put in the right pin.... I know I talked to my bank before I left (Gretchen is the coolest), so why the HELL did this "Cash Machine" just eat my debit card?? I went inside to ask the cashier if they could either give me back my card or call the company for me. Thankfully, a woman named Susan pulled me aside when she noticed that my eyes were welling up with tears. After I told her my story, she said I could use their store phone. I called the company and talked to some guy, I don't remember his name... it was probably something like "Joe Britian," anyway, who cares?! He's a poop face! After retelling the story AGAIN, he told me to call my back because under NO circumstance could he get my card back for me. I started to cry on the phone as I said "This is my only card, my only means of money! What am I suppose to do? Please?! I'm by myself and have no money with me!" Well, Sir Poopface of Tiddington told me "I don't know, call your bank." Well, that is a splendid idea except for the fact that I was in the United Kingdom, they are in the United States, I have no more minutes left on my U.K. sim card, England is 5hrs ahead of Pennsylvania, and oh yeah! It was SUNDAY! I started to Panic!
Susan took the phone from me, hung up on the guy and called someone else. She put me back on the phone and told me to tell them what my bank was called. So, I talked to a woman named Christine, yeah I remember their names because they worked so diligently to get my card back. Christine called ESSA and Wells Fargo for me but, no luck.
I walked back to YHA crying, telling myself everything would be okay, and chain smoking english cigarettes. Soaking wet, distraught, red face, puffy eyes, breathing heavy from panic attack, shaking and head down like Charley Brown when he gets upset, I walked through the foyer of my hostel to the stairs that led up to my floor. Steve, the hostel manager, stopped me with a hello and "I can book that hostel for you to Cardiff, Wales if you like." To which I turned, picked up my head, wiped my face with my navy blue rain coat (from walmart, best coat EVER) and said "No go, Steve." and started to cry.
Steve then decided to he would be a friend and asked me what was wrong. So for the 5th time in about 2 hours, I repeated my story not missing a single detail. Then, he became my hero (Sorry, dad). He let me use the phone to call the U.S. I called my dad's cell phone. Nothing. I called my mom's cell phone. Nothing. Then, her work phone. Nothing. The house. Nope. OH MY GOD!!! Why do you have cell phone's if you aren't going to ANSWER them! Don't they know I am 4,000 miles away!!!???! I tried calling George (darling). Noper... Hostel phone for some reason won't let me call EITHER of his cell phones.
SLAM! "What in the hell am I suppose to do? I can't email my sister or brother because the hostel charges 50 pence for 10 minutes and I need to keep all the money I have for transportation and food!" Then, a light bulb went off above my head. No not an actual light bulb, maintanence was not involved. It was like a Bugs Bunny cartoon where Daffy Duck gets the brilliant idea of changing the sign to "Rabbit Season." MOMOM!! "I'll call my momom! She should be home unless she went to church. Oh God! Please don't let her be at YOUR place of Worship! Let her be home to answer the phone." I dialed carefully knowing it was probably going to be my last phone call from the hostel phone.
As I held my breath listening to the rings, I heard the sweetest sound that calmed my heart, "Hello?" SHE'S HOME!!! OH MOMOM!!! I started crying immediately, wishing I was home hugging her. I calmed down enough to tell her what happened and asked her to keep calling mom and dad. To call Megan, my sister, or Eamon (my brother[in-law]). "Call Johnny if you have to!" Then, I gave her the 11+ numbers for the phone number including the Country code (44). It took us 10 MINUTES to say the same numbers! It's ok though. My momom came to the rescue. We hung up.
Now what? KHALA! When I was still in London, Megan and Eamon were emailing me and told me that Khala (meaning Aunt in Bengali) and Khalu (uncle) lived in London and to make sure I call them because they want me to visit and possibly dinner. "I wonder if they wouldn't mind me staying at their house for the last 3 days of my trip..."
I made ONE LAST CALL. Khala was so excited to hear from me she was talking so loud that even Steve looked up and started to smile. "Khala? Can I stay with you until I get some source of finances?" Khala responded "Where am I sending the money to? How much do you need? When can you get here? Here are numbers for Shah (Her 27yr son) and Khalu. You come stay with us until you leave!"
OH THANK YOU! I was finally able to relax! I had a plan... now I just had to get my dad on the phone to buy my ticket.
Every hour I went to the front desk and asked if there were any messages. Nope. I went back to the quickstop that stole my money and had 2.37 pounds to spend on dinner. I bought a yogurt (their dairy is AMAZING) and some raw rice. 2 pence is all I had left.
When I got back to the hostel, I went to the community kitchen to make my...oh so delicious dinner. Well, the rice did NOT cook correctly and I followed the directions. So, I stood in the kitchen sopping wet eating my yogurt and staring at someone's unfinished pizza on the stove. "It's been like 10hrs since I ate last... relax! You will eat tomorrow. You are NOT in Eithiopia... there is food in Stratford and in London. You WILL eat again," I thought to myself.
"What should I do with this? Do you guys want it or should I just throw it out," a college girl from Ohio said.
"Please don't throw that out," I muttered. She heard me. "Do you want the rest of our pizza? We aren't going to eat it. You can have it!" The girl answered back. To not sound like a crazy mooching stranger ready to eat someone's garbage, I told the 3 girls my story of losing all access to my doe. They felt bad for me. So yes, that night I had yogurt, over cooked rice, pizza, and mac 'n' cheese.
The rest of the day was pretty uneventful after that. I cleaned up, went back to my room, read my kindle, and fell asleep. Tommorow, I was going back to London.
