Tenby & Cardiff

I was very excited to venture over to Wales and put my beloved coastline on display. I am consistently delighted by any news, thoughts, or photos that I come across that make me think of the Pembrokeshire Coast. I brag about it’s beauty and bright colors and perfect summer weather. I insisted a venture out this way would be worth our while and after excessive research (and telling us about all the research) Mom decided on a little town called Tenby. We took a train west from London and arrived in Tenby to a delightful, grey drizzle and a whipping, chilly wind. I worried everyone would regret the lengthy voyage and wish we had gone straight for Cardiff. I worried someone would get sick and I really really worried that Ellen would turn on us. 

Ellen Union don’t do no rain.

But all this worry was for naught and the little American tourists wrapped up in rain jackets and slogged through mud and puddles to venture around the colorful town. While we were here we had a delicious dinner, danced jigs on a mountain top, befriended the hotel’s cat, ate breakfast with a large geriatric tour group, battled a complex European plumbing system, did a little shopping, noticed lots of pretty flowers, and laughed so hard we crumpled down to the ground in public areas. It stayed grey in Tenby for our two day visit but I have only happy, bright memories. Ellen maintained her composure and fought the rain with us, becoming a little testy only once during the Old Folks Breakfast.

We then backtracked to Cardiff, the city I was most excited to revisit. I just really love that place. I was happy to lead my family around the little city and know where the train stops were and how to buy the tickets. I liked feeling like a pro of a foreign city – which is really quite preposterous. Had something gone even slightly wrong I’d have hidden behind Mom’s leg. 

Ne’ertheless, Mom and Ellen had never been to Cardiff before so I got to impress them with my Welsh wherewithal. We arrived in Cardiff the night of a Justin Beiber concert so the city was rampant with young people who have questionable taste in music and decision making skills. (That was mean. I’m not a Bieber person but I must acknowledge countless readings that say he his actually a talented musician.) The day after the concert, all the young people in the city were wandering around in Beiber paraphernalia which very much clashed with my tasteful memories of Cardiff. 

Here, in the city I was most excited to show off, the girls stuck to one particular street - Queen Street, the pedestrian-only shopping arena with countless stores and restaurants. In the beginning I thought to object this blasphemy. You can’t come all the way here just to go in new stores. There’s so much more to the city. There are beautiful parks and cozy old pubs and… and… and suddenly I didn’t really know what there was to do in Cardiff. I didn’t doubt that I love it but I had to think about how I had passed my time here.

At some point during the Contiki venture I realized that going new places is a relatively unexciting prospect. Now stay with me here. We'll go all the way there and then there we will be. What happens next? Well, if you’re in an adrenaline pumping situation, say a mountaintop or floating above a dense barrier reef, well by all means, you delve into it, but what if you’re in an average city? The only differences are the layout and the wacky foods. Somewhere near stop number five on this trip I re-realized that your life routine doesn’t change all that much no matter where you go. I still woke up and needed to feed myself. I had a few hours to kill and then I needed to feed myself again. A few hours here, maybe a nap, and again – feed myself. Then I get tired and sleep. New places really just make this effort more difficult because you don’t know where things are and you’ve got no refrigerator.

I thought of the two things I’ve learned in my twenties. (I’ve learned more than two things, I think.)

1) Life is life no matter where you live it.

2) Home is where your people are.

I thought about Cardiff and Charleston- a place I love and a place I live. I realized I love Cardiff for being beautiful and peaceful but mostly for the memories I have there - being with friends and all that. I love Charleston for the same reasons but also, my family is there. If I brought someone to Charleston, I would take them to King Street, walk them through a park, take them to a popular restaurant, and then I would bring them home. I’d cook for them or take them out to the dock, let them play with Buddy, maybe venture to the farm I use to work for - stuff like that. You don’t really get that stuff as a tourist and that’s the meaty stuff. The Home stuff. I realized I couldn't take my little group to the apartments I stayed in or the lounges where I hung out with science nerds, so I kept my mouth shut and let them shop for two days. I don't suppose Cardiff will be more than a cute, Welsh city to them, but to me, it's a place that felt just a little bit like home.

Around this time, suitcases began to bulge and there was a redistribution of belongings among members of our caravan. We all took turns making room for Baby Bliss – Carolyn’s travel size flat iron and a large calendar Mom bought by mistake. We had lots of desert while we were in Cardiff and we celebrated my birthday with a heavy meal and a decadent treat referred to as “The Chocolate Bomb”. Our last day was spent purchasing candy in an effort to use up coins that we couldn’t exchange. Mom bought chocolates, Gigs bought M&Ms, and I bought gummy fruits. Ellen threw her leftover change at us and boarded a train to London to fly home. We said our farewells to Ellen who was quite tickled that it was all over. We could feel the clouds of Ellen’s mood starting to shift so we reckon this was good timing. 

With heavy luggage and fistfuls of candy, Mom, Gigs, and I set out for our last country.