It's been a while, huh? Well, let me tell you that I have been wanting to write very much but found myself surrounded by the dangerous enemy: homework. At last, I have been defeated by it, so there is no point on me trying to catch up because I never will--so why not do this and watch Sochi instead?
Anyway, I was really pumped about writing... yesterday. Today..eeh.. not so much.
But let me tell you: I went to Manchester on Sunday. And *drumroll*..... here's a list!
1. We paid around $15 for the bus ticket, which was a very good price, and about half as much as what the train cost. Well, here's the thing about the bus: it was not latina-hip friendly. I had to sit next to a guy who took his own seat and half of mine, so you can understand my sudden mood change from jolly-good to on-the-verge-of-killing. When half of your butt is sitting in thin air, you don't feel so great. And the bus was so stuffed... like a ground-beef enchilada. And it was hot in there, so of course I got SUPER SICK. Motion sickness puts me in a terrible mood, so in other words I was practically having an Amanda Bynes melt-down.
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| Fortunately for her (but unluckily for me) there are no GIFs of her actual meltdown. Just very scary photos. |
2. Get this: we stopped to have a pee break at a gas station/convenience store type of place... FOR FORTY MINUTES. That gave you enough time to fill up your empty bladder and empty it! Why, WHY? It was absurd. I mean, Manchester is already far enough as it is.. and add 40 minutes to the trip--what's the point?
3. We were only in Manchester for 4 hours. That means we were in the bus longer than in the actual city. (Yeah yeah, you live you learn. Tell that to an angry tourist). So you know what this means? I get on BEAST MODE. Resolved to see as much as humanly possible (and glad I am wearing my walking boots), I get ready to start power walking and snapping pictures like a Japanese tourist in Cancun.
4. But pray tell, what is the first thing the men want to do when arriving to Manchester? Why, eat, of course! They went on a long ass trip to a restaurant, basically. My flat mates took 1.5 hours to eat at an Indian buffet place, then proceeded to head to Starbucks for a good 30 minutes). Luckily for me, I didn't wait around for them. I had packed my lunch (which I ate sitting out there... in the street, like a good hobo. By the way, my sandwich tasted like newspaper because I wrapped it in cheap napkins) and I just went for the Manchester tourist experience--alone.
5. Then I magically stumbled upon the National Football Museum and suddenly my life found its meaning again. It was magical. Take a look:
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| the First English team |
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| Newcastle United represent! |
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| Replica of the original (which I have seen in person, mind you) |
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| That's what I call a fashion statement. |
6. Then, these dudes decide to go shopping. To a store that we have in Durham. And by the time they met up with me, it was too late for us to go to Old Trafford, the Manchester United stadium (and basically the main reason why I came on this trip). You can imagine my reaction:
Alas, this only means that I have to return to Manchester some time. Next time, however, I will plan to get myself into a Man U game. To meet Chicharito. So he can fall in love with me.
My pick up line: Hi, I'm from your hometown! Pick me up at 7.
Well, here are some more pics:
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| My souvenir from the National Football Museum |
7. I was not allowed by these jerks to stop at a souvenir store. Yet we stopped for a snack for one of them before going back to the bus. Then we finally got on the bus and I got to sit on the unbearably narrow window seat. It was so bad I even got mad at the kids-- and you know I'm great with kids, but so I must have been pretty irritated, because these kids were terribly annoying.
But hey, you know what? YOLO. I got to see all of the city centre. I walked around for 8 miles, so, good day overall.
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