2004-06-14

I'm afraid I'm having a bit of a crap time in Dublin. It isn't Dublin's fault, I don't think -- I'm just tired, and cranky, and everyone I've met has been completely rude and totally incomprehensible. It took me three tries before I understood that the cashier at the supermarket (where I was attempting to purchase A SINGLE BANANA) was telling me that I had to weigh the produce myself before I could buy it; by which point I was so annoyed and frustrated I said, 'Screw it' and walked out of the store. Argh!

I've been in a pissy mood ever since Saturday: I blame my SIX-HOUR stopover in Holyhead. I had to wait six stupid hours because the stupid ferry only stupid sails only twice a stupid day. Stupid! The wait did afford me a few interesting insights into the Welsh character, though. For instance, I've learned that the Welsh equivalent to 'How are you?' or 'May I help you?' is 'You alright?', or more precisely, with the accent, 'Y'arrrrraaaaii'?' I spent my afternoon all confused and paranoid -- why was everyone constantly asking me if I was alright? Did I look sick? Was my hair that bad? (Yes. Yes it was.)

The train ride through Wales was brilliant. I didn't think any real place could be so hyperbolically idyllic: I half suspected that the landscape was a painted cardboard set propped up along the train tracks for the benefit of tourists. I mean, come on -- twee little lambs munching contentedly on verdant pastures at the foot of rolling hills capped by crumbling medieval fortresses?? Come off it, Wales. Bloody showoff of a country.