Goodbye, Scotland... Hello, Wales!

Today was a relatively short day, as I did little but travel from Edinburgh to Cardiff. A day on the train, it was peaceful and quiet. However, another event dominated my day- the heavy cold I came down with. Not a surprise, really- I was drinking whiskey in an environment that tests the mettle of the immune system. Plus, I’ve smoked more tobacco in the last 4 days than I ever have. (Before you go off the deep end, NO, I don’t smoke- but everyone here does, so I get the secondhand.)
The United Kingdom just made smoking indoors illegal, and the end result is a great number of pissed off people. See, everyone knows smoking’s bad for you, and they have campaigns where they place big labels on the cigarette packs that say, in bold letters, “Smoking will kill you,” or “Smoking is unhealthy to you and those around you.” But the British don’t care. I dare say it’s worse now, because people have to smoke outside, it’s far more noticeable how many people do so. And Britain is not California. Throw in that the Scottish grew tobacco in the lowlands (!!) during the war to save money for the military… they just don’t see a problem with it.
Anyway, the trip was fine and it was sunny the entire length. The train line came within half a mile of the North Sea at some point, and that was nice to see. Otherwise, rolling hills, stone walls separating farms (probably commissioned to be built by Lord Brickinghamstershire for his eighth 20-room cottage on the River Trickle in 1452), and the occasional city. Most of the cities that we passed here, were quite modernized, with new highrises, newly paved streets, and other civic amenities. Only one stood out as a slum, and that was Sheffield. Wow. That’s a hard, hard town. You can see the reason there’s a lot of British anger that comes from the Midlands if you see places like that. The closest comparison that I can think of is southwestern Philly, the part you see along I-95. The part where you see it and you think “It’s a good thing I’m driving 65 miles an hour through here.”
I changed trains in Bristol, which was quite easy, and I was in Cardiff at 5:30. It’s a small town, but pretty, and it has two loves that are quite easy to figure- rugby and beer. It’s not an exaggeration to say this is a rugby town. In fact, to ask anyone about their local football team will usually get a comment of “oh them, why bother, they’re not that good.” But I checked in, and got settled.
That’s when the fever hit.
I tried to wait out the fever, I hoped that I could break it in time for dinner, and I did. So I went for dinner and had the tomato soup and the turkey. I drank an entire pitcher of water and an orange juice to boot, then went to sleep. The pharmacies close early (6 PM), so I had to wait until morning to get something. Fed and hydrated, I went to sleep.