The world is full of horror. Just look at the news on any given day. What is sadly, and I think hugely, under represented however is the massive amount of good that is also going on.
I have been in England only 4 days. Not even four full days. Yet I have already witnessed acts of kindness worthy of a place on Channel One news and met dozens of people who I would happily let into my home (If I had one. Ha-ha) or be honored to call a friend.
When I arrived in the Liverpool airport on the 15th, I was scared penniless of the pound. I planned to hitch to Manchester to met Vic and so I began to approach people to see where they were headed. Sadly none were heading my way and all actually suggested it to be a dangerous idea to hitch in this region.
Young, male, white and in my big puffy tough man down jacket I figured they were being overly cautious but I was new to the country and so figured I’d follow their advice for now and hitch later. So I forked out my 5 pounds for a bus to Manchester and set off wondering what the real English, not just the ones I’d met traveling, were going to be like.
I arrived at Shudehill station and sat down to await Vicky’s arrival. The time was around 5pm and I’d been led to believe she mightn’t make it till just after 7pm. No problem. The life of a backpacker makes for few problems and even less hurry.
(There’s a smokin girl sitting opposite me as I write this on the ferry to Pierre’s. England has quite a few I think)
On went the ipod and I settled down to some G’n’R to pass the time. Watching my breath make small pools of warm air in front of me, I tried to mimic Gandalf and create a ship of smoke passing through a ring. Sadly the best I could manage was a small row boat with two passengers passing under a bridge.
After5 minutes or so, a bus conductor approached, obviously impressed by my smoke blowing skillz. But playing it cool, he instead asked if I was waiting for the bus to the airport. I explained I’d just been dropped off and was waiting on a friend to come get me.
When he came back at half the hour and spotted me still waiting, he laughed as I told him my friend wouldn’t arrive until after seven. Then at seven he was back. And again at 7:30pm. Asking if all was right, I told him how I hadn’t a cell phone, any pounds and that my credit card wasn’t being accepted by the card phone. I also didn’t want to go get some change in case Vic came and went while I was gone. So I was just waiting it out.
But being awesome, he offered me his cell to call Vic. No money in return, no nothing. Just being nice – and I did offer. So I call her up and all good. After deciding I would probably lose my way trying to find her, she came and picked me up from where I was, we grabbed a pint and then headed back to her place.
And speaking English is like a breath of fresh air after the past few months of sucking in foreign fumes (o:
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