I know that I had planned a walking trip - and maybe that's still going to happen. But for now I spend a week in British trains, trying to cover as much ground as possible. I hope this will help to get a greater picture of the Isles and at the same time keep the emotional turmoil at bay. Bangor is officially over and the next weeks here only the transition before I have to head back to my other life.
This will be my travel journal as usual. Sometimes updated in real time, but I foresee that this will not always be the case. Let's start:
Today the weather outside pretty much matches the weather inside.
I got up at 5 today while outside stormy grey skies sang about apocalyptic battles and approaching last times. When Vera and I got onto the train the sun broke through and at least the sky left of the train was blue. After I changed in Crewe I tried to catch some sleep on the train and awoke to a brillant blue hanging above Newport, only to arrive in Cardiff with a heavy shower. When I met Laura for a coffee a few minutes later the sun was shining again and it wasn't 'til Laura left me that the rain returned. Since then it's been changing constantly between sun and rain.
And that's just how I feel. I am excited to be in Cardiff especially after I read so much literature that was written and/or set here in the last semester. But every now and then my chest tightens when it hits me that this semester is over, that it's time to go home soon. My heart is breaking a little bit every time I think about it. I've lost my heart, I found a home, I opened my eyes wider, I danced in the rain, walked up an down steep hills and found my own way between shortcuts and road maps.
I'm going to celebrate all the greatness I experienced in the next few days.
'cause for me it isn't over.
"In these stones horizons sing"
This is my mantra while I'm strolling through Cardiff. The tightness in my chest now feels more as if I'm making Carpaccio out of my heart - I feel like staying in my room for a week crying and listening to sad songs would be the right thing to do. And I am glad that I can't do that, so glad I have to keep moving, because it makes it a little easier to ignore the pain long enough to breathe.
So I went to Cardiff Bay to finally see Gwyneth Lewis's poem on the Millenium Centre with my own eyes. Her poetry still gets me even after going over it ad nauseam for my essay on her. I would like to get one of her books, so I can leaf through it on the train. I'll have to look out for a book store later.
I hope, I just so hope that today was the hardest day. I'm not sure I can take another one as intense as this one.