It's time for a story. I have many, but I think I'll share a pair from April 22nd first. Gareth and I were given a lift into Cardiff by his mum and her boyfriend (which was very kind of them as they were heading elsewhere to a wedding). We stayed that night in the city centre Travel Lodge, which was a hole-in-the-wall hotel (there are a lot of them in the UK, it seems) making use of a building already in existence. This was a good idea on his part, booking us in, because we attended his brother's hockey game which wasn't until 10pm that night.

We went for dinner to a really delicious Indo-Malay restaurant called, if I remember correctly, Bali. The food was excellent and the portions generous but not ridiculously so. I didn't drink any alcohol, as I'd done my fair share the night before, instead having a yummy lychee nut drink. The service was really good. The waiters were attentive if perhaps a bit too eager to please. When Gareth got up to use the washroom at the end of the meal, I looked toward the bar and three or four of the waiters were standing at it looking straight at me. Then, seconds later, one arrived to clear dishes and proceded to ask me where I was from, etc. I thought to myself, "Is he hitting on me, or is he just being really nice?"

As he went away, the head waiter appeared, smiling and asking if our meal had been satisfactory. I got the feeling there was more to the smile than just common curtesy. I was right. "Can I buy you a drink?" he asked. "I would be very happy to buy you a drink at the bar," he said, gesturing to the bar where at least one other waiter was watching. "And maybe I could take you out?" I think I managed to look more flattered than shocked, but I'm not sure. Regardless, my answer was simple, "Thank you for your offer, but I really don't think my date would appreciate that." When Gareth returned, I couldn't resist telling him and when I went to the loo, the waiters came to him and were very nice. I told him that he should be flattered that his girl got hit on.

Later, we went to see the hockey game. Played by the university B team, let me tell you, this has got to be the worst game I've ever seen. Now, to be fair, the Welsh are not known for their hockey prowess. Leeks, sheep, choirs, and dragons, yes; hockey, no. But, what this team lacked in skill they made up in enthusiasm and fun. Even the guys working the sound booth (a pair of players from the university A team) were funny and enthusiastic (even offering stick handling advice in the intermissions). They picked some really appropriate tunes to highlight the insanity of the match, and I kid you not, they had the goalie up and dancing more often than he was stopping pucks, that's for sure. At any rate, it was no surprise that the Belfast team creamed them (12-2).

Following the game, one of the players called up to Gareth: "Sorry, Richard's brother !" in an appology for the worst game ever. Then, while decompressing afterward, they were mucking about on the ice and I managed to get hit in the knee with a puck that was aimed at the boards ! My response was, "Oh, fuck you !" which brought the player up into the stands appologising profusely. I told him that as pennance, I would keep the puck and go back to Canada and tell everyone how badly the Welsh play hockey. He agreed it was a fair trade. Anyway, it was a ton of fun, regardless of the bruise.

In other news, unrelated to my trip, I now possess the keys to my apartment and will soon be moving into it ! My mother has sent the first batch of my stuff up via Greyhound and it should arrive sometime late this week or early next. I am pretty excited to be getting a place of my own, and then I will get some furniture for it... and a cat. :) Yay !