Monday, 28 July 2014

The weekend I almost made it to Cardiff

It was all planned. Friends organised, bags packed, tickets bought, lift to the train station sorted. I was going to Cardiff for the weekend to visit a friend and shop and eat and kayak and doallthethings!

I started to feel ill in the car. I knew it wasn't travel sickness, the sickness was coming on too fast. I took a pill and hoped it would kick in and it would all be okay. It wasn't. By the time I was dropped off at the train station, you know, not the one near my house but the one 20 minutes away, I felt like I was just holding on.

I wanted to go. I haven't seen Sophie in months and we had so much planned. I called my mum and she made me tell her everything I'd eaten that morning. You know that moment when you start saying something like "well I ate this melon that had been in my hot car for a day, it tasted weird but I didn't want to waste it" that you've found your culprit.

My mum rescued me from the station and I spent the rest of the day in bed. Sunday wasn't much better.

The girls had a great time in Cardiff together. They shopped, got free buritos and went kayaking in the sun.

Weekend, you were pants and I don't want a repeat of you.