Day Four in Cardiff

My two-week backpacking excursion is over, I am settled into my beautiful, cozy apartment in Cardiff Bay and I am sitting at someone else's desk in a Plaid Cymru office in the Assembly.

Plaid held a party conference this weekend and most support staff and party members are taking a bit of a break today, so I will have very little idea of what I'm doing here until tomorrow. Until then, I have been showered with party booklets, Welsh magazines and research suggestions.

Every person I have met here has been so pleasant; I wish Americans had a bit of whatever these folks are having! It's smiles all around, and everyone is eager to help in any way they can.

After learning some rather expensive lessons about travel and food in Marseilles and Barcelona, it is quite a relief to be in a place where living is relatively cheap. A quick two-mile walk leads to Asda, owned by Walmart, or a local market. Restaurant food, when outside Mermaid Quay is not horribly expensive, and there are so many pubs that the prices are competitive.

I tried the local beer, Brains, which tastes slightly more watery than the sort of beer to which I'm accustomed back at home- beers such as Magic Hat and whatnot. Still, the locals seem to love the stuff and its wonderfully Welsh symbol of a red dragon is proudly displayed in most of the pubs around here.

A less fortunate experience was the Welsh cider Gold Medal. It was bitter, grimy, vaguely medicinal and needed a chaser to be palatable at all.

The local foods here, on the other hand, are quite a few steps up from most American foods. Take, for instance, Welsh cakes -flour-y, sugary, cakes with some type of dried fruit- and Cornish pasties -pronounced 'past- ies' instead of 'paste- ies.' The cheese also is mouthwateringly delicious, and is mostly locally produced. Many foods here are locally produced, it seems, without the horrendous preservatives and chemicals that infest American supermarkets.

My roommate frowned when she saw the tiny yellow apples in the store, commenting on how odd they seemed to her.

I am pleased to say that Plaid continues to push for local agriculture.

Aside from enjoying my political party, the food and some of the drinks, I already have grown quite fond of the Welsh lads. They tend to be rather flirtatious, but in a kinder manner than American flirts- they also are more forward. Welsh lasses dress more skimp-ily than sorority chicks at Halloween in Athens, even though the temperatures here are rather icy.

Even though I brought a wardrobe with dressing up options, I feel unprepared for the styles here. I am not used to dressing up daily, nor am I comfortable showing as much skin -even in the dead heat of a southern Ohio summer- as these ladies do in this cold.

It's also an adjustment reading everything in both English and Welsh, and my make-shift office mates all answer the phones in Welsh. Hopefully I shall be able to pick up more Welsh than the simple 'bore da.'

Since it is almost time for me to head back to my bright yellow apartment, or flat, dodging the gigantic slugs that litter the landscape around here, I shall end this little post.