Bertha pulled a Jesus

I don’t know why, but last month I mocked my father’s technological advice.  And now I have to eat crow, because he was totally right.  Remember when I finally got to achieve a life-long dream and spend my birthday in Venice?  And then remember when the love of my life died because ‘she’ would only flash me error messages instead of actual light?  Well, I’ve replaced Bertha’s battery (with a generic, £10 replacement from the addictive amazon.com…) like my good ol’ dad suggested, and she’s back to her amazing self! To say this makes me happy is kind of like saying Shakespeare wrote ‘Romeo and Juliet’-duuuuuuuuh.  So she’s back from the dead, and here is a tale of what she did after her resurrection:

Bertha went to Brighton.

She took me with her, obviously.  London has been so ridiculously hot that a trip to the coast was deemed necessary in an effort to cool down.  So I did what I always do before a day full of fun: I grabbed a coffee and my favorite traveling partner, and Jenn and I headed to the wonderful city of Brighton.  Normally I’m not the kind of girl that thinks, “Man!  I just want to lay on a beach!” but that’s toootally how I felt on Monday.  Mainly because the cool breeze coming off the water mixed so nicely with the way the pebbled beach masqueraded as a Thermotop mattress, forming itself so comfortably around me as I lay on a blanket.  It wasn’t enough to make me think I should skip a nice lunch and remain on the beach, however.  And by ‘nice lunch’ I mean the biggest portion of chicken chow mein I’ve had in some time, for less than £4 while sitting on Brighton Pier.  Basically amazing.

But lunch was to be outdone by amazing views from Brighton’s version of the Eye; not only was there a ‘summer special’ on (AKA, £3 off.  I should have gone back for more Chinese with my savings!), but there was air conditioning and witty commentary in each rotating car of the Brighton Wheel.  It was so gorgeous to stare out across the English Channel in one direction, and then turn around to view the slight rises and falls of the topographically interesting city.  The only logical activity to follow this spinning wheel of magnificent views was, of course, to grab an ice cream and aimlessly wander around.  Which led, craftily enough, to an entire boulevard of street art.

Between the neat shops and tributes to James Brown and Run D.M.C., and the gorgeous decorations and history of the Royal Pavilion, Brighton had something to offer for every whim.  The last whim that we indulged was a 49 mile walk to the marina.  It was probably only a mile and a half-ish, but after already walking around all day it sure felt like 49 miles.  Once we finally arrived at this final destination, the sun was sparkling brilliantly off the water, lighting up the rows upon rows of sailboats tucked away in their slips.  So after the 49 mile walk and the attempt to keep dehydration at bay during dinner as we gulped down glasses of ice cold drinks, we decided to succumb to exhaustion and took a bus back to the train station.  We inadvertently jumped on the bus that took, according to the driver, ‘the looong way ’round’.  That is probably the only version of a ‘bus tour’ that you will find me on these days, which was great because we got to twist and turn through neighborhoods that we would have never seen otherwise.  It was a fitting end to our seaside escape.

In other news: I’m homesick.

I was thinking earlier today how these feelings of homesickness have been front and center the past couple of weeks.  Not in an over-the-top kind of way, just in a this-is-the-longest-I-have-ever-gone-without-being-in-the-physical-presence-of-family kind of way.  (Sidenote: it is really hard to type whilst putting in dash marks…)  I mentioned in an earlier post that I haven’t had the calming feeling that everything will work out, that I haven’t felt the ‘click’ of knowing where exactly my next move will take me.  And maybe one reason for this is the fact that it has been 10 months since I have seen my loved ones in a non-technological way.  (AKA, I see their faces on my computer screen often, but poking them in the eye just isn’t as satisfying when their eye is only a video image).  When I graduated from high school, I went to Wyoming’s one and only university so that I would only have an hour and a half drive home to see my grandma as much as possible.  When I graduated from university, I ran away a bit further with my move to Dallas.  Funnily enough, I probably went home to visit more while living in Dallas than I did when I lived in Laramie.  So I think not flying/driving/(according to some English gents) taking my horse and buggy home every couple of months has finally culminated in feelings of homesickness.  Which is probably a good sign for my loved ones-apparently I’m rather attached to you.  Or I could just really miss the mountains.  Nah, it’s probably you guys.

So I’m excited to see how my intuition for the future will operate once I get that little taste of home in just a few short days.  Or, who knows-maybe the little brother will fall in love with London so much he’ll move over here and be my roommate.  (Although I don’t have a donut shop right across the street from me, so probably not…)

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