We all know that sinking feeling of the return schlepp from a holiday; there's no other option and no alternative than to leave but you'd give your right arm to stay one more day. Please, please, God, don't make me do this. Well, he did and here I am back in Cardiff.
Meeting up last night for a last drink with Mauro, Paddy, Seamus, Olivier and Maarten was lovely; we started at a small and bijoux cocktail bar called Kactus and then moved on to a Dutch bar where the barman looked uncannily like Jeremy Clarkson. I had one eye on the time because I had an early start this morning but it was a lovely and relaxing evening all the same.
The flight home was uneventful and the commute from the airport outside Cardiff to the town centre was grim, given the cattle truck state of the Arriva train I caught. The weather in Cardiff is at least 15 degrees below the temperature on Fuerteventura and 10 degrees below what it was in Cardiff only yesterday. This made it a doubly depressing return home.
At times like this, there is only one solution: hit the town and extend the holiday. Look out Cardiff...
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