Epic Fail

A new day and I’ve managed to find more time to write about my journey. My brief stay in Southampton was, in a word, interesting. After departing the train last night, I wandered aimlessly looking for a place to stay on the cheap. With nothing in sight, I stopped at a festive pub. The Ballroom Society at the local university was having an 80’s night on the town. I struck up a conversation with Hayley, a French woman from Nantes, but I don’t think a friend of hers was very happy about that. Though a nice guy, Chris, an Irish Englishmen with a very outspoken worldview, quickly intervened and prevented both Hayley and me from getting too involved in the conversation. My first thought was that I happened to chat up this guy’s girlfriend and he wasn’t too pleased about that. I rather regret not being able to spot the lack of a relationship sooner. I can’t put my finger on it, but I just have this feeling that I was meant to have a longer conversation with her. Maybe someday my journey will cross her path again. They soon moved on to a nightclub and I tried to find a local hostel for a bed. Unfortunately, Southampton has absolutely none of them. I think I may be going into business soon! The least expensive guest house was 35 pounds a night… yeah right! By now it was about 10pm and time was running out. The pub was fizzling out so I decided to move on and check another where I met Anna and Sam.

Though I’ll never see them again, I am glad to have met Anna and Sam. I’m not sure why they are living in Southampton as they are part of the minority of people in the city worth knowing. They were sympathetic to my situation and even tried to go out of their way to assist. Unfortunately, it didn’t work out in my favor. As consolation, Sam bought me a pint before the bar closed. He even let me try his mobile to ring a stagecoach inn to haggle a late night rate; no one was answering. We said our goodbyes and I reinforced that they need not worry about my situation because it’ll work itself out.

About .25 miles down the road, I thought things were coming together. I ran across a bloke smoking a cigarette outside a lounge and we got to talking. A fellow traveler who had visited the LA area, he was empathetic to my dilemma. Turns out, a friend of his operates a guest house and he was going to try and get me a room for 15 or 20 pounds. I really believed the plan was all coming together for me. I think that was my folly… Rather than accepting that things would work out, I moved ahead of myself. Backfire! The guest house was booked solid and there were no rooms available. While waiting, I had been talking to a Portuguese woman called ‘Layla.’ I came to realize I had walked into a lap dance lounge. For the first time, I felt a bit unsafe on my trip. I wouldn’t say threatened, but the thought occurred to me that the bloke could be setting me up for a kidney transplant! When I found out the room was unavailable I extricated myself from the situation. ‘Layla’ seemed nice enough, so I asked if she wanted to go for a drink elsewhere. After leaving, ‘Layla’ became Natasha and we wandered around the city.

All the clubs and pubs had closed by now; everything except a small Indian restaurant. My strategy had shifted to finding places that were open late so I could sit in warm rooms instead of sleep on cold concrete. Natasha is a bit of a lost soul. She is trying to figure life out, and she will someday, but right now she is going through a period of trials. Like Sam and Anna, she was sympathetic to my situation but unable to offer sleeping quarters, so she bought me a pint of beer as a parting gift. Around 4am, I stumbled into a loading dock area and fell asleep against my pack. Though not a bad night of sleep, it would have been so much better with my sleeping pad to cushion the concrete. I think by now, everyone can agree Southampton is a place to go with a plan! The following morning I checked the local transportation board to find out how the hell I was going to get to Cornwall. With only two cost effective options, I decided to purchase a coach ticket over trusting the English to pick up an American hitcher. However, I went on the cheap and decided to jump up to Bristol instead and save 10 pounds.