It was my first full day in the city of Montréal and I was really feeling the chill. In the morning, I had walked the city streets, or more accurately, I had slid the city streets. Or should it be slud? Or sludded perhaps? Come to think of it, the best way to describe what I did was I sludged my way around the city. The sub-zero temperatures had been nicely complemented with a deluge of snow the previous day, all of which now seemed to have turned into a brown, semi-liquefied goo which was oozing into my boots.
Today, it was time to explore the metropolis of Nottingham. The sun was already waiting for me as I de-trained and strolled through town, making straight for Nottingham Castle. It’s called a “castle” when it should actually be called “Nottingham Fairly Large House on the Hill”, but that doesn’t really roll off the tongue as well. I looked around at the entrance gate and decided to go for it, knowing full well that I might be staggeringly underwhelmed by the sheer non-castleness of it all. At least I got that right, as the grounds of the “castle” were undergoing a massive transformation after a recent festival and most of the area was in fact fenced off. I’m sure that would have pissed Robin Hood off if he was here with me.
It’s time to fess up about a really peculiar habit of mine. As most of my friends and family know, I travel a bit and I’ve been to a few different places around the world. While I travel, I also try to do a variety of different things and so amongst other things, I have driven a Russian tank, flown a Cessna 172 and dived with Manta Rays. All well and good.
I like bears. I live in a European city which has this great animal as its mascot – the city of Bärlin is a great place to be, it has great people, lots of history and tons of things to do every day.