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The bus was late, as per usual in my adventures, and Nat, Ben and I purchased unfortunate looking sandwiches for way more than they were worth to tide us over on our three hour bus ride to Bristol. Chatting with Courtney, we set up a meeting place (loosely which caused poor Courtney to scour around the city between stations to find us), and made our way to her comfortable flat that she shared with a red, poofy haired boyfriend named Tom and another worldly couple. We threw together a quick meal and went off to bed, deciding that we would wake up at a reasonable time to go for a hike to “the Yellow House.”

Emerging from our slumber in the front room, Nat, Ben, and I took turns showering before realizing that like most days in England, it was rainy and overcast outside. This didn’t stop us from eating an early breakfast, getting on our waterproof coats, not-so-waterproof pants, and definitely not-waterproof shoes. I found out later as I walked around in the pools that had formed around my toes that I should have worn my boots, but it wasn’t a big deal as I was able to dry everything near Courtney’s amazingly efficient wood burning stove when we came back from our hike.

We spent around three hours getting soaked as the rain never ceased, pushing up the muddy hills that eventually caused Courtney’s legs to come out from under her, caking her coat and pants in cold mud. We found old bunkers on one of the large hills surrounding the city, explored its’ dark corners and underground tunnels, then called it a day when the Yellow House was within view… and down another muddy hill that was bound to claim an additional victim. Unfortunately with how rainy it was, I was unable to get a photo of the house either… so let your imagination run wild.

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Courtney after her wipe out.

 

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The view from the top of the military tunnel ruins over Bristol.

The rest of the day was spent catching up, reminiscing about the past, drinking wine, eating croissants with cheese, and hacking away at the huge jamón ibérico (see photo below) that took up half the kitchen counter. We basked in the warmth of the wood burning stove for a while before Courtney and Tom’s friend Cameron came over, then started to prepare the duck they had purchased for dinner, alongside some delicious vegetables.

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Slicing the jamón ibérico.

At night we planned to head to an electronic show in a warehouse, as Courtney and I hadn’t been to a concert together for years. We danced the hours away to funky nineties inspired tunes before deciding we were all exhausted from a long day, and walked home. I got to know Courtney’s boyfriend a lot more, as he was at first soft spoken, and came to really like how fun and intelligent he was.

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One of the DJs playing.

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Temple of the Octopus.

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The streets of Bristol are filled with graffiti.

The morning was spent walking to a nearby café for scrumptious breakfast and tea, then we walked back to the train station as a group, saying our goodbyes and realizing that the next time we would see each other would be stateside, back home where all of us would eventually end in the summertime.