London: Portobello Road, to a very disappointing Bristol

Jess was up early at 7.20 and kept packing. I got up after 8 and we went down for breakfast, finishing what we could and donating the rest to the free food box. Jess checked out while I put some of her Vegemite on my sandwiches.

We said goodbye and she headed to Marble Arch to get her bus to Luton airport and to Paris. I packed up the last of my gear and checked out myself, taking my YHA membership card, chatting to Brisbane woman. As I walked out with my bag, Gilarme got in the lift with me to show me how to use the lockers in the basement. I had no change so he lent me a pound and lifted my bag into the locker. We went back up to reception so I could change a note and pay him back, and then back out into the street. He was going to spend the day shopping in Oxford St so walked me to Oxford Circus station. He is very nice and extremely attractive.

I got the train to Notting Hill Gate and walked to Portobello Road. It was fairly miserable and raining but the place was heaving. The markets are pretty cool with antiques, crappy souvenirs, jewellery, veges, food, fudge, and almost anything else you can imagine. From there I intended to go to Tower Bridge for a photo but when I got there and walked out of the station I was going to be late for my bus.

I hightailed it back to the hostel, grabbed my bag, ran to Oxford Circus station, went to Victoria, walked (ran) to the coach station but still missed the bus by a few minutes. I rang National Express and they said to ask the driver of the 2pm to let me on. Luckily he was really nice and let me on. The trip was pretty uninteresting, except for the fact that we left London via Chelsea, Cheyne Place, and Earl’s Court. The sun came out momentarily too. Cheyne Place looks lovely.

We pulled into Bristol at about 4.20pm. I walked out of the bus station in the direction I thought was right, and found St Michaels Hill easily. The ‘guest house’ was through the café’s street level door and the whole place looked immediately shabby. The guy who checked me in looked shady and the room was terrible. The tea cup was dirty, there was scarce toilet paper, there was no top sheet and a light shone into my room all night.

I went out for a walk in search of dinner up Whiteladies Road, and while there were some really nice places, they were sit-down only. I was asked for money on a street corner, and I saw a drunken man yell and kick a street sign for no apparent reason. I got Indian takeaway right near the guesthouse and chatted to the two lovely people in the shop. Unfortunately the food was unpalatable because it was so unbearably hot. I watched TV and went to bed.