Day Four and Five

So I've got good news and bad news.

Bad news.

I missed my flight from Manchester to Belgium. It was a rookie mistake. I didn't check the flight times locally, I just knew when my flight would be in America.
I'm also still sick. I could barely keep down the piece of toast and sip of soup I bought.

Good news:

I'm staying in a fancy hotel at the Manchester airport. By fancy I mean a 4-star hotel, which is leaps and bounds over the simple room I stayed at with Airbnb. The hotel is on the grounds of the airport, with a covered walkway leading to it (which is smart, since it's been raining non-stop since I got here yesterday morning).

Bad news:

I'm struggling with the desire to stay on this trip. Every time I think about booking another flight, another train, another bus, my heart starts to pound in my chest and my stomach turns to acid and I have to look for the nearest bathroom.
 When you read a book (at least the kind of books I like to read), there is always at least one moment when the character is taken over by terror. Eyes widen, heart rate quickens, stomach turns, breathing becomes difficult, etc etc.
I get that response every time I think about continuing on with the trip.
I've spent the past four days hunched over in my seat with my head between my knees. I've spent the past four days not sleeping. I've spend the past four days not eating. I've spend the last four days seeing the inside of foreign public restrooms.
It doesn't make sense to me to spend thousands of dollars just seeing the inside of public restrooms and being too sick to go and see the sights.
Also, I found out that I can't spend more than $500 a day and withdraw more than $300.

Good news:

I'm flexible. I'm figuring it out.
 I'd like to go home soon, I don't much enjoy being sick and alone and terrified every waking moment.
On the other hand, I really, really want to at least SEE something over here.
Also, I did some laundry.


Notes:

Firstly, my Aunt Britney was right. Two pubs and a fish 'n' chips Do make a block. Also, as a rule, there is a sketchy Chinese place, either an Indian or a American place (I'm talking KFC and "southern" barbecue), a hair stylist, and a sort of home store (furniture, flooring, appliances, etc). Every other block will have a liquor store and a fresh market.
Secondly, they're not speaking the same language. Sure they're speaking English, but a London or Manchester accent is nearly indecipherable to my ears. I recognize a sound or familiar word here and there, but most of the time I have no idea what they are saying.
Thirdly, when you travel here, nobody tells you that you're going to be on the wrong side of every walkway and do that awkward dance with people when you're in the way. I mean sure you know that they drive on the other side of the road. But you don't remember that the rules of regular walkways are similar. In America, you keep to the right. In England, if you keep to the right you run into everybody. I've danced with more strangers here than I ever did at a 5-stake dance.
Fourthly: Tea.
Yeah sure I know the English drink tea. I know that in an act of rebellion and defiance we Americans dumped a whole boatload of it into the Boston harbor. I know that in all the television shows and movies Tea is a regular part of their diet.
I didn't understand how big of a deal it is.
When the waitress comes up to you, the first question out of her mouth is "What tea would you like?" In the hotel room, there are five different types of tea to choose from. In the hotel lobby there is a kettle and tea bags ready to go.
It's like Tobasco in Texas, coffee in Seattle, barbecue sauce in North Carolina. It's assumed that you're going to have it, it doesn't occur to people that you don't want it.
Fifthly: In America, if you wear your hat backwards its a sign that you are at least a little bit of a jerk. In England, the sign is a leather jacket and khakis.

Til next time,
Nita