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Finding anything resembling sanity is Aberystwyth is akin to finding vegetarian marshmallows.
Today proved to be a very bad and vaguely tramatic experience.
First I had to brave the stench from the flat downstairs dire cooking, which seems to consist mostly of currying rotted meat. Venturing out onto the seafront, I saw the wedding party, the fat bride looking like an inflatable tank in her white wedding dress, the skinny groom posing for the photo by perching on the freshly painted (and clearly labelled) railings and the kids from their previous marriages ran screaming around them. As though this was not horrific enough, there was a trail of elderly people on zimmer frames leading back to the old people's home. Whether these people were invited guests or had just attempted escape is as yet unknown.
Further down the prom an ambulence sat outside the aforementioned old people's home. The two attending paramedics were sitting on the steps drinking coffee as the person on the stretcher gently turns a funny shade of blue. Opposite them someone had set up a temporary icerink for the kids which was slowly melting away.
Crossing the street I was careful to avoid beign hit by randomly flying skateboards - the kiddie boarders have been trying for 3 years now to my knowledge and still can not cope with dropping off the pavement without falling off.
The local tack emporium, 'Stars', was doing a roaring trade as ever, selling knockoff versions of 'alternative' clothing as appears to be the current height of fashion.
Wandering down the road, I passed under the scaffold were the builders were throwing their lunch at people passing by, and on past the Christmas shop that resides where the headquarters of BBC Radio Wales used to be. Upon wandering past another junky shop I glanced idley in the window to see the wonder that are the '20TH ANNIVERSARY LIMITED EDITION CARE BEARS - ONE FOR EACH MOOD - COLLECT THEM ALL!' They appear evil and twisted and mostly likely a cash-in. There are also only three of them.
More shops and people that scare me appear: the estate agents that never close, the clientel of 'Burger King', the random Welsh shop selling Welsh language tack, the National Farmers' Union, more kiddie boarders, one of my lecturers aged about 48 wearing a bright yellow puffer jacket and pushing a three wheeled pram containing what appears to be a mutant...
I am never going out alone again.
