Because I'm spending a bit of time in new English cities for this tournament, I brought along my England guidebook. When I dumped off the book I'd finished reading at the Edinburgh flat, Jody thought I was also leaving the guide behind.
I said, "No, I'm taking it with me. There might be something I need to see in Leicester."
Jody replied, "As someone who's lived there, trust me, there isn't."
But he did add later that it's "not a shithole like Leeds." So I guess that's something.
As it turned out, I haven't seen much of Leicester after all, but it's not the city's fault. I came down with a cold on the way back from football in Aberdeen on Saturday, spent Sunday feeling like complete ass, and hadn't improved terribly by the time I boarded the train here Monday. The weather also turned when I left Scotland, so seeing Leicester meant trudging around in the pouring rain, coughing up a lung. Fun! Even so, I can attest to the fact that Jody's correct, and Leicester is not a shithole.
I spent Monday evening in bed, watching TV and trying to get over my virus, but I did check out the guidebook and found the New Walk Museum and Art Gallery, which was actually on my way to the rugby stadium, and decided I'd leave early on Tuesday afternoon to stop in there before the game. So I slept in late, lazed around drinking coffee, then gathered up all my stuff to take the 10 minute walk to the museum.
After about 5 minutes it started raining. Pouring. No, those aren't strong enough words... Dumping water from every direction, I guess. By the time I got to New Walk, every part of me was completely soaked through and dripping, aside from a small area around my head that the umbrella covered, and my feet/ankles under the protection of rubber boots. That's exactly why I bought the wellies -- the first pair I've owned since I was probably 6 years old. There's nothing worse than sitting through a sporting event with soaked shoes and socks, toes pruning up and making you miserable.
The museum and art gallery was nice enough, a bit small and kid-oriented for me, but not bad. I definitely would have enjoyed it more had I not been so cold and damp during my wander through.
By the time I emerged to head to the game, the sun had come out, and it did a good job of drying me out on my walk to the stadium. The game itself was a pretty good one, if you had no affiliation with either of the teams. Canada went up 15-0, only to have Romania come back to win 17-15 in about the last 25 minutes. The jubilant Canadians putting back bucketfuls of beer turned angry drunk toward the end, and I was happy to get out of there before a fight broke out when one threw his full beverage at the field, meaning mostly all over the fans in front of him.
Along those lines, the drunken fans around me spilled more beer than I've ever seen at any sporting event. My handbag was on the ground, so I was keeping an eye out to ensure it stayed in a dry spot. As I got up to leave, though, I found that the booze had seeped under from behind and there was a rectangular puddle where it had collected under my bag. I dried it with napkins from the snack bar, then cleaned it when I got back to the hotel, and thought that was it sorted. However, picking it up this morning to leave, the bottom was still damp inside and out, and it's clear that the beer was absorbed into the leather. I'm not sure it can be cleaned, especially in a hotel room, so I may need to spend some time this week purse shopping. Damn Canadians!
Anyway, today I'm off to London. No rugby tickets for me, just a detour because it's there. London is its own reason to visit. Obviously.
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