Wales, Day 2
Morning dawned just as gloriously. After a real Welsh breakfast (not helpful to the waistline), I took a walk down the hill. (There are only two ways you can walk in Wales, down the hill or up the hill. There are no flat spots in Wales. Sylv used to say that if you ironed it out, Wales would be bigger than Russia!) I walked two miles, my Fit Bit says. Fair enough.
The sun is hot, the air is cool and there’s a slight breeze. I don’t know what the temperature is, but when a cloud hides the sun, it’s chilly. I wore shorts and a tee shirt, which is not the custom in the UK. One columnist wrote, “British men of a certain age can wear shorts provided that they terminate well below the knee and are accompanied by sockless sandals. The usual British summer uniform – short shorts, socks and either black or brown work shoes – should only be on public view if accompanied by a knotted handkerchief on the head.”
The meetings Uncle Lyndon set up with the head of nursing education and head administrator and the head of the pediatric oncology section of the children’s hospital re the Sylvia Lauterborn Oncology Nursing Fellowship were successful beyond expectations. Everyone was almost gurgle-y enthusiastic. In fact, even before we meet with the head of the main cancer hospital tomorrow, Lyn thinks he has a donor who would fund sending a second Welsh nurse to Chapel Hill, if it would be possible to add her to the program. He thinks there will be lots of interest and a strong competition.
Lyn took me to lunch at a Chinese restaurant in downtown Cardiff and to my surprise and delight it was authentically Szechuan. Lyn’s eyes watered and his nose ran when he tried the hot and sour soup!
In the evening Kev and Lyn and I met up with a couple of Lyn’s old buddies, a city planner named Powys who kindly showed me several historic spots in the neighborhood of the pub and a great character named Peter, the child of Italian immigrants, a real self-made man. Five pints later, Kev brought me back to the hotel!