As of yesterday morning, my plan for today looked like a haircut, tracking down a professor, essay writing and a dermatologist appointment. But then last night, Other American hit me with a spontaneous alternative: fuck all that, and go to the British army base instead to hang with the South African. I polled everyone I talk to on a daily basis, and the consensus was that this was a bad plan, and I shouldn't do it. The exception being Claire, who said it was a bad plan, and I should do it, duh. So that's what I did!
It could have to do with the lots and lots of men in uniforms who drive tanks, or it could be my secret pleasure at getting on the other side of the barbed wire and seeing what's so flammable they're trying to keep me away from--but whatever the reason, I really, really like army bases. But I also really, really like crossing things off the Bucket List, and, coincidentally enough, Go To The British Army Base is number 18!
So Other American and I woke up nice and early to take a bus to Bergen, the nearest town to the base. There, we ate donuts and messed around until the South African stopped playing hockey long enough to pick us up. We also discovered that in Bergen, we get royally stared at, like, British-guys-driving cars-with-wrong-sided-steering-wheels-slapping-their mates-and-pointing-to-us stared at. I have several theories for why this could be:
1) We are clearly girls.
2) We are clearly foreign girls.
3) We are clearly foreign girls not selling our bodies out of camping trailers parked on the side of the road leading into town.*
4) I was wearing my hot purple coat, which means I was the brightest thing to be seen. Even brighter than the sun, mostly because no one has actually seen it in several weeks.
At any rate, as awkward as being gawked at doesn't make me feel, it was a relief to get picked up. Unfortunately, I only had an hour to explore before I had to catch a bus back to pick up the charge. But I got to see the barracks, Some Other Buildings, and the South African's room. Also, we watched Desperate Housewives. Anti-climactic? Maybe a little bit. But we still had lots of fun, I met County Cork's roommates, and we got waived through a giant gate by some guy holding a semi automatic rife. Did not see a tank.
Whatever. I still get to cross it off the Bucket List.
*It's true, they actually do this, and yes, they do drive campers.