We often say that our school days were some of the best days of our lives and here I find myself going back to those days when I used to look outside the window of my corner classroom, counting the seconds for the bell to ring and for another day’s class to come to an end. Let’s face it, the actual classes weren’t that much fun, but it was the time outside the classroom, may it be in the school campus hanging out with friends, or in the canteen, or outside the gates waiting for that special crush, or in some favourite haunt or simply in a friends house that made those schools days so memorable.
12 years on things haven’t really changed that much. There are no bells and there are no fixed times, but there’s always something that we look forward to more than anything. Something that will make us smile and make that day a little less unbearable. It could be that someone special who is eagerly waiting for you to finish work, or it could be a hobby that you are really into, or it could simply be spending time with your friends and family.
Well, for me it has always been spending time with friends and this blog is about my life, rather our lives in Cardiff.
I have spent more than 18 months or so in this city and I have always believed that it was one of the best places to be in and I had grown over the months to love every beat of this city. Note that I say this in the past tense. The last couple of weeks have however been a bit different to say the least and that beat no longer throbs within me and it isn’t difficult to figure out why
My story begins on the 13th floor of the tallest building in Cardiff. To those who are not familiar with this city, that is the BT building and my desk was on the 13th floor. This was like a little battle ground. This happens to be the place we initially dreaded to move too and the place that ultimately brought us closer. Like any battle, we obviously had our own war room in one corner, form where we used to touch base with headquarters and get our new missions. Not sure if we won or lost the battle and neither does it matter anymore. But strangely enough I don’t think any of us will ever forget that little room called ‘Kilimanjaro’. (I certainly won’t because I am still sitting next to it…)
And offcourse after the bell rings or in other words once we finish with work, there were plenty of things to do. Prince of Wales on Fridays almost became a ritual for us. One Orange Juice, One pint of Carling, One blue lagoon and One Jack Daniels with a plate of nachos on table 68. Badminton on every alternate evening, a drink at Nosda on a cool summer evening overlooking the shallow waters of River Taff, were all the little things we had taken for granted.
Our daily lunches at the canteen, take-away from walk the wok, a bite at Subway, an afternoon stroll in the city centre (only on those light days), the monstrous lunch at Spice Root over the weekends, home deliveries from Café Naz, Monday nights at Q-Bar for a free round of pool, unlimited movies at Cineworld, the un-fulfilled dreams of a Bash were just few of the things that kept us occupied. And lets not forget that all of us are great cooks as well. We used to all take turns in making our specialities for dinner. Some made hot and spicy mutton, some made excellent chicken (that is me by the way… ) while some gave us dreams of Biriyani. But amongst us all part-time Master Chefs, there were two genuinely natural and talented Chefs who were always ready with their special home cooked meals. I can safely say I have spent more time in this house than in my own. New and experimental party punches, Diwali Santa, dumb sharades, bingo, hundreds of hours on Nintendo Wii, we did it all. We were like one big happy family.
Lets not put aside our travels and excursions around UK and Europe. Spending the new year in the worlds most romantic city amidst the Eiffel Tower, welcoming the new year amongst the fireworks, lights and splendour of Disney Land, standing above the holy grail at the Louvre, walking down the Champs Elysees with a Hagen Diaz ice-cream, travelling to the highest point in Europe amongst the mountains of Jungfrauch, playing and fighting in the snow-capped mountains of Titlis, my first and last taste of the much heard of Cheese Fondue, taking in the fresh mountain air of Zermatt, a stroll by the Rhine Falls, a cruise on lake Geneva, the exhilarating view of the Island of Capri, a look into the home of the roman gladiators at the colosseum, standing under the leaning tower of Pisa, a peek into the Vatican and the glory of St Peters Basillica, a Gondola ride in the rainy afternoon in Venice, a hot cup of coffee at Piazza San Marco and finally a glimpse of the Duomo at Milan, the fashion capital of the world.
Coming closer to home, we did manage to pay homage to the great Loch Ness monster in the Lochs of Scotland, a salute to the Edinburgh castle, mingling with the tigers and wolves at Longleats and keeping the car well away from the monkeys, a Barbeque in the cold Summer evening at Prembrokshire with only the fire and the red wine to keep the cold away, amidst the wild rides at Oakwood and the shooting, golf, archery and go-carting at Heatherton, chugging along the Brecon Mountains Railways with a sensual traditional lunch at the Red Cow Inn, the roaring of the trucks at Monster Jam and the mesmerizing Madonna on her opening night were just some of the high-lights of my stay here.
There is so much more to pen down and I could go on and on but allow me to put a cap on my thoughts for now.
We spent so much time here and looking back on them now, they seem so special. Strangely I never realised how special those days were until now. Believe me it wasn’t Cardiff that was fun and it wasn’t Cardiff‘s beat that I loved, it was all of us that made it a fun place to be in and it was us that gave a beat to this city..
And what is sad is that all of us might never be together again, but I’m happy that we have created such amazing memories and friends that we will cherish forever…
I still have some wonderful friends here today, but things have certainly changed... I can’t help but wonder what it would be like if we were all back together again in this city known as ‘Cymru’. Unfortunately all I can do is wonder and pray that we get a chance to continue this adventure somewhere along the way.
Croeso I Cymru ! That means Welcome to Wales !
Note: I have not named any characters above but I’m sure they can relate to the different parts of this blog.
I wish had written these myself, but truth be told I haven’t. I found them hidden in my mailbox and may be you have even read some of these before, but I just loved them so much that I thought they deserve a better place to be hosted. (These forwards also came with a moral....which i have removed. I'm sure you'll figure that out...)
