There's something I haven't been telling you.
I lost my credit card.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGGGGGGRRRRGHH!
In Paris, I had it. When I arrived in Brighton, it was gone. I have no idea what happened to it. I also cannot find my COIN PURSE which contains mixed change in several currencies, at least ten pounds and SEVERAL HUNDRED AUSTRALIAN DOLLARS.
WHY MUST I LOSE ONLY THE MOST IMPORTANT THINGS?!
This brings my lost tally as follows:
- one pair of black gloves, cheap, unmissed
- one turquoise warm beret, Christmas present, very much missed
- one black pen, easily replaced
- one corn purse, NOT MINE, containing MONEY
- one CREDIT CARD
Here are the silver linings:
- still got my passport, and photocopies of credit card so I was able to cancel it easily
- I still have my backup card, a Travelex reloadable thing
- I was staying with Kate and could borrow money off her and stay some extra days
I reloaded money onto the card on Friday, but it was Saturday in Australia. I then spent the next five days waiting anxiously for the money to come in and trying to spend very little in Brighton.
It's a relaxing sort of place, Brighton, chilled out, small enough to be a small town but with an alternative city vibe, a charmingly kitch pier and a beach consisting of large pebbles. It'd be a lovely place to live. After two days, though, I was ready to leave... and couldn't.
Well, anyhow, the money's come in and I've finally run away to Salisbury. I didn't tell any of you because I wanted the only one to be in suspense to be... me.
|  | 
|
