Laid low in Manchester

Unfortunately, dear readers, this traveller has been bitten by a cold bug. As such, I woke up this morning, tried to convince myself this was not so by checking emails and getting something to eat, only to return to my hostel, eat the lunch and then promptly sleep for about two hours.

Argh.

In reality, it's not too serious, and I do have some mighty fine cold pills I picked up in Argentina. I don't know what's different about them, but I can take a single one and feel better for about 30 hours. (The packaging says to take one every 6 or 8 hours...)

Had an interesting chat with the boy remaining in my hostel room. He's from Northern Ireland (though not exactly Belfast). We talked of US politics and the state of The Troubles in Northern Ireland (as a side note, I really am amazed at how much the US media controls what news is exported -- whenever I relate unsavory bits of the manipulation of the recent elections, non-US citizens are amazed at what happens -- not least because voting is not compulsory). I related the story of the trashy-dressed teenage girls, and he said they probably would've taken me on in a fight. That they still probably would have done so if it had been me with five or six friends.

So. I braved the relative cold outside to check for a particular email from someone (which is not in my in-box, for shame!) and to get something to eat.

Wish me luck in recovering quickly.

Because really, I would much rather spend a few hours going to the Manchester United "museum" and being all gooey touristy over such a great football team.

And honestly, I wouldn't mind the chance to see some lovely football players In Person, flirt with them, and thus enter the lottery for:

Could [She] Become a Footballer's Wife...