It's gettin' close to midnight and I'm all alone in the port station at Holyhead, with no where or way to go until the next morning...on a bench. A bench of grated metal dipped in rubber. It's cold...very cold.
I'm tryin to get back to Hiedleberg Germany where I was stationed with the US Army.
Three days earlier, in Dingle Ireland, I realized I didn't have any money in my wallet. What little money I did have in the bank, 30 pounds maybe, couldn't be got in the Irish Republic. I needed access to a British bank. So I headed to Belfast with my Irish rail-pass...which, as it turned out, was no good in Northern Ireland...but, thanks to God gifted Southern Charm and a porter's fascination with Elvis I was able to sweet talk my way onto a train for Dublin. There I found a bunk for 5 pounds, but rather than conserve my money, I decided to spend one more night on the town. Next day I don't remember much except being on the ferry to Holyhead trying to change my luck with the slots...BIG MONEY BIG MONEY...wrong.
We got to Holyhead just in time to see the train for London pulling out. I barely had enough money to eat on for the next day...finding a bed was out. So, I picked a bench for the night and prepared to hunker down...at which point I was engaged by two tweekers that mistook me for an undercover cop and soon split the scene in a fit of paranoia...leaving me all alone on my bench.
All installments can be viewed and read by clicking on the Holyhead label to the right.
That's where we resume our story...
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