Nice, actually

(Too tired to bother with third person conversion.)
    Long ago, as I probably have mentioned, I did a Junior Year Abroad at the University of Kent at Canterbury, England. Owing to culture shock or to my inability to speak actual English, I didn't actually make friends with too many British people during the year. One fellow whom I got to know pretty well was called Tony. He was from Hounslow in suburban London, which he said was best known for being on the flight path of the Concorde from Heathrow. Tony was a blond, friendly fellow with a lot of useful touristic suggestions.
    Tony told me that the place all the English people visit is Pembrokeshire in South Wales. Most exciting and beautiful is the Pembrokeshire Coast Path. Now I had already learned what "nice, actually" means in Britain. (It means, for instance when applied to food, "disgusting.") He didn't say "nice, actually" a single bit. If he was winding me up, he wasn't doing it halfway; he was flat lying. Or maybe I just had an unlucky visit.
    In Pembrokeshire, I stayed at the youth hostel in St. David's, the smallest city in Britain. It's a city because it has a cathedral (bet you can't guess to which saint it's dedicated!) though it only has about 1,000 people. Pretty cool... city. Unfortunately, shortly after I got on the Pembrokeshire Coast Path, it started raining. Out of some kind of foolish doggedness, I stuck it out. Out of some other kind of foolishness, I wasn't well equipped for bad weather. (Though as I recall, it was wild and windy, so an umbrella wouldn't have lasted long, and wind would have whipped the rain under any hood or hat anyway.) I no longer remember with any confidence how far I walked or for how long; it seemed like years. And for years, in my head, anything awful had to compete with the rains of Pembrokeshire, especially anything meteorological: "This may be bad, but at least it isn't Pembrokeshire."
    I also don't remember for sure if I ever asked Tony if he had been winding me up, or even if I ever told him that I had less than a superlative time. I suspect that I at least did the latter. Anyway, I'll always have St. David's.