Three times backing packing made Bradley feel better:
1. At one point Bradley accidentally wandered in one of the seedier sections of Beijing, where he felt tall and white and conspicuous. Absolutely everyone was looking at the stupid lost tourist, but when he realized that no one was looking at *him*, he was surprisingly okay with that.
2. He's in Rome, talking with this girl from the States ("Georgia, to be exact") who's taking a gap year in between college and high school because "I'm not sure I know what I wants to do with my life, but I'll be fucked if they'll pressure me into doing something that I'm not ready for." Sitting across from the Colosseum and watching the tourists sweat in the July heat, Bradley thinks he loves her, just a little.
3. He runs into Colin (randomly, he swears it was random) in a pub in Dublin. He's sitting in the middle of what has got to be the most touristy place in all Ireland; there are shamrocks everywhere and the whole place is covered in Celtic knots. Bradley, who's heard Colin's drunken rants on shamrocks, which are hysterical, partially because Colin is really too soft spoken to be taken seriously when he rants and partially because drunken Colin has a tendency to forget that he's holding a beer and will spill it all over himself at some point in the evening, raises his eyebrow at the decor. However, the food is fine and the All Blacks are playing the Irish national side on the telly, and Bradley isn't that picky. The last Bradley heard, Colin was in London, doing some stage work, so it makes no sense that he's in Ireland. "Hey," Colin says after he taps Bradley on the shoulder to get his attention.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Bradley replies, because quite frankly, he's never been accused of huge amounts of tact, and the last person he expects to see in this shitty Irish pub is Colin fucking Morgan. Well, that's not quite true, but he's stopped expecting to see Merlin every time he turns around a while ago, and funnily enough, that thought doesn't hurt as much as it used to. Now it's like the dull twinge of a scar during winter rather than the sharp burn of a cut tendon. It hurts, sure, but it's something he knows how to live with. So while he might have been thinking about Colin, that's no surprise, because lots of things make him think about Colin. That doesn't mean he expects to see him.
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1. At one point Bradley accidentally wandered in one of the seedier sections of Beijing, where he felt tall and white and conspicuous. Absolutely everyone was looking at the stupid lost tourist, but when he realized that no one was looking at *him*, he was surprisingly okay with that.
2. He's in Rome, talking with this girl from the States ("Georgia, to be exact") who's taking a gap year in between college and high school because "I'm not sure I know what I wants to do with my life, but I'll be fucked if they'll pressure me into doing something that I'm not ready for." Sitting across from the Colosseum and watching the tourists sweat in the July heat, Bradley thinks he loves her, just a little.
3. He runs into Colin (randomly, he swears it was random) in a pub in Dublin. He's sitting in the middle of what has got to be the most touristy place in all Ireland; there are shamrocks everywhere and the whole place is covered in Celtic knots. Bradley, who's heard Colin's drunken rants on shamrocks, which are hysterical, partially because Colin is really too soft spoken to be taken seriously when he rants and partially because drunken Colin has a tendency to forget that he's holding a beer and will spill it all over himself at some point in the evening, raises his eyebrow at the decor. However, the food is fine and the All Blacks are playing the Irish national side on the telly, and Bradley isn't that picky. The last Bradley heard, Colin was in London, doing some stage work, so it makes no sense that he's in Ireland. "Hey," Colin says after he taps Bradley on the shoulder to get his attention.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Bradley replies, because quite frankly, he's never been accused of huge amounts of tact, and the last person he expects to see in this shitty Irish pub is Colin fucking Morgan. Well, that's not quite true, but he's stopped expecting to see Merlin every time he turns around a while ago, and funnily enough, that thought doesn't hurt as much as it used to. Now it's like the dull twinge of a scar during winter rather than the sharp burn of a cut tendon. It hurts, sure, but it's something he knows how to live with. So while he might have been thinking about Colin, that's no surprise, because lots of things make him think about Colin. That doesn't mean he expects to see him.