Bala. Everyone's trip will be greatly enlivened by that impending sense of doom as you walk into any of the local pubs. That slaughtered lamb moment as all the cross-eyed hunchbacks turn and stare at you in unison, blinking in disbelief at your bizarre, unrecognisable form, with your ten toes, non-webbed fingers, and only two arms.
What fate will your future hold? As you cower at the bar, while the locals sniff you, like dogs. Will they feel threatened by you, and beat you to death with splintered bones, like the monkeys at the beginning of 2001, only less intelligent. Or... horror of horrors... will they see an opportunity to widen their stagnant-since-the-dawn-of-time gene pool puddle, by attempting to breed with you