Welshy Wales

 
 
 
Didn't want this week's gloomy post to overshadow the very lovely weekend we had in sunny (yes really) Wales with Mr, Mrs and Minimus Martin over the Bank Hol.

Was a splendid reminder that:

1. 4 hours walking simply has to be interspersed with a pub stop, sit down, food or preferably a combination of all the above. The 3 meanies made me hoof it for 9 miles before plugging a Diet Coke and bowl of soup into my poor starving jaw-on-the-floor gob.

2. There is never a reason to have those funny pelmet things over the curtain rail, even in a country house hotel. Am sure it's a haven for multi-legged Taffy beasties of the night.

3. Hawksey needs more than 1 foot of spare space around the bed - just ask the bedside flask of water, glass and most of the side table that went flying

4. An 'all you want' Sunday afternoon tea is a recipe for dieting disaster. They may supply very small plates to load your scran onto, but the 'imagine you're in a pizza place' pile the salad bowl as high as possible' principle comes back like Billy-oh from your student days….

5. Caving makes your knees very sore and is harder than you'd think. And apparently I look like a Pacman or a water boatman on its back, trying to move forward frantically using all 4 limbs with lack of co-ordination in very low spaces and not getting anywhere fast.

6. Caving also lets you know you are officially old, when the 20 somethings in the group encouragingly say 'go on, you can do it' when faced with the 'Washing Machine' bit of the cave (dark tunnel, rushing freezing water, all enclosed, lots of pokey-down bits trying to smash your teeth). I had just become the 40 something person that I (probably) used to patronise when I was young and carefree, bastards.

7. Giant logs are always much easier to bound up than to get back down again – they double in size and become much wobblier the moment you get to the top, eek.

8. A tandem should be re-named the 'ankle-thrasher'. Not only does the rear person not get to steer, nor see beyond the back of the one in front, but the bloody pedals are controlled by the fronty too…. cue wild churning of pedals that you can;t get your feet back onto and lots of swearing.

9. A kipper is worth having for breakfast as a once-in-every-three-years-only-in-a-hotel-or-your-house-reeks treat – and its all those frigging tiny bones that put you off again for the next 35 months.

10. Monkey, Mango and the Microbe are splendid weekend chums (just hope our appearance having hastily downed about half a bottle of gin before dinner didn't put you off us too much!)

Photos to come as soon as I extract them from the over-protective camera of mystery… (DONE!)

S x