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Bank Holiday Weekend
May. 7th, 2007 02:34 pmI did, as threatened, escaped back to Wales.
I'm typing this sitting in the smallest single room evah, feet propped up on a white stool (which goes in the shower, in case you are too infirm to stand) looking out of a window over Cardigan Bay; with Renaissance of the Celtic Harp playing on the iBook, listening and watching the grey sea go out.
Saturday was lovely so I drove to Aberdaron, as far west as you can get without falling off the end of Wales.
Gloriously sunny, I walked the whole bay, about 2 miles on golden empty sand. I sat in the lee of the rocks when I ran out of beach, ate an apple and watched the sand fleas and teeny little red mites. Sand fleas do look and jump just like fleas but no bites so I assume that's the end of the similarities between them and real fleas?
I couldn't get as far along as I did last year, when I ran away after Gytha died; the tide was exceptionally far out on that day, I accessed caves I've never seen there before, including one which looked like a womb of the world.
Astonishing how empty the beaches are once you are more than 200 llath from the pub/shop/steps onto the beach. Not that I, or the half dozen other people I met were complaining. Young angler, gave me the knowing nod as a thank you for walking round his line, was all of 10, do they teach 'em the 'anglers nod' that early? Evidently so.
Back down the Llyn to Criccieth.
Staying at a hotel in a time warp, it's Life on Mars all over again. Caerwylan Hotel is where I bring Mum in the summer. Most of it's clientele are in their 70's. The decor hasn't been significantly updated in thirty years. It's friendly and quiet. It has a nail and string picture on the wall in the lounge.
My room is tiny, 8 foot by about 15, cut out of the larger room next door, I'd guess. I haven't had such a tiny bedroom since I was Guest Of Honour at an Eastercon, but at least this one has a view, rather than overlooking the tyre dump, which caught fire and filled the room with the delightful odour of burnt rubber. It has it's own shower room, which is the width of the shower (I know know how people who live in the houses we build feel) it's clean, even if the wall paper is offensively floral. And the view couldn't be bettered if I was at The Ritz. There's a kettle and some antique tea bags dating back to the 70's but I always carry spare PG TIps for such emergencies. No interweb, tiny little 14" TV with choice of two BBC's, ITV and S4c but Pobol Y Cwm, doesn't hold much attraction so play music on iBook and clear out in box which has about 300 emails backed up in it.
The whole hotel go to bed at 10.30 and get up at eight. I can tell this by the flushing of loos and the turning on of showers, you can hear pipes vibrate every time someone in the 30 or so bedrooms flushes.
Cloudy on Sunday, drove down to Machynlleth, the stretch of road after the Cross Foxes, where the valley opens up before you, is one of the most beautiful views in the world, this is Owl Service country. Along to Aberdyfi to a sweet little deli cum cafe for a latte and bara brith, bit of culture clash there! Watched the parking Nazi's stalking those foolish to stay longer than 45 mins in the free parking zone, what a good way to encourage people to stay in your picturesque fishing village, chaps.
Driving through Abermaw is bedlam, families, kids, inflatable dinghy's everywhere, the weather is grey and smattering of rain. The British on holiday will not be discouraged by mere weather, families camp on beaches with wind breaks or high tech dome tents and posh swim suits for kids (made like wet suits) are as good for keeping the rain out as for keeping the sun off.
Tonight's evening meal was melon and sorbet or prawn cocktail as a starter and for the main, I had the braised black Welsh beef, which was beautiful, even if the veg are boiled into submission (I like my veg to be barely warmed through, but I'm sure the majority of the visitors like them soft so they don't get under the dentures) Spotted dick, apple and blackberry pie or three colours of ice cream for dessert. Most of the diners are old couples or young couples with an elderly relative attached. Took Anansi Boys down to dinner, good but not stella like American Gods. I stand out as mad purple hippy, everyone too senile or too polite to comment. Staff all Welsh or Lithuanian, both practice English on us. But they will bring me pot of tea with two tea bags so I'm sorted.
I had a walk on beach after dinner. Forgot to bring a coat, it's a bit parky out there, fortunately, voluminous purple hippy clothes can be layered and half bottle of house red is as good as Readybrek for creating warm glow.
The woods are hazy with bluebells and trees are every shade of green ever imagined.
FF
I'm typing this sitting in the smallest single room evah, feet propped up on a white stool (which goes in the shower, in case you are too infirm to stand) looking out of a window over Cardigan Bay; with Renaissance of the Celtic Harp playing on the iBook, listening and watching the grey sea go out.
Saturday was lovely so I drove to Aberdaron, as far west as you can get without falling off the end of Wales.
Gloriously sunny, I walked the whole bay, about 2 miles on golden empty sand. I sat in the lee of the rocks when I ran out of beach, ate an apple and watched the sand fleas and teeny little red mites. Sand fleas do look and jump just like fleas but no bites so I assume that's the end of the similarities between them and real fleas?
I couldn't get as far along as I did last year, when I ran away after Gytha died; the tide was exceptionally far out on that day, I accessed caves I've never seen there before, including one which looked like a womb of the world.
Astonishing how empty the beaches are once you are more than 200 llath from the pub/shop/steps onto the beach. Not that I, or the half dozen other people I met were complaining. Young angler, gave me the knowing nod as a thank you for walking round his line, was all of 10, do they teach 'em the 'anglers nod' that early? Evidently so.
Back down the Llyn to Criccieth.
Staying at a hotel in a time warp, it's Life on Mars all over again. Caerwylan Hotel is where I bring Mum in the summer. Most of it's clientele are in their 70's. The decor hasn't been significantly updated in thirty years. It's friendly and quiet. It has a nail and string picture on the wall in the lounge.
My room is tiny, 8 foot by about 15, cut out of the larger room next door, I'd guess. I haven't had such a tiny bedroom since I was Guest Of Honour at an Eastercon, but at least this one has a view, rather than overlooking the tyre dump, which caught fire and filled the room with the delightful odour of burnt rubber. It has it's own shower room, which is the width of the shower (I know know how people who live in the houses we build feel) it's clean, even if the wall paper is offensively floral. And the view couldn't be bettered if I was at The Ritz. There's a kettle and some antique tea bags dating back to the 70's but I always carry spare PG TIps for such emergencies. No interweb, tiny little 14" TV with choice of two BBC's, ITV and S4c but Pobol Y Cwm, doesn't hold much attraction so play music on iBook and clear out in box which has about 300 emails backed up in it.
The whole hotel go to bed at 10.30 and get up at eight. I can tell this by the flushing of loos and the turning on of showers, you can hear pipes vibrate every time someone in the 30 or so bedrooms flushes.
Cloudy on Sunday, drove down to Machynlleth, the stretch of road after the Cross Foxes, where the valley opens up before you, is one of the most beautiful views in the world, this is Owl Service country. Along to Aberdyfi to a sweet little deli cum cafe for a latte and bara brith, bit of culture clash there! Watched the parking Nazi's stalking those foolish to stay longer than 45 mins in the free parking zone, what a good way to encourage people to stay in your picturesque fishing village, chaps.
Driving through Abermaw is bedlam, families, kids, inflatable dinghy's everywhere, the weather is grey and smattering of rain. The British on holiday will not be discouraged by mere weather, families camp on beaches with wind breaks or high tech dome tents and posh swim suits for kids (made like wet suits) are as good for keeping the rain out as for keeping the sun off.
Tonight's evening meal was melon and sorbet or prawn cocktail as a starter and for the main, I had the braised black Welsh beef, which was beautiful, even if the veg are boiled into submission (I like my veg to be barely warmed through, but I'm sure the majority of the visitors like them soft so they don't get under the dentures) Spotted dick, apple and blackberry pie or three colours of ice cream for dessert. Most of the diners are old couples or young couples with an elderly relative attached. Took Anansi Boys down to dinner, good but not stella like American Gods. I stand out as mad purple hippy, everyone too senile or too polite to comment. Staff all Welsh or Lithuanian, both practice English on us. But they will bring me pot of tea with two tea bags so I'm sorted.
I had a walk on beach after dinner. Forgot to bring a coat, it's a bit parky out there, fortunately, voluminous purple hippy clothes can be layered and half bottle of house red is as good as Readybrek for creating warm glow.
The woods are hazy with bluebells and trees are every shade of green ever imagined.
FF
