Well my long awaited holiday is over already. I never said it was a cruise. Its brevity was only exceeded by its Welshiality.
I’m almost too sad to post. Well almost. But then I remembered you.
(no not you)
– the Welsh – they’re great and have lovely accents.
– stumbling on the British Ironworks Centre which was like something out of The Prisoner. Loads of top notch iron sculptures arranged within sprawling grounds, plus a very cool cafe filled with iron curiosities and a live singer/pianist. Here’s one of their sculptures made from the fruit of British police knife amnesties:
– 2 escaped lambs frolicking in a lane. When we stopped the car to admire them they challenged the car and bleeted at us till we buggered off. I can only wonder at what they were trying to say.
– amazing views of Welsh valleys
– staying in a 400 year old hotel in a tiny village in the valleys. I kept banging my head and the floors and windows were strange. I thought I might see a ghost but no, there were none.
– a king’s breakfast: I had literally everything it was possible for a person to have – the muesli, an apple, orange juice, toast, tea, and a full English breakfast.
– a big cherry tree covered in cherry blossom by a stream with the valley in the background.
– skimming stones on the sea at Barmouth – not my best work, but I got a couple to skip a few times.
– going for a beer at 10:30pm and still being able to have 3 pints even though they were supposed to stop serving at 11pm.
– pronouncing impossible Welsh road signs along the route. Here’s a typical example:
– whistling the Star Trek theme at a cafe. There was no reason for this, but I did quite a faithful rendition and it made me happy.
– stroking a friendly dog who ran up to me on the beach
– that dog I stroked on the beach lept over the sea wall and attacked a lady and her dog 5 minutes later. Gulp. The owner ran after it and pulled it off but as far as I could tell he was somehow trying to blame the whole thing on her. Twat. If it had started on me, I would have run into the sea and tested its swimming abilities. Cos I know for sure it could outrun me on land. Next I’d have run into the games arcade and coaxed it onto the dance machine. DOGGY DANCE OFF!
– my brother driving way too fast on mountain roads with sheer drops on one side(my side obviously). I felt seriously sick and tried dropping hints which only seemed to egg him on more.
– getting up hungover after 4.5 ales and half a glass of expensive wine, and being tacitly accused of leading my brother astray by taking him to the pub(was his friggin idea!).
– breaking the shower in the hotel merely by trying to adjust the height. It snapped like a prawn cracker in my Hulk like power grip.
– straining to contain a facial tic and act sophisticated when the hotel barman charged me over £10 for a beer and a glass of wine.
– getting stared at by a crazy old Chris Tarrant impersonator for no reason at dinner AND breakfast. Weird bastard.
– a man with two dogs – a big border collie and a little lap dog – throwing a ball for them. Both dogs would run to get it, but the little one didn’t stand a chance and wasn’t even half way there by the time the collie got it. I felt really sad for him and wanted to go and sabotage the collie, or give him robot leg extensions. I was powerless though. All I could do was watch.
– watching all the couples and feeling like the last single person on the face of the earth. One lady was staring at me, but I’m fairly sure she was a lesbian who just found me odd.
Anyway that’s it. My micro holiday is over. And now I’m really sad. I would upload some photographs and post them but frankly., I’m just too sad to do it. It will just bring all the memories back and I’ll cry.
It’s so horrible where I live. It’s like Hell compared to holiday. I want to live on holiday all the time.