A planned trip to Wales was fraught with bad weather and ill tempers to match.
Besides all the usual checks around the home before departing, we had the animals to sort out and the farm to secure, all this for just one night! To me it all seemed so not worth it, and I was almost having a nervous breakdown by the time I sat in the car.
We set off around lunchtime with enough baggage for a 7 night stay in Greece. My daughter squealed a cry of dissapointment as we drove past the airport on route, with dreams shattered of a Grecian destination. Anyway, the rain was swirling with a strong gale force wind as we traveled almost blind down the motorway with no break in the heavy clouds. "Have you ever felt less like going anywhere in this weather?", I asked my hubby who was driving. His primeval cinical grunt told me no.
We arrived in Wales after around two hours of bickering and a mountain of disposed chocolate wrappers covering the floor. ****! We'd only been out for a couple of hours. I shudder to think what the consumption would have been if we'd traveled any further.
The whole day was planned around my parents who were the sole purpose of the journey. They were staying in a hotel in Conway and we decided to join them. Our hotel was 3 miles away in Llandudno, a little Welsh town not far from Canearfon where Prince Charles was crowned the Prince of Wales in the 1960s. I know that because I was there, well not at the function itself, but in the crowd of thousands who'd come to see the event. I was eight years old. I was telling the story to Stephanie who was more interested in how many shops there were than any kind of history.
We checked into our hotel, windswept, sodden and in need of some quality pampering. I spent an hour in a large hot bath only to find that I couldn't get out when I was well and truly wrinkly. Several attempts later I got out with a little help from my hubby, is this what my life has come to?
We spent the rest of the day just chilling in the lounge and then moving over to my parents' hotel in the evening. My dad was well into the swing of things, my mum wasn't sure where she was only that her feet were cold.
"That's the Big Orme" my dad said pointing to a small mountain which overlooks the Bay. I smiled and corrected him that actually, it's the Great Orme!
" Whatever, it looks big to me" he said.
We had an entertaining evening of old folks dancing to a singer, who in my opinion wanted shooting, he was soooo bad. My daughter's face provided me with all the entertainment I needed. It was an absolute picture, coupled with " When are we going" almost every 5 minutes or so.
Anyway, we returned to the sanctuary of our hotel at around 11.30 and unceremoniously went to bed.
So that was my one and only 24 hours in Wales. A forgettable experience, not for Wales itself which is beautiful with it's many castles and scenery. But just for one day, it's a trek, a trial and not to be attempted when the weather's bad.
Home sweet home, they say! Then again who are they ?