We got up at half 3 in the morning today. We normally do this, and, in the past, I have fallen back to sleep. Not this year. For reasons unbeknownst to me, I stayed wide awake for the whole 200-odd mile journey. Gay.
As the flatline of England erupted into the hills and valleys of Wales, I noticed something strange. Wales, as we know, is traditionally grey and wet. So you can imagine my surprise when it was clear and bright. Sunny, in laymans terms. In awe, I stared for what seemed an eternity. The bright blue sky slowly darkened to tungsten grey and then the inevitable happened. It rained. Y'know that saying that goes 'If it looks too good to be true, it probably is'? Yeah.
We eventually got to the site where we would be spending the next two weeks. It was still raining. Since we couldn't put the awning up, we ventured into Llandudno (pronounced Clan-did-no) for some breakfast, and in the hope the rain would subside. We found a pub that had acoustics that would make the Wyvern theatre weep. Admittedly, it was a converted theatre we went to, but impressive nonetheless.
By this time, it was about 11am (we'd been in Wales for about 3 hours), but the number of people drinking beggared belief (and by 'drinking', I mean alcoholic drinks). Everywhere you looked there were people holding glasses of beer/lager/piss. And in the midst of it all, there we were drinking coffee (bar Adolf, who doesn't drink hot drinks. At all. Wierdo)
Got back to the site, and the rain had almost stopped- it was half-arsed drizzle, so we just stuck the awning up anyway. Oh, how I love being a caravanist.
Mo
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