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Day 19 – Landrillo – Wolverhampton – Edinburgh
A day of three countries. Started with another fine breakfast at TL, more laverbread, bacon, black pudding and other breakfasty goodness. Overall the food has been pretty good here, possibly slightly below other Michelin-starred experiences but still very fine. Packing up the car we caught a good sight of many of our fellow guests, shooters up for a bit of peasant/pheasant or grouse. Apparently they had a very poor day yesterday with the rain, no matter what the beaters did the birds weren’t moving. I’m no fan of bloodsport, but if they eat what they shoot that’s fine with me. They all looked pretty funny all dressed up in their…
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Day 18 (part 2) – Llandrillo, Snowdonia and Portmeirion
After farewelling mum, we headed off to Portmeirion, the seaside locale where weird and strange building features go to retire. Bizarre features, out of place architecture, statues that would otherwise be considered grotesque, and random hanging sheep signs are the norm here. So far, so weird. The place’s cool credentials come from being the location where The Prisoner, that fabulous piece of 1960s British SF starring Patrick McGoohan, was filmed. This allows the bizarre and grotesque to also be strangely familiar. It’s a cool, if strangely bizarre place, with groovy The Prisoner merchandise. From there it was a fairly easy drive back to the TL. L has insisted on driving,…
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Day 18 (part 1) – Goodbye Mum
We left our intrepid travellers at a restaurant with rooms, a weird, pokey old rabbit warren of a house boasting a pretty impressive kitchen. The water pressure in the shower/bath is not great, but the water does come in hot and cold so that’s pretty good as outside it’s a little brisk, aiming for a maximum temperature of 9. Back into the restaurant for breakfast, a bit of a fruit, juice and yogurt buffet with a full breakfast menu that really takes the cake. There are choices, choices and more choices. It’s easy for L, they had a yummy offering of smoked salmon and scrambled eggs practically calling out her…
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Day 17 – Bath – Llandrillo
With L’s Jane Austen habit temporarily sated, it’s time to head into the wilds of Wales. With sat nav coordinates a little too much like lost (LL21 0ST or something like that) it was looking like an opportunity to disappear into the valleys, or a coal mine somewhere. It was awesome to cross the Severn bridge into Wales, as it isn’t everyday a West Aussie gets to drive across a national border (even if it is a toll bridge). We then found it quite funny when the satnav took us almost straight out of Wales, into Herefordshire. It’s interesting to see that there is in many places a marked geographical…
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Day 16 – Bath
What’s more challenging than typing in a car hurtling through the High Atlas mountains? Typing in a car going along the A5 and associated roads in Wales, where they’re having a goodly amount of rain, some potholes, and curves that might trouble a Moroccan or two. Still, I’m geting a little behind on this blog so will try to catch up. At some point I’d like to get the creative juices flowing and write a little behind the scenes and about the whys and wherefores of travel blogging. How it’s hard to write about the past when the present is full of the most amazing scenery, and when you’re travelling…
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Day 15 – Charlton Horethorne – Bath, Boxing Day
After a light breakfast of tea and toast, and a pause to round up the troops, we were inviteed to take part in a tradition, the Boxing Day walk. By all accounts this tradition can involve being confronted by angry horses, cows, and other mishaps. While these aren’t guaranteed, they are not unexpected, either. Given the time it was a short walk, just up the nearby Cadbury Castle, an alleged site of Camelot. The path up is quite precarious and muddy, but no one slipped over. At the top are the remains of mud fortifications, an iron age hill fort. These made for a wonderful path to walk around and…
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Day 14 – Plymouth – Charlton Horethorne, Christmas Day
Awoke fairly early and swapped pressies over breakfast. Got an amazingly compressed travel towel from cousin R. Then it was time to pack up the car and hit the road. Things were a little cosy, as the four of us and luggage and pressies were in the Tiguan, but not unpleasantly so. We took a slight detour via the site of one of the old forts of Plymouth, where we took in the fine panorama of the town, Devonport, the Channel and the wonderful green inland. Back on the road we headed for Dorset, being wary of any Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstalls stopped alone the road searching for roadkill. Hugh may have…
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Day 13 – Plymouth, Christmas Eve
Woke up goodly rested this morning. Slowish morning, before a frantic trip to Drake’s shopping centre in central Plymouth for last minute stuff. Then great aunt J’s friend D invited us all over to have Christmas dinner with all the trimmings. ALL ot them. Started woth champagne and canapes, then pinot noir with turkey, onion and sage stuffing, chestnut and sausage meat stuffing, little rolled up bacon parcels, sausages, potatoes, brussel sprouts, carrots and parsnips, gravy and bread sauce, And then seconds. Then it was Christmas pudding, complete with 20p pieces, brandy butter and cream, followed by cheese, port, fruit and chocolate. All of it very tasty. And a toast…
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The other traveller
The travellers: First there’s me, and you’re reading about me here. Then there’s L, and you can get her take on things at http://twoweeksaway.wordpress.com/ We’ve also got a third companion, at least for another few days. Mum. When Mum passed away in May, one of the things we felt would be a good idea would be to scatter some of her ashes in Snowdonia, Wales. She used to go there for family vacations when she was young, and talked lots about the area, and how when she revisited about 10 years ago it hadn’t changed from the way she remembered it. The place meant a lot to her, and as…
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Day 12 – Marrakech to Plymouth
The last couple of days having got to me, and stuff and life and headachhes and not enough water meant that I was awake at 2.16am and never properly got back to sleep. Tried a number of ways, different positions, turning upside down on the bed, propping myself into a chair with a blanket, couldn’t get comfy, couldn’t relax, couldn’t shake the headache. Also the very bright blue LED display of the reverse cycle was driving me a little crazy, very bright and unrelenting. I think in that state most things were going to drive me a bit wacky. In one of these insomniac moments checking email I received my…
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Day 10 & 11 Marakesh
Mick Thomas got it right when he said, “there’s no point writing postcards on your bad days”, which is why there’s no post from yesterday. The first rule of travel is that change happens. The second thing is that it’s difficult to leave everything behind when travelling. Had we started our travels in Marrakech, I’m sure I’d be writing about how it”s a bustling, exotic and amazing location, full of life and good food. After 9 stunning days in the rest of Morocco, Marrakech is quite disappointing. It’s crowded, confusing, full of hustlers wanting to bargain over everything, men who want you to come look at their wares, often either…
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Day 9 Skoura – Marakesh
Typed while driving into the High Atlas mountains, so not all typos are due to my usual clumsy typing. High Atlas, wow, and we haven’t got close to the snow yet. These mountains aare quite steep, mostly barren — some trees but generally just shrubbery. The road is cut into the side of the cliff, with only a foot high cement barrier and some fairly regularly spaced red and yellow striped star pickets between us and the edge. We just passed a point 2600 metres above sea level, the Tischa pass, and now heading down a bit. There are small patches of ice in tyhe ravines. Woke up this morning…
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Day 8 Sahara – Skoura
Survived our night out in a Berber tent undder the stars — it only had a single layer of blanket for the roof so we could see stars through. The bed had at least 8 blankets on it, which made it warm but very heavy. L described it as having the cat asleep on you, but on every part of you. The bed was also quite hard, with contours in odd places. so overall it wasn’t the greatest night’s sleep I’ve ever had. On the other hand, annd more importantly, we were camping out overnight in the Sahara, no phones, internet access or electricity, just us, our Berber guides, and…
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Day 7 Erfoud – Sahara
Tonight your intrepid reporter sits in a Berber tent among the dunes of the Sahara, at a secret location that can only be accessed by camel. Ah bollocks, the truth is a little plainer than that but it’s still damn cool. We’re in a Berber tent, under the billions and billions of stars (thank you Carl Sagan) after a fairly short camel trek into the dunes east of Merzouga. We rode camels into the Sahara, how cool is that? And we’re in a tent under the stars. It’s pretty tres bien awesome. It’s so quiet, it makes space seem like a Deep Purple concert. We had the choice to get…
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Day 6 Fes – mountains
I’ve also been remiss in fully conveying the experience of driving through Morocco, especially the mountain country. There are several kinds of road signs giving advice on the road ahead. Some are a weird house type arrow with a perpendicular crossbar, and I have no idea what that means. Some are an s turned sideways, and I think this means some windy bends are coming. There are signs in arabic and french, and say something about hazardous roads ahead. There’s a sign with two cars, the car on the left is black, the car on the right is red. To me, the logical meaning of this is no overtaking, but…
