Caravan

We took a trip to Wales this week, driving up for my dad’s wedding. We stopped off at a few picturesque points along the way. The Honey Cafe in Abergavenny is a traditional stopping point for us. It’s changed hands a couple of times since my first memory of it, but it’s remained a nice place (clean and reasonably priced) to stretch our legs and grab a bite to eat. After that we broke at a little stream in the hills. And several times for sheep in the road, of course.

We broke down about half an hour from our destination. Of course it was at Devil’s Bridge, narrowly avoiding a dramatic swerve around the side of the hotel as the brakes on the car overheated (thank you mountain roads). It was probably retribution for all the times we failed to wave to the devil whilst crossing over as kids. Although really it was the best place to break down as we were able to use the phone in the hotel to call for help.

Eventually we arrived after about 4 hours of driving (thankfully not me – not having a license has its benefits) and checked into our accommodation before joining my dad and step-mother to be in the pub for a few drinks. If you’re ever around Aberystwyth way, take a drive to the Halfway Inn in Pisgah, because it’s a lovely place with views out over the valley, and a spooky reputation. We stayed in a caravan just above it, with some rather noisy and overly friendly neighbours who ate all our carrots.

The wedding went well. It was blowing a fierce gale the morning of, but it calmed down for the afternoon and no one’s hat was swept away. It was a nice little family get-together with wine and food and much catching up with each other, and just a little bit of the bitching that usually goes hand in hand with family (sigh).

Oh, and the wedding cake was a pork pie. Obviously.

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Caravan

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