It rained in Welshpool, it rained in Newtown, it rained in Llangurig and it rained in Aberystwyth as we reached the coast and the road swung south towards our destination. To our right the sea was grey and uninviting, lashed with spiteful squalls of stinging rain as wave after wave of dark clouds swept in from the Irish Sea and it was about now that I was forced to concede that we probably wouldn’t be having a barbeque this evening.
Because the weather had been so appallingly bad it was difficult to imagine that it could possibly get any worse (unless the World had slipped of its axis overnight and Wales was now in the Caribbean hurricane belt) and inevitably (even the met office could have predicted this) there was some degree of improvement in the morning when Molly woke me at six o’clock and declared it time to get up. It was still unseasonally cold and the sky was cloudy and we needed the heating on in the cottage but at least it was white cloud and the only dampness was a bit of early morning sea mist.
Posted in Childhood, Europe, History, Natural Environment, Travel, Wales
Tagged Aberaeron, Aberystwyth, Cardigan, Vale of Rheidol Light Railway, Wales
Have Bag, Will Travel 