Thursday 1st July day 7
Morning arrived grey and overcast but soon gave way to drizzle and biting cold. Now, this is the Wales in summer we were expecting! It was time for a quiet day and Llangllogen would have us for another night. We found a cafe with wifi and spent the day doing all the planning and booking we were to do with the free day we would have had in London if the plane was on time.
We then retired to the canal boat where we briskly set about staring out the windows at the drizzle.
In light of nothing else constructive to do and, in preparation for the Peddars Way walk next week, I set about lightening my backpack of additional weight by ensuring that I would not be carrying the full litre of duty free 15yo Glenfiddich. Somewhat later that evening, I realised that the raindrops falling outside were actually the tears of despair of Wales, trying to express its own individuality after years of suppression. I yelled from the canal boat window that “to be Welsh is to be proud” and “it is time to rise up and claim your place in the world”, which actually came out “ffywlld llwfrd dwlup cnncffyt cnff na” which, apparently, means something else entirely in Welsh.
They were actually just raindrops, I’d had far too much whisky. I apologised to the retirees in the next mooring and went to bed.
Friday 2nd July day 8
Hagar was up for it, so we wound her up to 3 knots and with agonising slowness, Llangollen disappeared behind us. We made our way back over the foncillycte (or whatever the crap it is) aqueduct and was once again staggered by the engineering and the shear beauty of the view from the boat. We made our way to a pub called Jack Mytons, stopping on the way to take a walk up to Chirk Castle. Daniel impatiently decided to set out on his own as we were taking far to long to prepare. Morgan tried to catch up with him but he decided he would rather be alone and broke into a run. Morgan decided to come back and walk with us.
That was the last we saw of Daniel for quite some time.
Kath, Morgan and myself made our way to the castle via a trail that led through pastures always upwards, carefully avoiding the cow and sheep dung that lay in abundance on the ground. We found the castle and had a little wander around occasionally wondering where our son might be. After a couple of hours, we decided that we should head back to the boat as Daniel might have got lost and returned there. Morgan and myself returned via the farm trail while Kathy took the road in case he was wandering in traffic again. A little way down the trail, Morgan and myself ran into a distraught Daniel who upon seeing us through himself to the ground in amongst the dung saying “frigging Wales, I want to go home, stupid sheep, bloody cows, I just want to see the castle”. Morgan and myself briefly attempted sympathy before laughing uncontrollably.
Apparently Daniel had seen quite a bit of the country side but failed to locate the castle. We sent him in the right direction and continued down the trail sobbing at the cows and sheep “friggin Wales, I just want to see the castle” and giggling. We are bastards!
Saturday 3rd July day 9
I awoke alone in the bed after Kathy decided to sleep on the lounge after I may have escalated a water fight beyond reasonable retaliation. I was ok with that, she was actually quite wet.
We made our way through Ellesmere, were we stocked up supplies and unsuccessfully attempted to locate a castle, to our chosen mooring location of bridge 35 which on the map had a castle nearby. We spent the twilight hours of the day tramping through farming pasture lands following a vaguely posted trail, finding nothing. Daniel made friend with some cows. He is under the impression that they think he is a god of some sort but I think he just looked like their farmer. I don’t know why they all backed up to him.
Sunday 4th July day 10
I’d had enough of running into bridges and such so I handed over the helm to Daniel so he could hit some stuff. We banged our way back to the Vikings Afloat marina and bid good riddance to Hagar, walked into Whitchurch and caught a progression of 4 trains to get us to Thetford ready for the start of the Peddars Way walk tomorrow. Man, it’s good to be on something that doesn’t rock.
Morning arrived grey and overcast but soon gave way to drizzle and biting cold. Now, this is the Wales in summer we were expecting! It was time for a quiet day and Llangllogen would have us for another night. We found a cafe with wifi and spent the day doing all the planning and booking we were to do with the free day we would have had in London if the plane was on time.
We then retired to the canal boat where we briskly set about staring out the windows at the drizzle.
In light of nothing else constructive to do and, in preparation for the Peddars Way walk next week, I set about lightening my backpack of additional weight by ensuring that I would not be carrying the full litre of duty free 15yo Glenfiddich. Somewhat later that evening, I realised that the raindrops falling outside were actually the tears of despair of Wales, trying to express its own individuality after years of suppression. I yelled from the canal boat window that “to be Welsh is to be proud” and “it is time to rise up and claim your place in the world”, which actually came out “ffywlld llwfrd dwlup cnncffyt cnff na” which, apparently, means something else entirely in Welsh.
They were actually just raindrops, I’d had far too much whisky. I apologised to the retirees in the next mooring and went to bed.
Friday 2nd July day 8
Hagar was up for it, so we wound her up to 3 knots and with agonising slowness, Llangollen disappeared behind us. We made our way back over the foncillycte (or whatever the crap it is) aqueduct and was once again staggered by the engineering and the shear beauty of the view from the boat. We made our way to a pub called Jack Mytons, stopping on the way to take a walk up to Chirk Castle. Daniel impatiently decided to set out on his own as we were taking far to long to prepare. Morgan tried to catch up with him but he decided he would rather be alone and broke into a run. Morgan decided to come back and walk with us.
That was the last we saw of Daniel for quite some time.
Kath, Morgan and myself made our way to the castle via a trail that led through pastures always upwards, carefully avoiding the cow and sheep dung that lay in abundance on the ground. We found the castle and had a little wander around occasionally wondering where our son might be. After a couple of hours, we decided that we should head back to the boat as Daniel might have got lost and returned there. Morgan and myself returned via the farm trail while Kathy took the road in case he was wandering in traffic again. A little way down the trail, Morgan and myself ran into a distraught Daniel who upon seeing us through himself to the ground in amongst the dung saying “frigging Wales, I want to go home, stupid sheep, bloody cows, I just want to see the castle”. Morgan and myself briefly attempted sympathy before laughing uncontrollably.
Apparently Daniel had seen quite a bit of the country side but failed to locate the castle. We sent him in the right direction and continued down the trail sobbing at the cows and sheep “friggin Wales, I just want to see the castle” and giggling. We are bastards!
Saturday 3rd July day 9
I awoke alone in the bed after Kathy decided to sleep on the lounge after I may have escalated a water fight beyond reasonable retaliation. I was ok with that, she was actually quite wet.
We made our way through Ellesmere, were we stocked up supplies and unsuccessfully attempted to locate a castle, to our chosen mooring location of bridge 35 which on the map had a castle nearby. We spent the twilight hours of the day tramping through farming pasture lands following a vaguely posted trail, finding nothing. Daniel made friend with some cows. He is under the impression that they think he is a god of some sort but I think he just looked like their farmer. I don’t know why they all backed up to him.
Sunday 4th July day 10
I’d had enough of running into bridges and such so I handed over the helm to Daniel so he could hit some stuff. We banged our way back to the Vikings Afloat marina and bid good riddance to Hagar, walked into Whitchurch and caught a progression of 4 trains to get us to Thetford ready for the start of the Peddars Way walk tomorrow. Man, it’s good to be on something that doesn’t rock.
No comments:
Post a Comment