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3/11/15 (sunny)

We had  our last gym session before leaving. We managed to catch the manager there, and so we we put membership on hold until January. Packing and Lee-Anne gets all weepy about leaving her “poopies” behind. Bethy drove us to Canberra airport for more tearful farewells.

First flight was in a de-Havilland Dash 8. I love flying in twin props, it feels like real flying.

Going through customs at Sydney, I manage to drop all our spending money, several thousand dollars, on the floor. Lee-Anne not best pleased.

I picked it up rather sheepishly.

Second flight was on an Airbus 380, I’d not flown in one before. They are amazingly big, double-decker planes. We got three seats between us, which made it even more comfortable. Unfortunately all the movies on offer were shite. I watched “The Last Great Climb”. I was enjoying it, the climbing certainly seemed extreme, but then I realised that the camera was always above the climbers. Think about it.

I was trying to rest, when the silly cow in the seat behind me demanded I put my seat up vertically. I politely declined. She called the stewardess, who informed her that I was entitled to  recline when the plane was in flight. She kicked the back of my seat for a while, then changed seats. The twat.

We had a brief stop off at Dubai, and wondered about a bit, mainly just  getting lost. We saw some camel milk chocolate for sale. We didn’t buy any.

The next leg, Dubia to Heathrow we got three seats between us again. Someone was doing rally pungent farts all the way from Dubai to Heathrow. Not me for a change.

 

4/11/15 Arrive in Blighty (mainly drizzle.)

It was Lee-Anne.

At Heathrow customs they have a passport and face recognition scanner which makes for quick entry if you’re a Pom. I decided to use my British passport to go through this, so as to get our bags, while Lee-Anne went through with the rest of the foreigners. Lee-Anne was waiting for me at the bags, having gone through in half the time it took the sodding scanner to work out if my face was real or not.

 

Why are  people who work at car hire places such miserable twats? We had a particularly unpleasant one serve us. Mind you, the car was good, with heated seats and automatic windscreen wipers, both of which facilities got a great deal of use. We named it Dave.

We drove to Salisbury, only getting lost once.

Got a non-Cornish pasty in Salisbury, due to the EU laws on what can be called a Cornish pasty. We bought Sim cards, and got Lee-Anne’s phone unlocked,  in the shop of a  a funny little fat bloke. He seemed to have all Salisbury’s old people queuing in his shop, for him to  fix the technology they’d bust, they loved him for that.

We managed to get lost in Salisbury which meant we were late back to the car, but we didn’t get a parking ticket, for a change. The upside of this late return was watching some girlie crash her motor gently into a parked car, then burst into tears while leaving a note. Bless.

We drove to Devon. By god, the closer we got to our destination the more beautiful the scenery was, with a surprising amount of leaf still on the trees too. On the journey Lee-Anne was upset to see pheasant pate’ being made.

 

Photos from our stay in Newto Ferrers here.

We got to Newton Ferrers, and quite easily found the “Park Home” Nicol had set us up with, (see last blog.) I will admit that it was quite superb, bigger than our house in Cornwall.

Soon the old git himself arrived. He showed us his place, and his palatial campervan, and, sated on his good fortune, we retired to the Dolphin Inn. My first, but certainly not last fish and chips of the trip, and my first, and definitely not last decent pint of Pommy beer, was had there.

There was an old boy sat on a stool near the bar when Jenny walked in. What with her being rather tall (6′ 2″) , and her skirt being short,  her hemline was on a level with his eyes. I thought he was going to have a heart attack as she brushed by him.

Bed at 6.30pm.

5/11/15 (rains all day)

I was wide awake at 5.30 am, so I decided to text everyone with my new number, in the hope of waking them up.

We drove into Plymouth to buy bras and knickers, (her) and pasties (me.) Had a pasty in the rain in Plymouth shopping centre, cheese and mushroom. The guy at the pasty shop was amazed to find two Aussies eating his pasties, in the rain, in Plymouth, and looking very happy about it. He told us so, we tried to explain how and why, but he just backed away. I was nostalgic as hell to be back in the city where it all started.

Bought a poppy.

Went shopping at Sainsbury’s, and were amazed at the cheapness of everything. Beers at 3 for a fiver? Get in there my son!

Nicol had loaned me his discount card for “Go Outdoors“. Seeing as the prices there were massively cheap compared to Australian ones, I bought two pairs of hiking boots, and a pair of hiking trousers. On top of the cheap prices, Nicol’s card got me over £40 off. I was rather happy.

After driving back we went for a walk with Nicol. It was a great walk, on a carriage track which was built in 1880 for the lord of the manor to drive his guests around the cliff tops. But although we were on cliff tops, directly above the sea most of the walk, we couldn’t see it due to the mists and rain. Perfect.

We stopped off in the Swan Inn  for a beer. Nice little pub, with an enormously fat landlady, which is always a good sign.

Jenny and Nicol came around to our shed that evening, Lee-Anne cooked for us.  Nicol introduced us to the concept of “vaping”. Immediately enthused, I went online and spent £160 quid on the best vaping machine I could find. I used it once, I haven’t used it since.

Bed at 8.30 pm

 

6/11/15 (rain and drizzle all day)

Up at 4.30 am.

Being awake that early, with fuck all to do but watch BBC news, I instead took myself off for a stroll around the village. I must admit I was rather envious of Nicol and Jenny living in such a lovely spot.

Mind you, seeing as people are prepared to spend £2 million on a small bungalow there, just to knock it down and build a McMansion in its place, I don’t think we’ll be in the market to move there any time soon.

That afternoon me and Nicol knocked off an 8 mile stomp, in the rain again, with again, no sight of the sea. That’s not bad for a guy with new boots on, you’ll agree? Lee-Anne stayed at home with her new found love, Mr Jeremy Kylie.

We stopped off at the Swan Inn again. There Comet, Nicol’s dog, who is a qualified care dog, (honest!) showed off his obedience tricks. If only I could train Nicol do to them.

Had a “nanna nap” in the afternoon.

The Park Home site which the Nicol’s  home is on had a bonfire and some fireworks that night. Great to be at a Guy Fawkes night which wasn’t hidebound by H&S rules, it rather took me back to my childhood bonfire nights.

 

 

 

 

 

 

We retired to the Dolphin Inn for food and beer after this. Much to everyone’s amusement I fell down the stairs there. As this was  before I’d even got pissed, it hurt. Lots.

Nicol and Jenny spent the night in their van.

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7/11/15 (rain all day.)

Lee-Anne awoke to an email from Bethy, informing her that her recent ambulance trip was going to cost us $902.00. The trip was less than a mile.

We cleaned up the Park Home, and left an Aussie Xmas card for the owner to keep him sweet, as we may want to hire the place again. We said our goodbyes to Nicol and Jenny, and wished them well for their forthcoming two month campervan / paragliding holiday in Portugal and Spain. We weren’t envious of them, after all, we were having a  two month stay in rainy Britain, beat that!

We had tickets to see John Otway that night, he was playing  in Frome. We made the sensible decision to stay in Frome overnight, rather than push on after the gig to Llanelli. We drove to Frome only to find each and every inn and pub we tried for lodgings was fully booked that night. Parking in the city centre car park I managed to hit someone’s tow hitch with Dave’s number plate, putting a spider web of cracks in it.  “Bang goes our insurance excess already,” said her indoors. We drove off quickly and  luckily found a Premier Inn outside the town, we booked in there.

We ate at the George Inn, not great, wouldn’t recommend.

OTWAY!!!!

Got to the gig early. After farting about getting beers in I noticed Otway had set himself up in a corner and was restringing his guitar. We went and had a chat with him, lovely man very sweet and obliging.

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lee-Anne was  a little in awe seeing and meeting him in the flesh for the first time, and having all her views on him from “Otway the Movie” confirmed. (i.e. he’s totally fucking loopy.) We tried talking him into coming to Aus to play, he told us it was a one of his ambitions. He agreed to stay with us if and when he came to Canberra.

His set is still as bonkers as ever, including his famous double-neck guitar, roadie and microphone abuse, and leaping off ladders. Seriously, if you’ve not seen him live, go now!!

 

 

Coming off after his set, he approached me and asked; “do you think that was alright?” Fuck me, what a bloke!! I think I told him I loved him, and that he remains my number one musical hero, how he was the inspiration to a whole generation of musical incompetents like me, and that his set verged on perfection. We did stop to watch a bit of Wishbone Ash’s set after Otway, but I was too pissed to stay for it all. The average age of the audience was 60+, oh me oh my, we’re getting old gang.

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8/11/15 (persistent drizzle.)

We drove to Llanelli that morning, stopping only at a services to buy some grub. Somehow I ended up with “Brie and Grape” sarnies. Brie and fucking grape? This is supposed to be Wales FFS!

We met Sian, the owner of “Arwel Y Don,  our digs for that week, at the place itself.

She, and they, were lovely. After unpacking we grabbed a bunch of flowers each for my sister and mother, at Marks and Sparks, as a peace offering. Not that we had done anything wrong, well, not yet anyway.

We drove to Louise’s. She had a box of stuff we had left  with her after our last UK trip. Also I’d bought a bunch of stuff off Amazon UK to be delivered there. Big mugs, charging plugs, sharp knives, a grater etc. I’d ordered a new screen for my kindle, but had got the wrong size, typical. That went straight in the bin.  One thing that was waiting for me was a bottle of Adnams Broadside whisky. This had been purchased on my behalf, (I paid, obvs,) by a guy I’d never met, just knew via a debate forum. He’d also kindly delivered to Louise’s. Amazing what people will do for strangers?!?!?

Getting to my Mam’s we were amazed how small she’d got, she’s now a very tiny person.

  

We spent some time there catching up with family gossip, mainly who wasn’t talking to who. Bless her, Mam had bought us some salad rolls, proper Llanelli salad too, and had also got us a huge pack of tea bags, so big it lasted until the last week of our trip.

That night fancying a quiet night in after the travelling, we watched, for the first time, “Come Dine With Me”. This made us feel so sophisticated, erudite, intelligent, good looking and such great cooks that we decided to watch it as often as possible. (Lee-Anne is still watching it back here, via youtube!)

Bed at 8.30 pm

9/11/15 (Windy with showers.)

Up at 5.00 am

Took a walk on the mudflats which pass for a beach at Machynys, wishing my boys were with me. Houses, four bedroom ones, with sea views and balconies’, can be picked up here for under £300,000.  I’ll take two then.

We went to Marks and Sparks on the out of town retail park for stuff for breakfast, (there’s posh!) While there found that the gym we use when in Llanelli, DW Gyms, would do us a day pass for £10, fucking ace! We drove around to Mam’s, collected her and Louise, and brought them over to critique the flat we were staying at.

To be fair, apart from absolutely everything about it, the location, the tiled floors, the furnishings, the decor, the fittings etc, they quite liked it. “I wouldn’t have one though,” said Mam, who has, unsurprisingly,  lived in the same house for over 50 years.

We hit the gym that afternoon, and had a great workout and a sauna. Bliss.

That evening my oldest mate, Jamesy came around. He pulled up outside, I was waiting to show him in; “Has he lost weight?” I wondered to myself. “I bet you’re thinking I’ve put on weight,” he stated, so I said nowt. We made plans for a piss up at his place.

Bed at 9.00 pm.

 

10/11/15 (Persistent showers.)

Sleep until 6.00 am.

We planned a menu for that night, as we were having Wynn and Jac over the next night. Shopping at Tesco it was very annoying to find Aussie wine, good stuff, not piss, at cheaper prices than we could get at home.

Went around to Mam’s. There, while in the middle of a conversation my mind drifted. Coming back to attention, I think Lee-Anne kicked me, I found Mam going on about; “She only put the baby down for a second, and when she looked back someone had taken her. They’re still looking for the child, it makes me weep it really does.” I was wondering who in the family had been the victim of a child kidnapper. It took me a god five minutes to realise she’d been talking about happenings on “Pobl Y Cwm”, the Welsh soap opera.

“It’s not real Mam, it’s make believe, it’s only TV.”
“I know that, but it’s real to me, I get too involved.”

That night we went to Jamesy and Rachel’s place. Him and Rachel fed us, great chilli, (but was there beef stock in it?) It was fab to catch up with Helen, who we’d met on a Sennen trip some years past, who was also visiting. Jamesy’s son Rob  Ben was also there, somehow I mistook him for a stranger. I thought I’d got away with it, I hadn’t.

(I didn’t get away with calling him “Rob” on this blog either, his father somehow noticed my error.)

Later that evening I was rudely awoken by Jamesy putting a whisky under my nose. It smelled great, so I sank it. Hang about, why had I been asleep on Jamesy’s sofa? I’d only had three glasses of wine, honest, must have been the old jetlag obviously.  Mixing whisky with red wine is fatal to me, (I never mix the grain and the grape,) and so it proved the next morning. I’ve still not forgiven Jamesy for this.

We took a taxi back to the flat, stopping only to have wrestle with a girl who insisted on sharing the fare with us. I don’t know who she was, perhaps Jamesy does.

 

 

11/11/15 (showers, strong winds.)

I woke up late, with a merciless hangover from all hell. All Jamesy’s fault. We didn’t go to the gym as we’d planned to.

I took a trip into town to catch up with Charlie at the Avo cafe. Neat little cafe I’d not been there before. (Mind you it would have got a better Tripadvisor rating off me if they’d manage to actually have available half the stuff on the menu. ) I settled for Welsh rarebit, as  it turned out it was dead proper rarebit too.  Fab to catch up with Chas, and many plans were made for later in the holiday.

That afternoon I visited Mam on my own, Lee-Anne was still suffering form the night before. This turned out to be dead handy as there were several things she wanted to have a “heart to heart” talk about , mainly what she wanted of me; “after I’m gone.” We reached agreements on this.

Getting back to the flat, and the wind blew my specs right off, the first time this has ever happened to me. It fucked them, I tried wearing them, but they left scratches on the left side of my nose. Luckily I had a spare pair, these left scratches on the right side of my nose.

We entertained Wynn and Jac that night. When I say entertained I mean, “gibbered at incoherently”, as we were still suffering from the night before. We managed to cook some grub, at best we could say it didn’t give them food poisoning. Sorry guys!

 

12/11/15 (sun spotted briefly, then heavy rain.)

After texting my cousin Dewi, and dropping in to Mam and Louise, we headed off to Pembroke. We stopped off at Tenby and had breakfast at Blueberries. By now it was blowing a gale and peeing down. While we were sitting in the mostly empty cafe, a group of old women came in. Well half in. They stood there debating which table to sit at, with half of them in the cafe, and half out in the rain. The wind through the door they were holding open was blowing salt cellars off the tables and the pictures off the walls. After ten minutes debate they decided to sit at the only table that had dirty plates and mugs on it. Fuck me pink.

We drove on to Pembroke and met up with our friends Jane and Vivienne. Had a lovely afternoon with them, catching up on stuff. We had lunch at the Stackpole Inn, I had fish and chips again.

We went to see St Govan’s chapel, a medieval monks hermitage. This is on St Govan’s head, a place I’ve managed to avoid rock climbing at all my life.

Then they took us on a walk on the beach that “Dobby “ died on in the Harry Potboiler film. (Showing the image to Bethy made her burst into tears, I’m a right bastard me.) By now the rain was so heavy it was hurting.

 

 

 

 

We drove back to Llanelli. My perspectives on the size of Wales, and the amount of time it tales to get places is very much coloured by the fact that I haven’t lived there for thirty years, (the roads have improved a bit in that time, not much, but a bit.) Even when I had lived in the area, my father never owned a car. Therefore I thought it would take a good two hours, to get back. It took 55 minutes. That evening  Dewi, Vanessa, and Ryan came around. (I hadn’t seen Dewi since my father’s funeral, I’d never met his wife and son before!) We had a great old time catching up and chewing the fat. Great to be back in contact with them.

 

13/11/15 (drizzle all day)

Made it to the gym. On arriving there we bumped into John English, a guy I was at school with, and someone  who  I hadn’t seen in 35 years. He asked; “You still living in Australia?” Which made me wonder who has been talking about me.

We dropped Louise and Mam at M&S, and hit town. We changed $ into £ at a pawn shop. I took Lee-Anne to the Avo cafe. They still could only offer 1/10 of what was on the menu. Gits. We went back to M&S to collect Louise and Mam, hoping to get there before Louise killed Mam, (Mam could dither for Wales.)

I managed to sneakily pay for Mam’s shopping, which was a pair of slippers. She hates me doing that, so I do it as often as I can.

That night we hit the Thomas Arms. Lee-Anne had “faggots and peas” there, her first time for that traditional Welsh dish, she pronounced it “lush”.

The crew arrived, I paced myself. We split into two tables, birds on one, guys at another, traditional innit! The Thomas Arms had a singer on, singing to backing tapes. Of course this can go either of two ways, either you get to like him the more you drink, or the more you drink the more fucking annoying he becomes, and you end up lobbing glasses  at him. Fortunately it went the former way.

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was great to catch up with everyone. Jonesy is talking about coming over here to follow a rugby tour, I’ll  kill the fucker if he doesn’t visit us. The tone of the evening was somewhat subdued by the TV screen showing the terrible events in Paris which had just started. (The full extent of this nightmare scenario was not apparent until the next morning.) This was brought home more to us as Ratty’s wife, the lovely Virginnie, is French and had relatives in Paris at that time.

Before hitting our cab home, we agreed to have a rematch on the 12 of December, when  we’d be back in Llanelli.

 

 

Llansawel Gallery is here, (mainly photos of the Angel Inn.)

14/11/15 (Mainly wet.)

We cleaned up the flat, and then had a last session and sauna at the gym. We popped in to see Mam and Louise, and threatened to be back before they knew it.

We went into town, but totally failed to find any Welsh Xmas cards to annoy people in Australia with. We also had a snack each from “Greggs”  and regretted it.

We drove to Llansawel, in time to find Charlie doing his best “Tom Good” impression, while chasing their chickens to bed. The envyometer went up a notch. Charlie gave me a book on the history of Sennen, he’d saved up for me as a surprise. One day he’ll get a gift back off me,  honest Chas.

That night they treated us to a meal at “Wright’s Food Emporium”.

Not heard of this place before, but what a find!! It’s an interesting cross between a cafe, restaurant and deli. Really good quality food, well presented and with some very original dishes. We ordered a range of platters, and found we had too much, I like having too much.

We got back to their place not too late, as Charlie was demanding to see “Strictly come dancing,” Babs informed us he’s addicted to it. Given the choice between “Strickly” with its fine array of dancing totty, and bed, I chose the latter. I’m old, so sue me.

15/11/15 (dense mist and drizzle.)

Babs is on some weird fuck off diet thing, which was good for us as it meant we got avocado, blue cheese, egg and bacon for breakfast, my kind of diet!! This is a nommy dish, which is making its way into our list of staples.

We then  went for a wet walk in the woods, which was great.

 

Poor old Olly, (actually poor young Olly,) C&B’s boxer, has a really bad case of rheumatoid arthritis, so walks were kept short.

 

 

 

A consequence of this was that we found ourselves at the Angel hotel with an afternoon to kill.

 

The Angel is the pub I once described as being “like “The Slaughtered Lamb”, in “An American Werewolf in London”. Four pints in the afternoon there did little to change my opinion. The locals didn’t mind us being there, and a few were speaking Welsh to each other, which is lovely to hear. Charlie didn’t join in, luckily for him. I couldn’t help but notice that one bloke there, a hearty chatty chap, was the spitting image of a real life Peter Griffin off family guy. I sneaked some photos of him.

We staggered back to their place, where we were joined by Babs’s son, a very amenable and pleasant young man, whose name totally escapes me. After a cracking meal prepared by Charlie and  Babs, (I REALLY like this diet she’s on!,) we played Trivial Pursuits. I won, I always win, (except if that twat Clarkie is playing, then I sulk.) I was in bed by 9.00 pm, afternoon drinking does that to me, especially when followed by evening drinking.

 

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