Month: June 2025

Whilst staying two nights in Cupar with Georgie’s cousin, we revelled in all the delicious fresh home-grown garden produce and home-baked bread that our delightful host spoiled us with. Fussing over and patting her gorgeous and intelligent labrador was also a real treat. We spent many hours in discussion on various subjects, and the two ladies caught up on lots of family talk and history.

One day we all went for a dog walk through some lovely forest nearby, then Georgie and Rod wandered off to investigate the remains of a palace in Falkland. Then we moved on to St Andrews, the home of the origins of Scotland’s national sport: golf. We also spent some time meandering about in a ruined cathedral.

Late one night there was a failed attempt to awaken Rod at 11:00 pm to view a cute little hedgehog on the front lawn. Ah dear, such is the soporific effects of a fine single malt scotch whisky! He did, however, get to view a photo of the gorgeous wee creature early the next morning.

We made an interesting visit to Stirling Castle, a monolithic structure, where our guide did a great job of dispelling the Hollywood hokum of ‘Braveheart’ (the movie was, apparently, a load of old codswallop). Then we retraced our earlier tracks back over to the west coast of Scotland. This was partially in the vague hope of catching a cloud-free view of Ben Nevis, the tallest mountain in the British Isles. It turned out to be a futile hope.

On our first journey over the glorious Scottish Highlands we had encountered miserably cold rain and howling Arctic winds. This second journey surprised us with – you guessed it – rain once again! Such is the true Scottish experience! You just have to appreciate it for what it is.

Something Rod noticed in Fort William that he considered to be wonderful was a sign in the street warning smokers that if they dropped their disgusting cigarette butts on the ground they could incur an 800 pound ($1600) fine! Now THAT is a terrific law that should be adopted everywhere!

We really enjoyed the long drive from Fort William to Mallaig on the western coast, travelling through a glorious rocky valley on a well-made winding road. There was no sign of any sort of agriculture in that beautiful valley, no stone wall fences, no stock anywhere and no tilled paddocks. It was just natural rocks coated in thick moss, trees, bracken and water absolutely everywhere. Water was oozing out of every pore of the land, gushing waterfalls, fast running burns (creeks) and clean clear lochs. Simply wonderful. The ever present mist and drizzling rain just added to the beauty.

We headed back to the east coast and Georgie located a B&B on a quaint coastal village called Findochty, so we turned up at the site just before 6 pm as per the check-in instructions. But after ringing the doorbell and banging on the door for ages we came to the conclusion that no one was there. Georgie’s phone wouldn’t work in that place, so Rod asked a nice lady who was walking her dog down the street if there was a phone booth locally. She kindly offered for us to use her mobile phone to call the owner of the B&B. But the call just went to an answering machine. Frustrating!

Next Rod walked down the street to the local pub to see if anyone there knew this fellow who owned the B&B. The pub was rocking with a wake from a funeral that day, and the whole crowd was well and truly sozzled! Nevertheless, he managed to talk to a few people who told us that ‘Brian’ who lived there was actually in France!!! Luckily a lovely lady who lived in the house next door to ‘Brian’ offered to put a post on Facebook and see if anyone locally could put us up for the night. Soon she found a room for us in a pub in the next town of Portknockie, and the nice people who ran the establishment kept the kitchen open to make us dinner! We even had a few laughs over a Guinness in the bar with some locals. How wonderful! So it all worked out in the end.

The next day we meandered around the coastline near Buckie and McDuff, exploring lots of tiny fishing towns, high dramatic cliffs and castle ruins before settling in to a very comfy B&B near Insch. Then we scooted off for the evening to chat and eat dinner with Georgie’s stepdaughter and family. Much riotous conversation ensued, during which a few wines, beers, and fine single malts were consumed.

Previously I have made mention of the violent history that explains the crumbling remains of so many massive stone castles, where armies purposefully vandalised and destroyed those imposing structures. But little has been mentioned of the abbey and church ruins which we have also visited and then read about their horrible histories. The gruesome and sadistic nature of the goings-on of those ancient church groups, where they tortured and murdered each other in the name of a god, is almost stomach churning. Let’s hope that churches never again gain the power and wealth that they did have in those times so long ago!

Click on the pictures to enlarge them

Willow woman sculpture at Falklands Palace

Stirling Castle

Loch Lubnaig

On the drive to Mallaig

On the drive to Mallaig

On the drive to Mallaig

The coast at Portknockie

The crumbling 15th century Pitsligo Castle

Fishing village

Travelling over the Scottish highlands was gob-smackingly awesome! Heavy rain the night before and the presence of dark clouds in the morning made the scenery even more spectacular. Steep rugged slopes and large numbers of wind-blown tarns scattered about the harsh and extreme environment was so wonderful, especially when we dared to get out of the warm shelter of the car and brave the biting wind for photos. Unfortunately the rain did eventually return and obscure many of the mountains from us – including the highest of them all: Ben Nevis – but that is, after all, the true Scottish experience!

There were quite a few lochs that we drove alongside. Some were long and wide with high peaks reaching down to the deep water’s edge. One of the least impressive of these was Loch Ness, with its crowds of multiple coach-loads of tourists all waiting their turn to take a boat cruise on those famous waters. We were told later that this is a recent phenomenon, apparently in the old days no one would ever sail on that loch for fear of being eaten by Nessie. But now, of course, that successful advertising program has thousands of foreigners paying for the privilege every day.

We stayed a couple of nights with some friends from Kenya in the far northern Scottish town of Brora. They live in a very comfortable modern house (with lots of head room!) and have a magnificent family owned and run farm not far down the road. We were given the grand tour of the property and were suitably impressed with the place. It runs a variety of animals and agricultural activities on a massive sprawling estate that extends from the mountains up behind to the coastal beaches below. Wow.

We were taken for a walk up a sheltered and steep gorge to view a beautiful waterfall in a protected area known as Big Burn. It was so pretty, with only a few other people to share it with.

Whilst sitting in their dining room we noticed a vole out on the lawn. Voles are unusual little animals. Looking like a large fluffy mouse, they have the unusual habit of just stopping still and playing dead when frightened. When we approached and stood over it, the one we observed lay ‘doggo’ and didn’t move, even when prodded with a finger. It wasn’t until Rod scooped it up in his hand that the tiny cute creature became animated and ran off for a few centimetres, paused, then dashed for the shelter of the long grass. It was a wonderful experience! The diminutive fluffy creature was just so gorgeous!

Our friends told us about the ‘Clearances’. A time when the monstrous English Laird forcibly moved all the poor Scots off the fertile land, burned their houses and shifted them down to the less fertile country on the cliff tops by the sea. This was so that the local Laird could become the largest landowner in Europe and generate enormous wealth from grazing sheep. He erected a massive statue of himself up on a high ridge overlooking the town. I think it’s amazing no one has torn it down!

We took a drive up into the empty hills and skirted a quiet loch, and whilst clambering around the crumbling ruins of one old ridge top castle we joyfully observed groups of seals lounging on sandbars in Loch Fleet. On the shores of that same Loch we read signs warning us to stay clear of wild birds, and to avoid picking up feathers because of the presence of bird flu in the region.

Leaving Brora we travelled over to the east coast to visit a cousin of Georgie’s in Cupar. Along the way we stopped in at the famous skiing area of Aviemore in the Cairngorms National Park to view the snow-free peaks (it is summer after all). Unfortunately the funicular that we had hoped to ride to the top of the mountain had broken down due to some electronic failure. Then the rain began to close in on us, so we only took a short walk around the slopes in the frigid conditions before retreating back to the warmth and shelter of the car.

Another stop along the way was the Falls of Bruar, which is a steep gorge worn into the hillside by the actions of a tumbling creek. The falls were made famous by Robbie Burns, Scotland’s most famous poet. Although the gorge is pretty, it’s a popular tourist stop with a large shopping centre and groups of people noisily canyoning down the creek’s bed. We didn’t stay long.

We made it over the border to Scotland, the land of crazy kilted highlanders, that Rod somehow feels contains his biological heritage, although there is no logical reason, or written evidence for that, it’s just a gut feeling.

Along the road we visited a couple of crumbling castle ruins in an attempt to get value from our subscription to Scottish Heritage. So many castles in UK and Europe are partly demolished because of the terrible destructive wars that those ancient peoples engaged in. Thick stone walls smashed down by cannonballs. It must have been terribly violent times!

After staying in the coastal city of Ayr in probably the finest B&B we’d come across in the UK so far – where we got to cuddle and pat two gorgeous resident puppies (sigh) – we set off on our next adventures. We had so much pleasure exploring three different beautiful mossy forests on our first full day there.

After a drive up a bumpy dirt road to park the car, we clambered down a steep and slippery slope to investigate and absorb the glory of Dalcairney Falls. This is a stunning, rocky ravine with a pretty tumbling creek weaving through, and falling over, the dark mossy rocks. Walking down the valley to follow the creek further, we genuinely struggled to avoid treading on literally thousands of wee froglets after what must have been a mass hatching. Gorgeous little things they were!

The next adventure was wandering down the ‘Jurassic Park’ gorge of Ness Glen at Loch Doon. So many rare and different types of mosses and ferns were clinging to the rock walls of that narrow and stunningly pretty gorge. The climb back up over the mountain to return was a little strenuous, but well worth it for the views of pretty forests coating the slopes. Before we had set off on the journey, the lass in the information centre shared snippets from the live feed of an osprey and her two chicks on a nest across the loch. She allowed us view the nest through her powerful binoculars.

The Loch Doon Osprey Cam live feed is provided on YouTube, she informed us.

Next came the winding long drive through forestry country with untold millions of fir trees clinging to the high mountains to visit yet another mountain called Merrick that had been recommended to us. The wee twisting roads also passed through pretty farming country and lots of moist shady forests with a mixture of flowering trees and native pines. Very pretty. The long drive was probably even more visually impressive than the extensive views we indulged in at Merrick, over the loch and up at the high mountains beyond.

The road out of the Southern Highlands was long and winding, very narrow in places, and full of potholes so deep we nicknamed them ‘shortcuts to Tasmania’.

When we booked into our wee room at a pub in Sanquhar, still south of Glasgow, we were advised to park our wee car up a wee lane, past the wee garage, turn the wee corner and put it in the wee parking lot. We were then told to mind the wee step, then climb the wee stairs, turn the wee corner and walk down the wee corridor to our wee room. It was the wee bartender Brian who told us this. Wheee!

Unfortunately, unbeknown to us when booking the room, the pub also had a disco in the building. This resulted in noisy groups of people standing on the street below our window smoking and laughing loudly until the wee hours. It is quite surprising how many people in the UK still smoke that evil tobacco, and we think half of them were all grouped under our window that night!

In the morning we set off with determination to skirt around the Eastern side of Loch Lomond and climb up the Conic Hill, which had received such good reviews. Aside from charging you 50 pence to have a pee, (“Blow that!” said Rod, “I’ll just use one of those special lava-trees!”) the walk up the hill to the very top was very well constructed. Lots (LOTS) of people were there to take advantage of the path and many groups passed us as we took our time plodding up the millions of steps and enjoying the views. Rushing is just not in our DNA, particularly as Georgie is still nursing sore ribs. When we did arrive at the top, the broad views over Loch Lomond and surrounding country were stupendous, despite there being a lot of haze in the sky. That three hour mountain climb of 360 metres high was well worth it.

As we headed off to our pre-booked accommodation Georgie realised that the online booking company had booked us into the wrong flamin’ B&B! They had put us into a place of the same name in England rather than Scotland! A bit of a kerfuffle ensued as she tried to cancel that one and find another in the same country that we were currently in. Luckily Georgie and her magic wand found us another place only half an hour’s drive away. Yay!

En route we randomly stopped at Falloch Falls and took a short wander down to that very scenic spot. Some young fellows were jumping off the high rocks into the deep cold water – watching them amused us greatly.

Caerlaverock Castle

Carved chair at Threave Castle

Threave Castle

Dalcairney waterfall

Moss at Dalcairney

Dalcairney Falls

Dalcairney Falls again

Below Dalcairney

Ness Glen at Loch Doon

Ness Glen again

Again, Ness Glen

Again, Ness Glen again

Once again Ness Glen again

Conic Hill

Loch Lomond from Conic Hill

Conic Hill Panorama

Faloch Falls

Blea Tarn in the Lake District (another Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty) was recommended to us by an old school friend of Georgie’s who we had dinner with, and we are so glad she did. The drive getting there was absolutely stunning, and even if we didn’t step out of the car and walk anywhere we would have still loved it. We took the last parking spot in the National Trust carpark (more free parking), waited for a large tour group to move on, then set off.

The circuit walk started as an easy stroll around a gorgeous ancient glacial tarn high in the mountains, which was beautiful enough with forests, babbling brooks and a ring of high mountains around us. But then half way around we decided to tackle the Side Pike, a tall rocky knoll that towered high over the lake.

Climbing up and over the rocks was a struggle, particularly as Georgie was still feeling her broken ribs, but we took it slowly and easily and eventually made it to the top. Oh what an achievement! The huge 360 degree views were absolutely breathtakingly gorgeous! So very much worth the effort!

VID_20250618_124126 (1)
The view halfway up

Blea Tarn

Beautiful creek

Climbing the Side Pike

The views!

Georgie high on the mountain

Beginning the descent

A narrow fissure we had to squeeze through

The Brecon Beacons National Park was our next destination, beautiful rolling hills and mountains south of the stunning Snowdonia National Park. It is yet another Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty.

I feel I should explain to Australians about how different a National Park is here in the UK. It is usually comprised of farming land and ancient historical buildings that have strong caveats on what can be changed. Whereas the usual prerequisite for National Parks in Australia is that they are predominantly undisturbed wilderness.

At Llyn y Plyfin we engaged in a long stroll through some moors inhabited by sheep, gorse bushes, and lots sweet chirping birds, all calling from amongst the bracken whilst they nested. We were advised to not veer from the paths because those little chirpy birdies have numerous nests hidden in the dense ground cover of ferns. After wandering for over a kilometre, admiring the surrounding mountains as the clouds began lifting to reveal their peaks, we climbed a gentle hill which was the site of ancient iron age fortifications. Although nothing remained of those archaeological (most likely timber) buildings, we could see why those ancient people had chosen that site. The 360 degree view over what is now a patchwork of modern farming land is stupendous. Whilst we were there, a very large group of ‘ramblers’ were sitting and chatting noisily, but after they eventually left we were able to appreciate the grandeur of the place in the quiet.

We then opted to visit the Henrhyd Falls, reputedly the highest waterfall in the Brecon Beacons. The long half hour walk down into the heavily wooded and lush green leafy valley was extremely steep and a little bit slippery, but upon arriving at that beautiful cascade we were very glad to have accomplished it. The recent rain had improved the flow of that 27 metre high waterfall wonderfully, and it was certainly a sight to behold, and experience, the pounding water.

Some excited young people there informed us that this was the waterfall which had featured in a recent Batman movie – ‘The Dark Knight Rises’ – as the entrance to the Bat Cave.

Then came the arduously steep climb back up out of the valley! Phew! Only a few ‘little holidays’ were taken before we reached the cafe at the top. An ice-cream was our just rewards as we sat and watched a white rhea and two donkeys playing in a small field.

We stayed the night in a slummy area of Merthyr Tydfil in a unit that was uniquely decorated. Lots of weird, quirky and strangely interesting things were hung up around the place. A large green sheep stood in the window, a sign saying ‘Do Not Disturb, I Am Already Disturbed Enough’ was above the bedroom door. Tennis racquets were hung artistically over the toilet, a cobbler’s shoe last was the toilet roll holder, plus numerous odd-ball trinkets were scattered around the shelves. There was another sign stating ‘I long for the day of complete equality where a chicken’s motives are not questioned when it wants to cross the road’.

The next day we entered the crazy traffic of the ancient city centre of Merthyr Tydfil, looking for a charity shop – or ‘Op Shop’ in Australian terms – to find a travelling cushion for the car. In a pedestrian mall Rod asked a local policeman for directions, and we ended up having a half hour fun conversation with that rather gregarious and chatty fellow. A lovely bloke.

Next we visited the ruins of Tintern Abbey and wandered about, reading about the weird inhabitants who lived austere and difficult-to-understand lives (by rational standards). The whole abbey had been ransacked and pillaged by King Henry VIII – who was pretty weird himself – on the grounds that the religious society that ran it was riddled with corruption. I’m sure his own greed had something to do with it as well! Considering that it was first built about 900 years ago, it still has some amazing structures standing, that are now being lovingly restored by enthusiasts.

Our next stop was over the border in England – we had finally waved goodbye to the dramatic landscapes of Wales – in a nice little building with lots of facilities, that was to be our home for four whole nights. That’s a long time for us to stay in one place! There are two cute doggies there (YAY!) and lots of large pet fluffy bunnies. The owners were lovely, and the little house was perfect.

A primary school teacher of Georgie’s from 50-odd years ago had made contact with her through Facebook, so we popped in to visit the dear old lady. She shared photos from the old Kenyan school days, and the two women had a grand old time chatting about different people from way back then. The old teacher remembered every child’s name for the whole 6 years she taught at that particular school in the 60s and 70s. How she could remember so much with such clarity totally gobsmacked Rod, as he struggles to remember any kids names from one year ago!

Georgie was very excited to catch up with her stepson from her previous marriage, after not having seen him for over 20 years. He happened to be in the area, visiting from the USA where he now lives, at the same time that we were here. Such an unexpected but truly delightful opportunity to catch up. An absolute highlight of the trip for Georgie, There was so much to talk about, and we sat in a modern coffee shop in the ancient city of Reading and chatted for hours. He then took us for a meal of exotic pies at an old place called Sweeny & Todd (it even had a barber shop right next door!!). Despite the little-bit-creepy connotations of the historical connection, we really enjoyed the amazing and unique pies.

Earlier in the day we had found a great little laundromat in a nice neighbourhood to wash our considerable collection of dirty clothes, and spent the whole time chatting animatedly with a very happy chap who ran the joint. We got to hear his life story and had a wonderful time. He even made Georgie a cup of tea. We have been meeting so many lovely people in unexpected places on our travels!

One of Georgie’s favourite cousins was our next stop, where we stayed a couple of nights. She took us to visit Blenheim Castle where we wandered about the building and grounds. It is reputed to be the grandest privately owned castle in England. Some of the trees in those gardens are absolutely ancient, gnarled and twisted and simply gorgeous. The highlights of the visit were the butterfly house with its delicately fabulous creatures in abundance, and getting a bit bewildered in the maze.

Patchwork of farming land from Llyn y Plyfin

Leafy green valley of Henrhyd Falls

The entrance to the Bat Cave

Tintern Abbey

The pie shop!

Cute puppy Bo from our B&B

Georgie and her cuzzie deep in conversation at Blenheim

Wonderful butterfly

Stunning butterflies

Gorgeous butterflies

Beautiful butterfly

Another beautiful butterfly

Part of the maze that nearly bamboozled us

Gorgeous ancient trees

We spent the evening in the very busy and popular seaside town of Llandudno, which had a very long promenade that we opted to stroll down for our afternoon exercise (see photo from our previous post).

The next morning we set off to pick up the lost camera from the pub in Tremadog (sounds like a worried whippet) near Porthmadog (hmm). On the way we passed over some spectacular ranges and had a brief look at a beautiful high alpine pass that we later decided to return to and do a ‘proper’ walk in. Cwm Idwal is the oldest National Nature Reserve in Wales and we felt definitely deserved a closer inspection.

Later that day we also did part of a circuit walk alongside an exceptionally pretty tumbling river at Aberglaslyn. The forests were wonderfully green and mossy. The trail, however, comprised of really rough jumbled rocks and boulders, and steep steps in places, so we declined to continue for the full circuit, but enjoyed the section that we did explore. Georgie managed really well, despite nursing her poor broken rib.

That afternoon Georgie waved her magic wand and located a quiet pub in a tiny and distant rural village called Llanarmon-yn-ial for us to stay in. It was warm and comfortable with a lovely atmosphere and plenty of facilities. Those remote village pubs can be very friendly, and the Welsh beer tasty. We arrived just as the chef knocked off for the day, unfortunately, so had to drive to a nearby town for some tucker.

A return to Cwm Idwal was our target for the next day, and a 4.8 kilometre long walk around a wind-swept high alpine tarn (glacial lake) following a long uphill climb on a well-formed stepping-stone path. Departing our parked car, we rugged up our poor soft tropical bodies to billy-o to ward off that biting Arctic gale, then set forth up the mountain, revelling in the fantastic views that continually changed and became even more grandiose after every few steps. The howling wind nearly blew us off our feet numerous times, and we needed to crouch down in the lee of an ancient stone wall to eat our packed sandwiches. Tall waterfalls cascaded off the rocks towering above us and pretty flowers grew in patches amongst the lichen coated rocks. It was impossible to capture the grandeur in photographs.

Eventually we stumbled back to the parked car, physically exhausted but very pleased with ourselves for having achieved such an arduous walk.

Georgie then managed to find us a bed and breakfast for the night, in a tiny out-of-the-way village in the middle of nowhere.

Lost photo of the Precipice walk

Moss near Precipice

Hut on a tarn at Cwm Idwal on our first visit

High mountains

Mossy forests Aberglaslyn

Gushing river Aberglaslyn

Moss Aberglaslyn

Cwm Idwal

The rock wall we crouched behind at Cwm Idwal

Cwm Idwal

Cwm Idwal

Cwm Idwal video

As we left our cute little guest house in St Davids (with an annoying dripping toilet), we experienced even more really skinny roads, which all seemed to get narrower and narrower, although each, thankfully, had multiple tight passing sections. But these white-knuckle-clenching roads rewarded us with absolutely wonderful vistas of rugged coastlines, beautifully wooded valleys with bubbling brooks and quaint ancient villages, thereby making it all worthwhile.

Something we feel we should mention is that the entire coastline of Wales is a walker’s paradise. Umpteen walking paths spiderweb about the region, mostly maintained by the National Trust and the regional councils, and all are enthusiastically utilised by large numbers of people. The trails are well signposted and definitely well looked after.

We stopped at one remote lookout to bask in the glory of the coastal view and was surprised to see a fellow sitting quietly on a bench. After apologising for interrupting his serenity Rod noticed his eyes! That chap was stoned off his skull! But he was polite and gracious and was happy to share the fabulous view of crashing waves and rugged cliffs.

At another view point we visited had a cinematography crew filming what appeared to be a documentary. No wonder, we thought, it was such a spectacular spot with twisted and wrinkled rocks and wave-worn caves. There were also bird watchers with telescopic lenses viewing multiple seabirds roosting on the cliffs.

A long bumpy dirt road led us to Hafod, a National Trust property that the online reviews had waxed lyrical about, so we just had to see it. There was a lot of oohs and ahhs as we approached, as the forests were really quite beautiful and remote from all the towns and villages. However, one thing we did note is that there was quite a bit of clear felling of the tall and majestic fir tree forests, which puzzled us a bit. Most forestry work in the UK and Europe tends to be selective logging where the majority of the forest remains intact. This is so unlike Australia where the total and ugly destruction of large tracts of land is a common and barbaric forestry practice.

It was only after reading information boards that we learned that the mature fir forests here are being infected with a devastating fungus, and the landholders are instructed that they must remove the infected trees! Such a pity.

When we arrived at Hafod we opted to do a two and a half mile walk around the property, despite having driven through some rain on the way there. Sure enough, not long into the walk it began to precipitate reasonably heavily (by British standards) (I just asked Georgie to describe the rain and she just said “Wet!”). Needless to say, we became fairly drenched – and very cold. But the walk was still lovely and enjoyable despite our soggy clothes.

The large hills that we next drove through began to gradually transform into what we would describe as mountains. We were entering the Snowdonia National Park region, an Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty. This is an absolutely stunning region that we planned spend quite a bit of time in.

We were surprised and delighted by a number of aircraft flying what seemed to be very close to us. The RAF tend to fly low over the high mountain passes and through the deep valleys in their small jets and prop planes. Although they are loud, the duration is only for a few seconds, and by crikey it looks like fun! Woohoo! Imagine hooting around in one of those super powered machines! I was so jealous.

We stayed the night in a cute little ‘shepherd’s hut’ at a working farm that had gorgeous horses and foals outside in the paddock. It was clean and comfy and in a beautiful environment. We even got to pat a shaggy pet welsh cow, who we were told loves custard cream biscuits. Now that’s weird.

Rod had a beaut pre-dawn walk around a large hill in the morning, and then both of us headed up the mountain to do the ‘Precipice Walk’ – a beautiful 3.5 mile (5.6 km) high mountain trail that we’d been told about by a couple of Aussies that we’d met at the pub where we’d dined the night before.

The walk lived up to its name, and although the Welsh wind was bone-chilling and the freezing raindrops almost flesh piercing, the views absolutely made up for it all. And when a jet flew through the valley below us it was really very exciting! Following that walk we drove down into a stunning valley with the tallest Douglas Fir Trees we have ever seen – about 50 metres or more, we aproximated. Absolutely mind-numbingly gorgeous! It was a wonderful day of extreme beauty.

We ended the day driving around the Llyn Peninsula in North West Wales in search of accommodation for he night, with a view to exploring the Llyn Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty in the morning. However, our attempts to find somewhere to stay were thwarted by budget and fully booked accommodation houses, so we backtracked to Porthmadog and found a B&B (once again without the second B).

What a kerfuffle! When we awoke the next morning we realised that the camera was nowhere to be found! Oh no!! All those photos of the Precipice Walk gone! We backtracked everywhere we could think of, miles out of our planned direction, checking out petrol stations, laybys, picnic tables, anywhere that we had stopped at, but all to avail. Oh dear. The only place we couldn’t check was the pub we’d dined at because they didn’t open until 5 pm, and didn’t answer the phone when we tried.

Resigned to having lost it we located the only surviving camera shop in Wales and planned to get there before they closed at 4 pm. But we did pop into a car boot sale (‘cos we do love a bargain) and managed to pick up a nice little camera for 2 quid, but it was minus a charger and a memory card. Oh well. So we zoomed across Wales to the aforementioned remaining camera shop, and lo and behold they had 9 remaining cameras of the type we wanted. But, when the young lady tried to ring one up on the register it appeared that someone had BOUGHT ALL NINE ON EBAY THAT MORNING! Crikey!

Luckily she had a charger for the 2 pound camera and a memory card. The fairytale ending to this story is that the 2 pound camera works much better than the old one! Yay! And then at 6 pm we rang the pub and they HAD FOUND THE CAMERA! So hadn’t lost the photos or the camera, and now we even have a better camera to boot! But, of course, it does mean backtracking halfway across Wales to collect it.

Twisted rocks and waveworn caves

Walking in the rain at Hafod

Hafod 2

Hafod 3

Hafod 4

Morning walk near Dogellau

Dogellau 2

Precipice walk 1

Precipice 2

Precipice 3

Precipice 4

Precipice panorama (click on this one!)

Rod’s pre-dawn walk took him up the hill that he had been eyeing off all afternoon from the pub. At the very top he investigated ‘Arthur’s Stone’, a boulder that had been deposited by retreating glaciers tens of thousands of years ago, and had been used as an ancient burial site by the Gower’s early peoples.

In the early morning, before a sumptuous breakfast, we watched cute little bunnies in the field outside our window. Curiously they were little ones like the rabbits we’d seen several days previous. Are they all tiny here in Ol’ Blighty?

We started the day’s adventures with a search for Cwm Ivy, a place that had been recommended to us by the Australian lady at the pub, who had described it as a “Fairyland”. We meandered the car around multiple narrow lanes, through gorgeous verdant countryside, until we finally found the place we were after. After a good walk down a hillside and over some well vegetated sand dunes we encountered a wonderful broad and almost empty beach. A few dog walkers were scattered about, and we did get to have a few puppy pats, which always pleases us.

The beach was flat and the tide was a long way out, so it was a lovely wide stretch of sand to stroll along. Numerous quite large starfish were lying prone on the sand, after obviously getting stranded after the previous high tide. The ever-present Arctic wind ensured that we stayed rugged up in our wind-proof coats most of the time, despite the Sun actually being fairly warm. The wind chill factor in Wales is phenomenal! Keeping Rod’s hat on his skull has been a bit of a challenge!

Further north we stopped in at another National Trust place to enjoy the free parking, and wandered about a delightfully wild and slightly unkempt Colby Woodland Gardens. The un-manicured aspect of the woodlands really added to its charm. Once again, we got to pat doggies as we strolled along.

The Arctic wind blew like crazy in coastal Tenby where we stayed the night in a very comfy guest house. It was warm indoors, but by golly the wind had a bite outside! That wind, coupled with the cold Welsh rain, dashed any ideas of early morning walks along the seaside! Our brief walk along the seafront on the way back to our guest house after dinner found us almost being blown off our feet.

The Sun returned after breakfast and we stuck pretty close to the coast the next day, weaving along multiple incredibly narrow country lanes, and called in at another stunning National Trust place called Stackpole Estate and Quay. Not only did we have free parking there (!) but the coastal walk was utterly gorgeous, with amazing water-worn caves and sinkholes etched into the limestone cliffs along the rugged seashore. The lush forests and pretty wildflowers were absolutely wonderful.

Further down the road was a lovely lookout that we stopped at for lunch, which had lots of memorial plaques on the railing for ‘Worried Whippets’, ‘Mostly Harmless, but Always Adorable Labradors’ and other much loved doggies. Sigh.

Huge leaves at the Colby Woodland Gardens

Hedgehog sculpture at Colby

Pretty houses at Tenby

Manorbier castle

Stackpole path

Stackpole coast with caves

The view from the doggy memorial lookout

Our final day in Truro had Georgie continuing her joyful reminiscing and catching up on old times with her school friend. Then, that evening we had an absolutely splendid time at the theatre experiencing a fabulous show called the ‘Midnight Bell’. This live performance is set in the 1930s in London’s Soho, with the story told entirely through the medium of dance. It exceeded all our expectations, with brilliant choreography, fabulous dance and delightfully clever set design. What a magnificent show indeed! We walked away from there with big smiles on our mugs.

Speaking of theatre, two days prior we had encountered a massive gridlocked traffic jam on a remote road. Multitudes of cars were heading down a single lane road to go to the Minack Theatre – a legendary open-air amphitheatre nestled on the cliffs at Porthcurno, near Penzance. This resulted in us, and numerous other cars that were heading away from the village, needing to do 98 point turns on a single lane, stone-wall edged, skinny little road. Quite a drama! However, we do choose to travel on the more remote roads – as far from motorways and highways as we can achieve – so we should expect these kinds of things to happen!

The next morning we checked out of our cute little B&B (without the final B) and headed north, vaguely in the direction of Wales.

We traversed many, many more narrow (oh my goodness me!) winding roads, with lots of s-l-o-w driving and Georgie’s oft voiced cries of “Don’t scratch the car!” as we pulled over into tiny gaps to let cars, trucks and tractors to pass.

In the coastal town of Perranporth we were gobsmacked to witness daredevil surfers leaping from the rugged rocks into the crashing surf, before they paddled out to catch sets of waves. It was here that Rod finally had his ‘Traditional Cornish Pasty’ cultural experience.

The Navigatrix Extaordinaire then located the West Pentire poppy fields (which were very photogenic) and we had a lovely coastal walk around the cliff tops viewing pretty bays, inlets and beaches.

Needing a break from driving, we stopped at a ‘Pick Your Own’ strawberry farm where we totally over-indulged in a strawberry pig-out. Not many of those big, juicy and yummy fruits ended up making it into our punnet for weighing I can assure you!

Then Georgie waved her magic wand and found us a nice little B&B on the coast near Bude. It was replete with neighbours comprising alpacas, donkeys, geese, and ducks. There were also plenty of lovely dogs within the house (we do love doggies!) and great views of the Atlantic from atop the cliffs, as well as from our comfy little room’s window. The hosts were warmly welcoming and friendly, and to top it off there was a goose that rapped impatiently on the door in the morning for its usual daily toast. Cute!

The next day, on advice from our hosts, we visited the picturesque village of Clovelly, an historical fishing town that is very pretty and well maintained by the family that owns the whole village. It was a steep walk down cobblestone roads to tiny houses with tiny doors (some below shoulder height) and low ceilings. Due to the steepness of the hillside, we lazily opted to sit in the rear of a landrover to return back up the mountainside.

Whilst travelling further towards Wales along narrow hilly roads we found our original planned coastal route had been detoured up over the high moors. This, we found was most fortuitous, because finally, in those high windy hills, the ever-present high hedgerows that line the roads throughout most of country England disappeared, and we were graced with broad and expansive views. There on those wind swept ridge tops we saw some wild shaggy Exmoor ponies and lots of black footed sheep.

Following that we drove up and over the Quantock Hills, an area of outstanding natural beauty. We stopped the car and went for a gentle stroll down a lovely path and watched several squirrels doing squirrel stuff. Those hills are a stunning place with lovely views, pretty twisted trees in dark forests, and quite a few healthy looking horses with gorgeous little foals. From one high viewpoint we could see Wales across the water in the far and hazy distance.

That night we stayed in an ‘access room’ that was wheelchair accessible. No creaky stairs and noisy floorboards that night!

We crossed the Bristol Channel on a long bridge into Wales and zoomed down big highways to get past all the industrial areas and onto the Gower Peninsula. We knew that to be a pretty spot from watching episodes of ‘Escape to the Country’ on TV in Australia.

As usual, there we meandered through skinny roads, up and down valleys and through lush green forests. Every time we wanted to stop, get out and have a look around at the scenery the carpark charges were as much as nine pounds! We did stop for only four pounds fifty in Mumble, but everywhere else they charged like wounded water-buffaloes!

A little disgruntled at these prices we decided to find somewhere belonging to the National Trust, mainly because we had signed up with them soon after arriving in England, and that gives us free parking in their grounds. This turned out to be most fortuitous because we eventually ended up finding our absolutely new favourite place: Rhossili and Worm’s Head. Totally and utterly Gorgeous!

We stopped a remote pub to stay for the night with cows and sheep in the beer garden. While booking in we were informed that another couple of Aussies were there as well. That was surprising as Antipodeans are pretty rare in these parts. The room was large and comfortable, and the surroundings seemed to be promising for an early morning walk. When we settled in for dinner the young barman told me that he and his missus were from the same part of Queensland as us! A couple of Aussies from Port Douglas working there! Incredible! What a coincidence! A great ending to a great day.

Truro

Loony surfers at Perranporth

West Pentire

West Pentire

Bude

Clovelly

Clovelly

Quantock Hills

Quantock twisted forests

Quantock and horses

Mumble

Rossilli

Worm’s Head