Wales - Day 2 (Part 4)

Have you ever had a moment in your life when you experienced something so spectacular that you felt as though your breath had been snatched from your chest? And all you can do is cry because you’re sure you have just passed on to another life and your tears mean, no, you’re still alive and what you are seeing is very real? Well, the beach in New Gale, caught me off guard. As we hiked, over the wall of hundreds of smooth stones, my gasps turned to tears. And when I looked through the lens of my camera, I determined that I had not perished and then immediately wondered how I could possibly capture the peace, the expansiveness, the OMG I am a mere pebble in this magnificent space, in a single shot.

We picked stones of deep purple, jet black, mottled white and mossy green, and stuffed our pockets full. So many smooth and interesting patterns were found that it was hard to pass on each one that we touched. But our pockets were tight and the sun was falling on the horizon, and we wanted to be back on the road to Cardigan before dark.

Wales - Day 2 (Part 3)

With Cardiff checked off of our list of places to see this week, we headed out of the city with Rick navigating through the wacky streets.

“Where the hell is A4?” questioned the driver with Chan his trusty, yet sometimes gappy co-pilot at this side.

Our plan for the day was to head west along the coast passing Carmarthen and Pembroke and, hopefully, reaching Glouchester by night. Rick said the landscape reminded him of New Zealand with flocks of sheep dotted on the hillsides like lice. Once off of the M4, a busier and main through fare, we continued onto A477 which was more connected to the countryside. An abandoned cemetery, forests with lanky moss and ivy covered trucks, stucco houses, the Sporting Chance Pub and Restaurant and then the Olde Mill Cafe which encouraged “Gotta stop at the Cafe. Eh, Rick, eh? in conjunction with a right elbow, elbow and then “Eh, Rick, eh?

After being on the road for just over 2 hours, we pulled over for a stretch. I took a few shots of some very woolly sheep on the side of the hill and Chan slid down the muddy slope to find somewhere private to pee. Ten paper towels to clean off his sneakers and smacks from the driver for getting them so bloody mucky, we were back in business and were aiming for the docks of Pembroke along the A477.
The sign read “Carew Castle ¼ miles” which resulted in “Oh, cool there it is!” from the boy and we all turned our heads and said, “Ooohhhhh!” And to no surprise, Rick noted the free parking lot. We all agreed that we couldn’t pass on this opportunity.
“It’s like a hot chick coming in to kiss you,” Chan explained as Rick parked our car. “And you slap her saying no, not going to happen.” So we filed out of the vehicle with the boys’ analogy pressed in our minds.

I just couldn’t take enough pictures of Carew Castle. It was vacant and a mere skeleton of what it used to be years and years ago, but still captivating and somewhat eerie. Chan stood on a podium in the empty court yard and in a British accent announced, “Today ladies and gentlemen we are going to have a hanging. Not necessarily because anybody did anything bad, just because we’re bored. Do I have any volunteers?” He pointed out into his make believe audience, “You sir, you in the front!” I chuckled and applauded and he jumped down from his stage and carried on with his exploration of the castle. It made me wonder if the ghosts were amused too.

Back on the road, Rick commented on how it felt to drive on the other side. “At first it’s strange and you’re thinking that this just isn’t right,” he explained to us. “But then you say okay, I know what I’m doing and then you have to switch back and it feels strange all over again.” When I asked Rick if he drove in New Zealand, he said he would rent a car once in a while but when he lived in Australia, he would regularly drive his girlfriend’s car. When Chan asked if she was hot, Rick said, “Not particularly. But she was a fabulous person.”

“Better than mom?” Chan quizzed.

“Not nearly,” Rick replied hesitantly.

I tapped my pen on my writing pad as the boys laughed and I commented that it wasn’t exactly a compliment but nor was it a dis either. Nice going, Romeo, I added.

We continued on the A437 and we kept our eyes peeled for the ocean. When it popped into view from behind a knoll, just passed a town called Roch, Chan gasped, “Awesome. Fantastic, Rick.” Despite the fact that the road was so narrow, we still managed to find a place to pull over to get a better look. Chan hugged Rick out of excitement which resulted in Rick telling Chan to watch it, watch it as his left shoulder was sore today.

Wales - Day 2 (Part 2)

So with the 65 pounds back in our pockets, we decided to go for the all-you-can-eat buffet breakfast. Since the boy was still classified as a child, we chowed down on sausage, beans, bacon, toast, the works essentially, to fill our boots for the journey ahead, and we only had to pay for 2 adults.

After saying good bye to the hotel with the faulty smoke detectors, we stood in line at the Dr. Who exhibit, along with about 20 other pathetic fans, waiting for the doors to open at 10:00 am. Once inside, we saw costumes from episodes, moving and talking Dalek, the Tartis, the Ood, Donna Noble’s face in the stone statue from the library episode and David’s trench coat and trainers (yes, I did touch this, by the way, even though the sign said not to).

However, we seemed to almost enjoy the souvenir shop more. I snagged a pencil case with the Tartis pasted on the front and it is now probably the best makeup bag a girl could have as it is sturdy, waterproof, and well, has the Tartis on it. Rick kept eyeing a remote control Dalek. Chan was happy just to peruse the place and didn’t really want anything. Probably because we were such big kids there that he didn’t want to steal our thunder.

“How am I going to get that home,” Rick said, standing next to the box that was about 15”x 10”x 6”. And he didn’t mean Dartford. He would look at figurines, books, and plates but he was really infatuated with the Dalek. He was about to leave the shop only with the tie that he had finally settled on, when I asked if he wanted the toy for his birthday, which was the next day. To tell you the truth, I didn’t think he would really take me up on my offer. Instead, my suggestion made his eyes light up, he grinned and said, “Sure, honey that would be great.”

When I finished paying for his gift, I turned to both of the boys and chimed, “Here you go, honey. Happy Birthday” and then I passed the large package and passed it to Rick. I looked at a guy standing next to me and remarked, “I bet you thought it was for him, eh?” pointing to Chan. And we all laughed except for the humiliated teenager that replied, “Yeh, moom. It’s for me!”

With our Dr. Who fix pacified and the Dalek safely packed in the rental car, we strolled around Cardiff Bay. Now this is what we find fascinating. Not another Primark and busy streets with strollers and smoking mothers yapping at their band of dirty-faced youngsters. Instead the bay offered an array of cafes and restaurants, lovely views of the water, and civilized families taking in the sites.

What really caught my eye was a single concrete structure at least 100 feet tall that could have been nothing more than an oversized rectangle. It was softened by the water that clung to its exterior and flowed to the base from the peak and repeated the cycle so that the foot of the waterfall was merely damp. We took a photo of Channing with it flowing and glistening in the background. So pretty.

We all agreed that Cardiff was picturesque because of its interesting architecture which was a marriage of old with new. It reminded me of Vancouver where Terry and Andria, Rick’s brother and his wife, live on a harbour. They were modern buildings with a combination of brick, stone, and timber. Quite earthy yet sleek and dynamic.

Wales - Day 2 (Part 1)

6:45 am came abruptly as the smoke alarm jolted us out of our slumber. A dazed Rick struggled to find a light switch and was just about to hop onto our bed to try and deactivate the blaring Boop...OMG Boop...Bloody heck Boop, when it suddenly stopped as oddly as it had began. Chan groaned and yanked the duvet over his head, and Rick slumped back onto the bed and we were all wondering what the hell had just hit us.

“So much for sleeping in,” I said remaining under the warm covers. “We need to call the front desk and complain.”

Funny thing is last night when we checked in the gal gave us a card and said they have a goodnight guarantee. I pictured a bunch of marketing guys trying to come up with promotional ideas for the Premier Inn. After ditching the “if your towels smell like burnt paper, you get an extra facecloth for free” and the “if the hand soap is so small it washes down the drain before you had chance to wipe your knees” then some young buckshot blurts out the “you sleep or we’re in deep” concept and voila brochures are printed by the thousands. Then along came the Robbins-Teather clan (more Teather than Robbins, when it comes to outspokenness, really) Anyway, pretty sure they are going to rethink their policy after Rick was done with the manager. The offer of a free breakfast was not enough to pacify this bleary-eyed your policy is your policy customer and a refund on my credit card was promptly issued.

When Rick returned and told us how the conversation with the suited fellow went, I actually felt sorry for the employee. He was probably thinking, cool, gotta job managing a brand new hotel. What could customers possibly complain about?

“It most certainly was not the phone that woke us up,” clarified Rick when the manager struggled with the concept that a fire alarm would engage without well, a fire (smoke actually). And Rick continued, “Does the phone sound like this?” And in his loudest voice (and anyone that knows Rick knows what loud truly means) made the sound of the alarm that snapped us out of bed. “Boop...Boop...Boop!” he called out in the hotel lobby at 7 am. Nope, free breakfast was not gonna cut it.

Back to the drawing board, buckshot.