I went away - without bear! Bear has had probably five or six nights away since he was born, a couple of nights with my sister in law and a couple of nights with my brother. He is not what I consider an abandoned child. So I only had a little bit of guilt that I went away for a weekend and left him and DH at home, where they had a blast.
I signed up for a mystery coach tour as a very belated 50th birthday present. With the single person supplement it came to £51, including coach travel (not huge distances), dinner, bed and breakfast. It was good fun tootling out of Yorkshire and wondering what direction we were going. We ended up in Llandudno. I went there loads of times when I was a kid so it was wonderful.
When we arrived at @ 3pm the tide was almost in, which meant that walking along the sand wasn't an option as the part of the beach not yet covered looked like this...
Although to be fair to Llandudno, when the tide is out the beach is more like this part...
The weather was incredibly misty
But I love the mist and cloud hiding the hill tops as it makes me think of magical things happening up there. The Great Orme was closed (Neolithic copper mine that has had some amazing excavations) but I had some great walks up and down and it wasn't too cold - the fuschia there seems to be doing fine
They also have an Alice in Wonderland trail, which I didn't follow but did enjoy the parts of it I saw
I loved the Mad Hatter.
I was in a very nice sea front hotel, and even had a sea view. The hotel was awesome, catering for gluten free and having bingo and an entertainer on but I fell asleep at 8pm so I can't tell you what that was like.
The next day we called in at Chester and it was good seeing my old stamping grounds. I called in at the Cathedral, walked along the walls where I managed to get a picture of a squirrel
And this is the excavated half of the Roman Amphitheatre. In the background you can see St Johns which is supposed to go back to the sixth century and where there was apparently once a one eyed hermit which rumour said was Harold Godwinson who didn't die at the Battle of Hastings and instead lived out the rest of his days in Chester. After a wander around the Grosvenor Museum I was glad to sit back on the coach. I am recovering today.
And speaking of recovering, I've posted some more writing. If you are interested go to Always Another Chapter here then you will find the short version of the next part of 'At the Sign of the White Hart' together with linkys to all previous installments including the full version of the post and a linky to the whole Steve Adderson story so far. I went linky mad.