The Wanderer Returns

I have long known that one of my less attractive traits is fixing people I have just met with a steely glare and exclaiming “What do you mean you’ve never been to Wales? Go now! It’s great!” If I am in particularly enthusiastically Welsh mood I may even offer to drive them to the ferry port that very instant. As this is on the interweb I can’t drive you anywhere but I can urge you to drop whatever you are doing and go to Wales the instant you finish reading this. It’s great.

In case you haven’t noticed my absence over the last ten days or so (and if not, why not?), I’ve been in Cardiff with Strider. Her flat is rather lovely. It is on the first floor and overlooks a church so I was able to sit in her bay window and watch two blokes (possibly) nicking the lead from the church roof without the aid of high visibility jackets.
One night some Chavs came and threw eggs at half the houses in the crescent including Strider’s so she spent three days complaining about having egg all over her window. I recommended Fairy Power Spray but knowing her it will be evolving into a new form of life before she gets around to scrubbing it off. She thinks they have a vendetta against her but I pointed out that she was not that special and that they would be unlikely to be able to pick her out of a line up. That went down marvellously, as you can imagine.
Interestingly, the Rozzers came to investigate the incident the following morning, presumably alerted by one of the other residents of the crescent. When the Chavs smashed Strider’s window in her old ground floor flat in an attempt to break in, it took almost a week for the Rozzers to turn up, most probably because Strider does not sport a Welsh accent. I still don’t know why they bothered smashing the glass. If they’d had a screwdriver they could have popped the pane out in one piece.

Anyway. I went to Ikea. I ate lots of Ikea cake. Then I felt sick. I walked through the park to see where I would end up. I ended up at Tesco. I then walked back along the Taff Trail in the hope reliving old times with the Llandaff flasher but he wasn’t there so maybe the Rozzers have finally caught up with him. I went in Marks and Spencer. I stood in the fruit and veg aisle and wept in gladness over the waxy potatoes. I purchased a lovely jumper which makes me look really unsexy but for me that is true of all clothes and even more so of nakedness. I ate Japanese food in the place near Strider’s. I ate much better Japanese food in the place near where I used to live. I coveted the Hello Kitty Dancing Geisha they have on the counter there. Good times were had by all.
Then I decided to branch out and went to Pwll Mawr. That’s Big Pit to the rest of you. You will note that it is not The Big Pit, merely Big Pit. It was the best time I have had in ages and totally free. If you are ever in South Wales, head up to Blaenafon. It’s a World Heritage Site. Like Bath.
It does have a very nice Modernist clock outside the Working Man’s Social Club.

Then I decided to take the car to the Newport Transporter Bridge for a treat as it is making even more odd noises (Possibly something to do with a wheel misalignment according to He Who Knows Everything. They’re all still attached. For now.). It is one of only 6 working transporter bridges left in the world. I’m not one for that type of architecture but it is a seriously magnificent piece of engineering. On your way back from Blaenafon, go to Newport and ride the Transporter bridge. Free on foot or 50p for a car. Bargain.

On the way back over I purchased a pen from the Ferry gift shop so I could do the crossword in the paper (or rather, so I could fail to do the crossword in the paper). It is green. It has a leprechaun on the top and a bubble wand inside it. When you write it lights up with a green light. It is the best £2 I have spent in years.

So. Go to Wales. It’s great.