Wow. It's getting hot over here. Amazingly, the weather for our camping holiday in Wales was actually pretty good, with balmy-to-warm days and light-showery nights (except for that one night we camped through the longest, loudest thunder-and-lightening storm In The World). We even went swimming in our bathers on a couple of occassions. No matter that we needed resuscitation and silver blankets to resume breathing afterwards.
Wales itself was gorgeous - huge, practically empty beaches; massive sand dunes to run down; loads of beautiful walks where you found yourself tripping over ruined castles and ancient monuments (check out this 5,500 year old burial cairn); enough surfing and body-boarding to keep my knees and elbows nicely bruised; all with fresh air filling your lungs with every inhale. It's amazing (or maybe not so) that after living in London for so long, clean air actually seems to have a taste - and that taste is good. Almost as good as the raspberries and strawberries we spent picking one sunny afternoon on the farm where we were camping. But not quite as good as the home-made raspberry jam you could buy from the farm shop. Which, by the way, is best consumed on the day of purchase, spread liberally on a fresh, cloud-soft scone, with a generous dollop of clotted cream on top. Heavenly.
We also had a lovely piece of local bass from the fishmongers (so thats what non-supermarket-bought fish tastes like) which we ended up baking in the oven, after smoking out the entire apartment block with our "disposable BBQ" on the balcony. (Note to Self: naked flames and rental properties don't mix. Also: does it mean you are getting old when your best memories of a holiday are all food-related? Never mind).
Anyway, I also got to meet the Boyfriend's extended family - his paternal auntie, her welsh husband and two of their grown-up kids, at a lovely (if somewhat red-wine hazed) BBQ - the proper full-size, outdoor, established kind. She is a very talented print artist and makes a lip-smacking aubergine pickle.
All in all, it was a very good holiday. Ultra-relaxing, with enough surfing and coastal walking activity to prevent one's muscles from atrophying. I just wish I was still bobbing on the waves in Llangennith, with nothing to look forward to except a slightly smoky piece of delicious, freshly caught fish for dinner, with freshly picked raspberries for afters.