To the land of daffodils and roses

What do you think? Give it a go? Yes - we did have a ride on a double decker. Of course!

After doing our apprenticeship on the Metro, the London underground was a cinch!

My Auntie Doreen - Hannah's great Aunt! - loves teddies. Guess how long she's had this one!

This bear had us in stitches. It does an hysterical foot-tapping rendition of Raindrops Keep Falling on my Head.

An unusual and poignant reminder of what the women did.

Liz - my cousin, well - second cousin actually - and Hannah. So is she Hannah's third cousin? Does anybody know how this family stuff works?

Looks like some got the punch line and some didn't. Come on Uncle Haydn, where's that Welsh sense of humour?


The river Cothi in Wales where my uncle catches salmon - though, sadly, not as many these days.

The Black Lion in Abergorlech serves up a pretty hearty Wednesday lunch.

Did you know the Welsh have never heard of a 'lemon, lime and bitters'? I ordered one in a pub in Aberaeron and was surprised when the bartender handed me a lime shandy!

Station Terrace in Maerdy, Wales, where my mother and her mother and her mother lived.

Come on you lot! I'm waiting for you to say 'cheese'. Haven't got all day. Non! Turn around for the camera.

Oh, alright then.


CHEESE! That's us with Liz and my mother's sister - my Auntie Elna. And Non.

All the houses in Aberaeron are painted different colours. It's a characteristic of the area.

See the mist rolling in from the hills?

and here? Hannah's first experience on a pebble beach.

I found a gum tree in Wales!

Anyone for a bit of global warming?

York Minster.

And on the inside. We were so lucky - our visit coincided with the choir rehearsal, accompanied by the huge pipe organ.

I found someone lying down on the job.

Clearly my cousin is oblivious to the toucan that is scheming something naughty.

Liz's back garden - at least part of it - and the view I got from my bedroom first thing in the morning when I opened my curtains after arriving the night before.

One of the most beautiful views I've seen. We had a wonderful time walking on top of these limestone cliffs on the east coast of England at place called Bridlington. Thousands of sea birds roost here on the cliff face, including PUFFINS!

Crazy mother leading daughter astray.

It's SPRING!

A teary farewell then it's from Cardiff back to Paris in a plane with propellers.


Last chance for a bit of shopping in Dubai. Hmmm. Would look good in the hall. But fitting it into my hand luggage could be a problem.

Comments

Minotaur said…
Janet! I am jealous. That's all that can be said... those pics of the coast and Walsh houses were dear, and your aunts garden.

You must put them into your writing! HMM! I will be greatly surprised if you didn't.

Oh, I wanted to ask you something Twilight related because I know you read the book and despised it (statement willing to be withdrawn), but how were the villains.

You know, James and Victoria. I saw the movie and thought that they were good, and I wondered if they lived up to the book.

Your thoughts... and how's TAFE?
Wednesday, May 06, 2009 7:33:00 pm
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Black Saturday

It’s the same story told over and over and over. Same horrific details. Same descriptions. Same turns of phrase – It was like a hurricane – a hurricane of fire You could feel the oxygen being sucked out of the air The roar was like a thousand jet aircraft – I’ll never forget the roar I saw the fire come in the smallest crack – like a blow-torch – searching for oxygen The tops of the trees were snapped off – not by the fire – by the wind – by the force of the wind We had no warning We only had seconds The house was on fire and so was the car We lost everything – everything The whole town is gone – it’s all gone The whole family has gone It’s a wasteland of death It’s like Hiroshima I haven’t been able to cry yet This morning he was here — The same story. But always a different story teller. So many story tellers. Too many story tellers. Not enough story tellers. It is Wednesday and five minutes before the end of the music lesson. Twenty five eight-year-olds have been happily engaged in
Read more

Sleeping Beauty

I dash across Flinders Street when the lights change and down into the station, fingers crossed there will be a train; I don’t feel like waiting around in the cold. My first Society of Editors dinner meeting has been enjoyable and I’m grateful for being seated between the friendly Jan and Robyn. But now I am tired. All that emotional energy involved in turning up to an unfamiliar gig on your own. The gods have been kind and I sit by the window in a six-booth. It’s empty. Good. I settle in to read the material for tomorrow’s uni class. However, the girl behind is relaying today’s psychology lecture to her boyfriend. I decide that learning about the effects of loading rats and birds up with testosterone and observing their behaviour is fascinating. Will the dominant black rat be tricked if they paint the docile white one a different colour? I close my reader and tune in. At Melbourne Central a man sits on the seat two up from me. We make brief eye contact before he unfurls his MX. He
Read more