Well, it hardly seems any time at all since the school bell rang in Preveza, and it was the end of term. We handed the boat in at the Cleopatra boatyard, and waited for the school bus to take us back across the channel to Preveza. It seemed ages until we would return. What were we going to do?
We felt it would be rude and ungrateful not to use more of our French visa, so first of all we went back to Aubeterre. [Ed, it was the crane migration season, and massive V-formations were heading south from Scandinavia/Russia to Spain and North Africa.]
But within a few weeks we were driving back to the UK, and the delightful time of year that is December in the UK ☹. Actually, it’s quite nice in the Cotswolds – lovely little shops looking Christmassy, without the overbearing hulk of an overheated shopping centre.
And December went by so quickly – we caught up with family and friends, went on a few day trips if the sun was shining, visited the panto (oh yes, we did), tried new bars and restaurants, indulged in log fires with Channel 4 streaming services, and had a fun New Year’s Eve with the addition of a very well-behaved chocolate lab.
We re-started our volunteering at the Great Western Hospital: I was on the surgical ward, Richard on gastroenterology. [Ed, I like to tell people I’m responsible for drug administration, which is true if you limit that to tea, coffee and the chocolate on the biscuits.]
Back in Cirencester, we turned our attention to the next major event – my birthday. When Richard turned 50 [Ed, only very recently!], he decided to celebrate with a Jubilee year, and, of course, a major holiday. We had discussed my 60th for quite a while: Sydney (not again groaned Richard); maybe a wildlife trip to the Falklands; luxury hideaways in the Caribbean etc. But the advent of Covid in 2020 put a dampener on making any plans (you may scoff at planning in 2020 for an early 2022 holiday, but let me tell you, Richard’s 50th was planned and booked a good year plus before his birthday).
We picked up the thread again towards the end of our sailing trip in Sicily. The US was opening up, so maybe a trip to the Mardi Gras in New Orleans? Laos? Oooh, a safari in Tanzania? High on the list was South Africa with some remote safari parks and luxury wine country. And then just as you thought it was safe to go back in the water, Omicron reared its ugly head in South Africa and suddenly all bets were off again. <Sigh!>
Back we went to the drawing board. Local pub? The land of my fathers? Chinese takeaway? Hang on a minute – the land of my fathers… would Mark Drakeford let us in? Armed therefore with two laptops, Google, a webpage entitled ‘Walesonline: 50 best restaurants for 2022’, we sat down happily to do some research. Eventually, we had booked a mini break: two nights in Aberystwyth with my birthday meal at chef Nathan Davies’ SY23 and then on to Aberaeron for a night at the stunning Harbourmaster Hotel. We packed enough pairs of contact lenses and clean knickers to decide whether we went on somewhere else again, or headed back to Ciren.
The sky was blue, the sun was shining, we had the top down on the car, we were driving to Aberystwyth. The phone rang. It was SY23. They were incredibly sorry but one of their front-of-house staff had gone down with Covid-19 and they’d had to close the restaurant for a week. They could offer us a table at their outdoor restaurant instead (outdoors??? In February? In WALES??). We accepted the table, but agreed that we could cancel if we wanted.
But you know what? We didn’t cancel. The weather was kind, we layered up, they had enough outdoor heaters to grow melons. [Ed – Dear Planet, sorry]. The food was just spectacular. We had a series of small plates – Spanish tapas style but local produce, cooked on a Big Green Egg, and the two chefs just behind us to chat to. I should point out there was only one other couple daft enough to be there, so they did have lots of time to chat. It was absolutely superb, and probably all the more memorable for it. However, I’d bought a new dress for the occasion, and it was demanding to be worn, so we tacked on an overnight stay at the Grove in Narbeth and worked our way through their tasting menu.
I want to write that I don’t actually remember food being like this when I was growing up in Wales but there again, it was a few years ago (ahem), and we also didn’t eat out much. I don’t suppose we could really afford it. And if menus tended to be meat and two veg, well, we could do that at home. What we did have was the glorious Swansea Market. Swansea was recognised as a market town from as early as the 12th century, and the market moved locations as trade grew. Much of it was destroyed during the heavy bombing of Swansea in WW2 (targeting Swansea docks), but was rebuilt, and opened in 1961, the year before I was born. We didn’t have much room for a vegetable garden at home, so most of our vegetable shopping was done at the market, plus fruit, fish (Coakley-Greene, Tuckers, Selwyn’s), cockles for tea on a Sunday. And of course, laverbread – big enamel bowls full of mounds of black, gleaming laverbread. I tried to find some photos on-line, but sadly all I could come up with were little polystyrene pots of it. When we used to buy it, the stall holder would ladle it out on to white paper with some oatmeal to stop it sticking (it was glutinous stuff, and got into every nook and cranny when you cooked it). These days, I order it from our fishmonger and use it in baked oysters, topped with stilton and cream cheese.
But Richard and I have itchy feet, and our new Greek visas opened up huge possibilities of European trips, with the added advantage of using up our EasyJet vouchers from 2022. We spent a few, glorious days in sunny Malaga, rediscovering our old favourite tapas bars, and of course down to France for a couple of weeks. One of the highlights of the trip to France was a visit to the Beauval Parc Zoo to see the panda cubs, born last August…
When we arrived, Daddy Panda was outside, lying on top of a rock, stretching and showing off his physique to the onlookers. Every so often he would roll over so that we could all take photographs from a different angle. Mummy Panda was inside, in a landscaped area, as the cubs don’t get to go outside until spring. She sat there quite happily in some rocks, munching away on some bamboo. But there was no sign of the cubs. We decided that we would visit areas around the panda enclosure and go back every now and then to check. And there, when we came back for the third time, were two little bundles of black and white fur, sitting in what looked like a large trampoline. This was great fun for the cubs. They crawled all around. Sometimes you’d see two heads, and sometimes a little furry black and white bottom would appear as they did a nose dive.
Mummy Panda sat with her back to them, and just munched away on her bamboo. Onlookers were very respectful and moved around to give viewing space to other visitors. They were so sweet that Richard had to check the back seat of the car before we left.
The other thing that occurs to me is that I’d vowed to immerse myself in learning the Windy weather and passage planning system. We have tried to keep ourselves mentally occupied. We both started A-level maths topics, and I have to say Richard has kept with it [Ed – I hate binomial expansions]. But I soon got bored, and then fortunately remembered that I do, in fact, have an A-level in maths already, so don’t need to get another one (Richard only has lightweight A-levels in Physics, Chemistry and Biology). Instead, I spent a couple of days proof-reading a friend’s brilliant thesis prior to submission.
But I haven’t done anything on Windy, and we’re now back in school, and I still haven’t done my homework…
Wonderful account of your school holidays and so lovely to be part of them. I would also like to add you spent more than a couple of days proof reading my tome of a thesis - a task for which I am eternally grateful. I think the A level maths may have been an easier task 🤣🤣.