Beaches, Castles, and Journeys Home
The weather turned during our final full day in the holiday cottage on Anglesey. While my other half holed up in the lounge for the better part of the day, I braved the elements for at least a little while and walked down to the nearby beach to watch waves breaking on the shore, and to sort through the shells, driftwood and pebbles that had washed ashore.
Later in the day we pulled coats on and set out for the local pub – our last meal “out out” before returning home. It felt like a clockwork toy winding down – going through the motions of “having fun”, but already turning our thoughts to packing bags, and returning to the real world.
This morning we woke bright and early, bags mostly packed from the night before, had a wash, got dressed, and threw our belongings into the back of the car. Traveling without the children made everything remarkably quick and easy. Before 9am we found ourselves turning the key in the door for the last time, and making our way down the lane and away from our bolt-hole for the final time.
We did have one more adventure up our sleeve though. A visit to Caernarfon Castle on the way home. Just down the coast of the Welsh mainland, after crossing the Menai Strait once more, we stopped at Caenarfon and went for an explore.
The castle has stood for over 700 years – originally built by King Edward I, and cemented into the relationship between England and Wales with the birth of his son, the first true “Prince of Wales”.
It’s a mightily impressive castle – among the biggest in the British Isles, and among the most complete. We spent quite some time climbing the various towers, walking the ramparts, and reading about it’s history.
Finally – after topping up on tea and cake – we got back in the car and started the long journey home. Somewhere in the region of four hours on the road, with a break in the middle for more tea and cake.
We got home just before dinner this evening, and I got told off for immediately resuming normal duties in the kitchen – washing up, putting away, and trying to return the house to something vaguely like “normal”.
Not being in the mood to prepare or cook anything after a long day on the road, we all went to the pub for dinner, paid for by pretend aeroplane money (another story for another day).
Of course we came home to all sorts of drama. Not our drama though – for a change – drama for friends of our children. We heard breathless accounts of what was going on, helped write text messages, helped called parents, and then told our daughters “now you know what it feels like for us when YOU make a bad decision!”.
Anyway.
Time to go collapse into bed, I suppose. My own bed. And sleep.
As much as it was good to get away, it’s also good to be home.