We took a few days off and drove northward and then westward and found ourselves in Wales.
No wonder Dylan Thomas wrote so lyrically. My heart sings, too, Mr Thomas.
We are staying in a detached guest house on an old farm. Outside I can hear lambs calling for their mamas and cows announcing that it’s time for the pasture gates to open. (I don’t really know why the cows are carrying on but they seem to have something to say).
We have been visited by an elderly black cat who wanted to stay with us last night and one very curious and rather friendly chicken.
A certain somebody forgot to bring cables for our electronics charger so the first order of business is to find a phone store this morning. Then we’re off to explore some of the surrounding countryside.