Thursday, November 18
Abergavenny. With sunset before half four these days, we didn't have much time to explore. A quick pint in the Hen and Chickens -- a cinnamon real ale of sorts that was good (in small quantities, I would suggest) -- and a stroll through the market area, alight for Christmas, and it was back on the road west for the short drive to Crickhowell and our lodgings for the evening: The Bear Inn.
Their food matches their hospitality: Tea loved her Black Mountain steak filet, and my rump of lamb was excellent. I had pigeon for a starter, which was also very tasty -- it would seem, happily, that my earlier run-ins with their brethren on the balcony of our first apartment haven't scarred me. That, and I'd enjoyed partridge a number of times as a kid in Newfoundland, and it's similar to pigeon.
For dessert, Tea had her first pavlova, and loved it. I helped her with a bit of the meringue, and, man, it was good.
Friday, November 19
full English came with some of the best black pudding I've ever had. We both agreed that the ham and bacon was exceptional too -- local, according to the menu.
The forecast for later in the week and week's end had been poor, so no one was more surprised than us when we were greeted by the sun on Friday. Crickhowell was irresistible, blanketed in a morning mist, so we took some time to explore the local castle and side streets. The plan had then been to go straight to St. David's and hike, before coming back to Slebech for the night.
the Cathedral Church of St. John the Evangelist, some shopping, a few pints at the Boars Head -- "the flagship of the Breconshire Brewery" -- and delicious döner kebabs for the road from this hole in the wall. (We've decided we have to find one of these shops closer to home after that awesome street vendor in Oxford the other weekend, and now this.)
Slebech Park is well tucked away.
After calling them, then stopping and asking for directions at a car dealership -- insert much more to'ing and fro'ing -- and finally following a random car down a narrow -- and, by this time, very dark -- road we hoped might lead in the right direction, we made it!
But, no, as Ellie went on to explain, the local council is dead-set against what they call "sign pollution," even though the hotel merely wants to use a portion of the existing road sign for Picton Castle. I don't know how anyone finds this place without it; the petition was certainly chock-a-block by the time we got our hands on it.
Brains' fine brews. The estate is really very impressive, and the restaurant is in what used to be part of the stables; a cart shed, specifically, I believe, which doesn't do the scale of the structure justice. We decided to dine on the upper balcony, and at times we felt like royalty above our subjects, themselves dining before a crackling fire.
Saturday, November 20
Solva. The tide was out, which caught our eye, quickly followed by the Harbour Inn. It was probably the pub of the trip, with excellent food and ales on tap, and a hearth that Tea hardly took her eyes off.
We did make it to St. David's eventually, and had a great time exploring the town, as well as the cathedral and nearby Bishop's Palace. The whole area is something to see, the way it's unveiled as you walk down into the town. We could've spent a lot longer there, but we knew that our hotel was just outside of Aberystwyth, well over an hour up the west coast.
We drove through Fishguard as the light began to fade, and swore we'd come back to Cardigan one day. Thankful, the sign for the Conrah stands out well on the roadside as you come to Chancery, just before Aberystwyth. Our room was really a separate cabin of sorts -- with an amazing view, we discovered in the morning -- and perfectly laid out.
Sunday, November 21
the Devil's Bridge on the drive home. We were clearly getting the hang of planning by this point, because once we'd explored the beachfront, including the nearby castle and climbing to the top of Constitution Hill, it was well into the afternoon.
The rain was holding off as we pulled into Devil's Bridge to take in the town's namesake. We descended the slick stone steps to that thunderous culmination of the Mynach Falls called "The Punch Bowl" and gazed up at those three famous bridges. It's really quite a sight; particularly when you learn that the original bridge dates from the 11th century.
Then there was time for some refreshments at the nearby Hafod Arms Hotel -- Welsh cakes! Yum! -- before we hit the road for home.
As always, there are many more pictures (over 100!) in my Picasa web album from the trip.