We started by meeting Miles who was running a course in Cilfynydd (we can't pronounce it either) in South Wales, where the English were certainly the ethnic minority in the local Albion Cafe. The sausage sandwich and tea was exemplary. That night we were in Haverfordwest on my cousin's farm, where I assisted with the dairy cows in a purely consultancy role. I also got to play some rugby with nephews Lewis, Oliver, and Godson Freddie. Lewis was in charge and was Scarlets, Freddie and I were Munster (we weren't even worthy to be a Welsh team!) We lost substantially.
The next morning we found our way through North Wales to Manchester; visibility only dropped to zero for a little bit of the journey. Mat and Alana made it down from Durham and we stayed with Hannah's sister Rachel. Dinner out was at Rhubarb, a little more refined than the Albion, where they served an "espresso martini" - gets you drunk while it keeps you up. Perfect.
Today was another motorway tour, taking in the Ms 6, 5 and 4, then various single-lane country roads where I got some good (terrifying) overtaking practice in our Fiat Panda. And now we're with our nephews and nieces, have offloaded the majority of our luggage weight (presents), I've made at least one of them cry, and almost lost at draughts to the eldest. They're in bed now, Scott's cooking us steaks, and the dog won't come back in from his evening walk. Homely consistency.
The pinnacle of British cuisine.
Miles, still looking gorgeous.
Three-year-old Freddie, my Godson and Munster teammate.
Lewis: Scarlets.
Technology comes to West Wales.
Sisters together in Manchester.
My breakfast this morning, the black pudding special.
Mat and Alana are equally impressed.
Reasserting my intellectual dominance over Oliver (we drew).
