Monday, September 5

Way Out West

We've had the most marvellous holiday in the West of our lovely Wales.

Seven days of sunshine. Not a drop of rain. Hot salty, vinegary, ketchupy chips on the beach. Dates with my camera. Morning runs on the beach. Lots of sandcastles. Swimming in the sea. Cream tea in a cottage garden. Lazy mornings with big pots of tea. Early nights. Surfy, salty, sandy hair. A bizarre harbourside festival with dancing and paella.

And the highlight was our blissful beach barbecue on a balmy evening. We ate hot halloumi and griddled peppers and veggie dogs. We drank Hoegaarden out of the bottles and hid in big holes in the sand. We splashed in the sea as the sun went down and saw hundreds of tiny silver fish leaping out the water. It's up there with the most magical moments of my life so far.

I'm a lucky lady. 

(And we stayed two doors down from the childhood home of the artist Gwen John - one of the reasons why Gwen is called Gwen.)

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