Ahh lovely Welsh Wales. We had such a perfect holiday last week. You know one of those holidays where you really don’t want to ever come home? And you start to convince yourselves that you could actually live in a beach hut and make a living selling shells or discarded bits of rotten crab or something?
We were camping in Snowdonia in the most beautiful spot. Quite literally a stones throw away from a private beach and surrounded by mountains and the most beautiful countryside. I think Wales even gives Yorkshire a run for its money in the scenic stakes and that really is saying something. The weather gods were in our favour too, which considering what a washout this year has been, was something of a miracle.
From pretty medieval towns to beautiful sandy beaches. Amazing castles every which way that we turned. Going to sleep to the sound of the waves lapping against the beach. Then waking up to that same amazing sound all over again. The first cup of tea of the day with the dewy grass still fresh under my toes. Being the first to spot the sea. Picnics on the beach complete with sandy sandwiches of course. New buckets and spades and paddling in the sea. Being buried in the sand by my
horrible darling offspring.
Accidentally setting off an alarm in Penrhyn Castle. (That one is maybe best forgotten…) Games of eye spy that make no sense at all when a four year old makes the rules. The Mr playing with fire and us pretending that his burnt barbecue offerings were the best food we had ever did have. Ice cream moustaches. And beards. And that was just me. Lazy strolls along the beach watching the sunset every night.
So many memories. Happy happy memories.