A few days away

by NobblySan

MrsN, the hounds, and myself have just come back from a few days away in North Wales.

Anglesey to be precise.

Or, to be even more preciserer, a small collection of holiday cottages just outside Llangaffo.

It was cracking! We had great weather, and the location of the cottage was perfect, with plenty of space for the dogs to run about.

We would normally take a longer holiday in summer, but what with all the restrictions around at the moment, and the fact that UK accommodation is as rare as rocking horse shit, we were bloody lucky to sneak in on an airbnb booking for these 3 nights.

Last Monday, we climbed up Holyhead Mountain, and then headed over to South Stack lighthouse. I’ve spent lots of time in Anglesey over the years, but never did this particular walk. It was quite spectacular in places, with great views from the top over the island towards Snowdonia in the distance.

If anyone is interested, here are some pics . . .

9 Comments to “A few days away”

  1. It looks fabulous.

    Like

  2. I should have thought it all looked a bit tame for you Cornish folk.

    You’ll be used to rugged cliffs.

    Not to mention the odd camp Hank Marvin.

    Like

  3. ‘es, tes true, me ‘andsome. We gotten cliffs loik you ubben never seen. An’ leave me ‘usband outta this !

    Like

  4. Nice pics, Nobs.

    Is there a decent chippie on Anglesey? I’ve only been once, and didn’t get further inland than the sea and the cliffs.

    Like

    • A touching comment from sticky, a poet, a man of keen sensibility. A man who understands that nature’s awesome beauty in remote and isolated locations, can allow us a respite from the urban jungles in which we dwell, and create an indelible impression on our souls that, we too, are a part of this wondrous phenomena, resulting in our thrusting our arms to the skies in unparalleled joy.

      Even more so if a Chippy was nearby.

      Personally, I’d prefer a Pub.

      Liked by 1 person

      • A wanderer abroad could not feel whole
        When bathing in that balm that feeds the soul
        Of Nature’s gifts in sense and sight and sound
        Should adequate provender not be found

        “Food of the Gods!” a bard is known to state
        Surveying golden crispness on his plate
        Repast to better aught thy could command
        At any inn and tavern in the land

        “Stout fryer, bring to me thy finest cod!
        “Fished from the sea, provided there by God
        “And chunky chips from Raleigh’s finest fare
        “Fried golden crisp in tallow fat so rare!”

        The wanderer, replete, now in his cot
        Reflects on poor delinquents who have not
        The wherewithal to seek the angels’ grub
        And end up getting rat-arsed in the pub

        Liked by 1 person

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