Tuesday August 13 cont.
Well we made it. More nice scenery for the two hours it took.
One bazaar thing I noticed. Unlike Ireland and Scotland, who made every fence (even between paddocks), out of stones, the Welsh use slate. It’s what I would call schist, but it may be different. Anyway, as we were coming over yet another pass on the drive south, we came across a sign that said ‘Welsh Slate’. This is obviously where they quarry it. But as we drive past, we see mountains, literally, of loose slate. As you drive past, it appears that these are just rolling hills of loose slate shards. If that’s the case, then there is no work involved to quarry it. Just pick it up.
Further investigation suggests, however, that these mountains are just piles made by the quarry. It seems that the arse has fallen out of the slate market, so these are stockpiles.
Through the day we have passed through many villages, most of which I won’t even attempt to pronounce. As you would expect, all signs are in Welsh and English, but sometimes it just doesn’t help.
One thing I have figured out, though. When they were inventing this language, there must have been a tax on vowels. Just not a human language!! Need proof? Just go back and have a look at that insanely long name.
We checked in, and have started mooching around the malls next door.
Sarah’s decided to get her nails done, so I’m in the cafe upstairs having a kiwi 🥝 thick shake. So far just a thick shake, no particular flavour. No wait, there’s the hint of kiwi fruit in the last moments before I’m sucking air.
Sorry but this is a boring post. Once Sarah is done, we wander around the malls, have dinner, and head back to the hotel.
It’s promising to rain tomorrow, so it may be a lie in and some laundry for us. That’s just the jet setters that we are.
Well we made it. More nice scenery for the two hours it took.
One bazaar thing I noticed. Unlike Ireland and Scotland, who made every fence (even between paddocks), out of stones, the Welsh use slate. It’s what I would call schist, but it may be different. Anyway, as we were coming over yet another pass on the drive south, we came across a sign that said ‘Welsh Slate’. This is obviously where they quarry it. But as we drive past, we see mountains, literally, of loose slate. As you drive past, it appears that these are just rolling hills of loose slate shards. If that’s the case, then there is no work involved to quarry it. Just pick it up.
Further investigation suggests, however, that these mountains are just piles made by the quarry. It seems that the arse has fallen out of the slate market, so these are stockpiles.
Through the day we have passed through many villages, most of which I won’t even attempt to pronounce. As you would expect, all signs are in Welsh and English, but sometimes it just doesn’t help.
One thing I have figured out, though. When they were inventing this language, there must have been a tax on vowels. Just not a human language!! Need proof? Just go back and have a look at that insanely long name.
We checked in, and have started mooching around the malls next door.
Sarah’s decided to get her nails done, so I’m in the cafe upstairs having a kiwi 🥝 thick shake. So far just a thick shake, no particular flavour. No wait, there’s the hint of kiwi fruit in the last moments before I’m sucking air.
Sorry but this is a boring post. Once Sarah is done, we wander around the malls, have dinner, and head back to the hotel.
It’s promising to rain tomorrow, so it may be a lie in and some laundry for us. That’s just the jet setters that we are.
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