Actually, it was last weekend.
You may have noticed there wasn’t a roast last Sunday. That was because I was away at my sisters caravan, enjoying the delights of Aberystwyth.
And it was lovely. Never been before and I can recommend it for a nice quiet break. I mean, it’s so tranquil and one would hope that even in my calamitous life, I could go a whole weekend without finding something stupid to write about.
Okay … you’d be wrong.
Take the trip to Aberaeron …
Now I have to say, Aberaeron is also lovely. However, it seems it is a little more upmarket than most places I am used to.
I’ll say. I’m live in crappy Walsall, a town filled with money lenders and pound shops like this.
However, to be fair, Aberaeron also has its pound shops … or rather they used to.
This is a picture taken a year or so back. A discount shop in Aberaeron – The Famous £1 Store.
Nothing wrong in that, however it seems the times are hard and inflation has caught up with Aberaeron. See …
So the £1 shop has felt the chancellor’s penny pinching and is now hiked up to a famous £1.20 shop. Famous for what … being the first discount store to whack up the prices?
And it wasn’t just that shop. Now I’m not normally one to complain (stop laughing), but £4.05 is by far the most money I have ever paid for a whippy ice cream, courtesy of The Hive in Aberaeron.
Four pound bloody five pence! Where did they ship the ice from … Antarctica?
Still, a blip on a perfect weekend. Just the one so far …
And then we went to Borth …
Borth is a dead town, and I mean – of graveyard proportions. If Borth had been a living being, it would now be a zombie, forced to walk the earth pretending it was still alive.
I won’t name and shame the gift shop because at least they tried. However, at the back of a row of tacky ceramic dogs, my curiosity was aroused by this …
Garden Centre? But we were only in a tiny shop. I know, perhaps there was a huge expanse of shrubbery, decking and garden ornaments to choose from.
Okay, maybe not. Quite the worst garden centre in the world.
Then I went next door to the amusement arcade.
Walking past dated slot machines, I was disturbed by the overwhelming smell of petrol which seemed to permeate the air. Then as I traversed the entire twelve yards of the fun feast, I came across the grab machine with the least chance ever of winning a toy.
Borth even has its own tourist information centre. I should have popped in. Do they know something I don’t?
A break at the unfriendliest tea shop, ever.
So we left Aberystwyth and headed home. However, wanting to prolong the holiday, we thought it would be nice to stop and have a drink at a quaint little place on the Welshpool Light Railway. Namely, Llanfair Caereinion.
Well, it would have been quaint had it not been for the most unfriendliest and unhelpful attendant ever encountered behind the counter of a coffee bar. Talk about looking on us as though we’d walked in from a dung heap. I know it was the hottest day of the year, but there was no need to substitute the air conditioning with a frosty reception such as that.
You’d think we’d asked a monumental favour by wanting milk in our coffee. The face on her when it ran out and she had to get some more!
There she is, blurred in the distance. The one with the white hair. The photo is of such a poor quality because (a) I was taking it in a clandestine manner and (b) I don’t want her to sue me.
I’m back home now.
So that’s about it. My nice weekend away. But still on the subject of Llanfair Caereinion, I took this photo of a signpost outside the railway station. The middle sign is pointing saying , Railway Station.
Talk about stating the bleeding obvious – having the sign say where the station is when it is so obviously twenty feet over the road.