WHEN I read that the weather forecast for my latest excursion would be enough heavy rain on the Friday to ensure ankle-deep mud all weekend plus recurring heavy showers just to make certain, I was not in any way deterred. Nor was the Lemming, who joined me again, although it did prompt him to purchase some rather more waterproof footwear.
As it turned out, it was mostly sunny but hazy with only the occasional shower… of hailstones.
Continue reading “XCII – Borth to Machynlleth”
MINE was not a lazy Sunday morning, for I found myself up and out of my cheap and cheerful hotel — the main rule of which appeared to be that no two staff members could have the same accent, whether it be foreign or domestic — and awaiting a bus under the gaze of the King’s Statue in Weymouth.