Fashion…A Cut Above The Norm ?

With the record temps this week melting roads, buckling railway lines and making lots of people just nasty to stand next to, I decided to buy a new pair of shorts.

Now I have several pairs of shorts but only one pair has fitted me for the last couple of years as my waistline has expanded somewhat.  The others I keep, in the mostly forlorn hope that one day I may be able to “climb into” them and get the top button to actually go into the top hole……or come anywhere close to it.

This fitting pair work for me as they have an elasticated waistband, a boon to those of us with the accepted medical condition known as obesity !  The problem recently has been that, as with most of my clothing, I’ve had them years and have worn them almost daily since the start of the month. A few days ago I discovered that the material on each side of my precious bits has worn away and I risk being done for exposure if I wear them outside again.

Personally I’d just call them “designer ventilated” but I doubt that the police, fashion or otherwise, would agree.

So much as I hate shopping for clothes (I know, who’d have thunk it !), I went to buy a new pair earlier this week. I just wanted a similar kind, you know, the ones you see spectators wearing at golf matches (not in the US though, oh dear me no).

Like these……..


Now I admit I probably shouldn’t have gone to Tesco but it was nearby and I felt had a good range of clothing.

Just not for my age or size as it turned out.

They had NO shorts of the type above and so not wanting to go elsewhere, I lowered my expectations and just looked for any shorts that wouldn’t cause me to end up in the magistrate’s court.

At this point I have to say that despite having spent a lot of time in the US of A where oldies like me can wear just about anything and not be stared at or carted off to a rest home, we just aren’t like that here in the UK.

Or probably anywhere else for that matter.

So no shorts that were light blue, bright yellow, green, pink… get the picture, for this senior citizen.

Somewhat out of desperation and feeling slightly intimidated by being close to so many new items of clothing, I plumped for a pair that looked like sweat pants that had been cut off just above the knee. The label didn’t mention waist size and checking others of the same type on the rack, they only came in S,M and L.

As my days of being S or M ending in my twenties, I chose L and they seemed baggy enough for me. Stretchy too. They also came with a draw string method of tightening which I took to be a good omen.

Not bothering to try them on, I fairly scampered to the self checkouts and left the store with slightly raised blood pressure and a tightness in my chest.


Fast forward to a few hours later when I decided to try them on in the privacy of my bedroom. With only one leg in the shorts, I already suspected that I’d made a mistake. With the other leg in the shorts, suspicion gave way to certainty.

With movements akin to a trainee limbo dancer I managed to get them over my hips, at which point I noticed the ends of the draw string rapidly disappearing into the waistband material. I also felt the blood flow being constricted in my thighs so I stopped and despite knowing what I’d see, I checked myself in the mirror and, well lets just say if I did manage to get them a bit higher, my lack of Jewish ancestry would be clearly evident !

As there hadn’t been a choice of XL, 2XL, 3XL etc, I’d assumed L (with the draw string remember) would fit my fuller figure effortlessly.

Ha ! Big mistake. Big.  L mistake in fact.

And so it was that I found myself at the Tesco Customer Service desk the next day and after explaining to the lady that I’d no intention of taking part in the Tour de France in those shorts, I got my refund and went up to the clothing floor to try again.

As the forecast was for the hottest day of the year, if not of all time, I now was looking at shorts that I’d discarded the previous day as being unsuitable for my age group and without too much deliberation, I went for a pair that I believe are classed as “distressed” in modern fashion parlance but this time I also picked another pair, a size bigger and trotted off to the changing room to try them on.

Fool me once…and so on.

The first pair (again elasticated) fitted nicely and with no zip or buttons to mess with, just pulled on like swim shorts. I liked them.

But in the interests of comfort and increased air flow, I then tried on the larger pair and therein lay the conundrum. With the elasticated waistband and draw string, they were the dogs bollocks, as Gok Wan was never heard to say. Although they permitted a free flow of movement, albeit a bit too much freedom, I just couldn’t bear to accept the fact I’d be getting shorts that big.

No, no, no. I’m at the start of a diet and exercise program to reduce my HbA1C level to below that which currently labels me as being type 11 diabetic so I’m determined to reduce my waistline.

I replaced the larger sized shorts (you may have noticed I’m not mentioning any sizes here – I’m fat, not stupid !) and left the store with a spring in my step as I’d bought clothing and survived the experience.

So….distressed.  What’s that all about ?  Why the need to buy something new that looks like something old ?  Given time and wear, they’ll be old soon enough.

God knows I know THAT feeling.

But as well as being blotchy, these shorts have multiple built in creases around the precious area that give the impression that I’ve slept in them for a month or more.

Again…….that would happen naturally over time so why introduce it when new ?

Oh it’s fashion you’ll say.  It’s bollocks I say.  I want my new clothes to look new. At least to look new till the first wash.

I saw a photo of multi millionaire F1 driver Louis Hamilton this week and he was wearing white shorts, somewhat in the style of the photo I added earlier.

But they were slashed like he’d come second best in a fight with Neil “Razor” Ruddock and the hems were more frayed than my nerves when clothes shopping.

This is fashion ?

Oh well, with my new distressed and pre creased shorts, I can go walking knowing that I’m almost on the edge of being fashionable….and decent.

If I want to go full Gok Wan, I’ll need a pair of scissors and that’s not happening. There may be one or two differences between me and Louis Hamilton but I’m happy that MY shorts don’t look like they were on the outside of his F1 car doing over 200mph.

By the way, if you’re wondering about my use of the word “precious” when referring to my old (very old) family jewels, it comes from an episode of Gogglebox I watched this week. The families and friends were watching a show about lifelike human models with artificial intelligence that, if the show’s facts were to be believed, will soon be all the rage.  Clearly at this stage in their development, these models were being bought by, lets call them, lonely men with needs (and women, as there were male models too) !

Yes, lets leave it at that.

Anyway, being anatomically correct, the (male) creator showed us how, when he used his fingers in a certain place on the (female) model, it would make realistic sounds of pleasure or whatever.

One of the 3 elderly Caribbean ladies who were watching the show said “oh he’s touching her precious” which, despite putting a completely different slant on my enjoyment of Lord Of The Rings, I thought was a rather lovely way to describe that area, male or female.

Or in my case, semi precious I suppose !

A Walk From Burnsall To Grassington

On June 29th I had my long term illness review (or LTC as it’s called now – Long Term Care) which I’m supposed to have annually, if not more frequently.

The fact that it’s not always annually is down to me as I tend to ignore the appointment letters as over the years I’ve found it’s a bit of a waste of time. When it started I was seen by a doctor but as the years have passed, it’s been “downgraded” to a nurse and this time I was seen by a young healthcare assistant.

Next time I fully expect to be seen by one of the receptionists.

These days, during the review, I’m asked questions from a checklist and the healthcare assistant was straight in with “do you ever find yourself sad or depressed ?”

You mean apart from right now“, I felt like replying.

So she took my bp, weighed me and took my height……all things I could do myself at home. Then she took my blood which, fair enough, I’m not great at doing myself at home unless I’m running with scissors, which I try to avoid.

Looking at the results online a few days later (I’m jumping a bit ahead here so will get back on track asap), I could see all my answers to the questions. So I was a bit surprised to see “Does not complain of erectile dysfunction” !!

I was surprised because I was never asked about it and I assumed this was due to the healthcare assistant being a young girl who was too embarrassed to ask. Maybe next time she’ll have had more experience and be ready with the tape measure.

Right, back on track.

I won’t go into the other disturbing aspects of the review and go straight to the results. I was never told them. I went online a few days later and found them on my medical records and was horrified to see my Haemoglobin A1c level had gone from 47 mmol/mol to 69 mmol/mol.

As a level of 48 and over is classed as being type 2 diabetic rather than the borderline diabetic I was before, I was naturally concerned to say the least.

So I made an appointment to see the specialist nurse to discuss these results and also complain about not being told about them (to be fair that had NEVER happened before) and what a wonderful 65 minute session I had. I told her I’d been walking 3-7 miles a day since seeing the results and eating a bit healthier (come on……I’m only human) and after some discussion, she recommended I go onto Metformin to help with reducing the 69 score way back below 48 as quickly as possible considering my heart disease history.

The meds were delivered today and I took the first one after breakfast.

I really hope I can discontinue taking them and I’m encouraged by a snapshot reading taken last Friday with my friend’s blood glucose meter which showed a level of 6.1mmol/L which equates to 36mmol/mol.

Much better than 69 so I seem to be on the right path.

Anyway all this medical stuff is to explain why, yesterday, I took myself off to Burnsall for my favourite walk along the banks of the River Wharfe. I planned on a gentle walk to Grassington and back which I reckoned could end up being 6-7 miles on yet another lovely summer’s day.

It’s a stunning 1 hr drive from my house to Burnsall and I got there at 11:30. My first port of call was to the village cafe for some fuel for my walk and so at 12:11, after putting on my bluetooth headphones and lining up some tunes and starting the MapMyWalk app, I was off.

I’d parked on the road by the bridge and this was the view back to the cafe which you can see between the 2 biggest trees and behind that blue car. A delightful location and a highly recommended cafe which is under new ownership.


I only had my phone with me as I’ve taken many photos of the walk already and didn’t want to bring my heavy main Lumix bridge camera.

And yes, don’t let the name fool you….it doesn’t only take photos of bridges !

It was soon obvious that the continuing heatwave we’re experiencing in the UK had given the landscape a huge contrast between public grass which only gets watered by nature and grass in private hands, so to speak.

This was a typical view looking back the way I’d come……..


….compared to a view across the river to a house with a well watered garden.


After a couple of miles I was delighted to come upon Linton Falls from a different direction than on previous walks as I’d really only ever seen the turbine building and the weir that still powers it.

I’d never seen the falls themselves and actually thought the weir WAS the falls by another name !

Despite not quite being on a par with Angel, Victoria or Niagara Falls, Linton Falls is still a pretty location despite the low water levels as a result of the aforementioned heatwave.




Then it was on to Grassington which was as busy a Dales town as you can get. To add insult to injury, the last 1/4 mile to the town involves a very steep road to climb followed by an even steeper main street once you’ve got there.

Right at the top is a quirky shop called Ashton House selling hand carved furniture and all things crafty. I needed a rest after the climbs so spent some time exploring the shop and admiring the many items on display outside.



The shops and houses in Grassington are very pleasing to the eye and obviously play their part in making the town a very popular stopping point for Dales walkers, cyclists and general looky lookers like me.



My less than speedy walking and the numerous stops to enjoy the views and take the occasional photo meant that despite completing almost 4 miles, I’d taken nearly 2.5hrs to do it.  It was time to return to Burnsall.

Having already seen the falls, I approached Linton the way I always did before and that meant going through the graveyard of St. Michael & All Angels parish church.

Now if, after death, you’re going to be buried, and I’m not, it would be hard to find a prettier location for your earthly remains. I did come across a stunning one in Ireland when on my Wild Atlantic Way road trip a few years ago as it bordered a lake which helps any graveyard, but this one near Linton was still a nice place to rest your weary bones.



And speaking of weary bones, as I was, my living bones were starting to realise I’d walked 5 miles already with the prospect of another 3 to go to get back to the car !

Ay caramba !!

It had been a bit overcast to this point but suddenly the skies brightened and the sun broke through, making me even more sweaty.

The up side was that with partly blue skies, the scenery went up a few notches and I took a lot more piccies on the return trip.

Here are a few……..





I particularly like the last two as one shows how the path is so close to the river edge and the other one is just a nice composition, if I do say so myself.

Still on the path and approaching the road bridge at Burnsall, I couldn’t resist taking a photo of it from a location that has become a favourite of mine over the years. The colours change with the time of year but the view itself is timeless.

It was my final photo of the day.


As I approached the end of the path by the bridge, I took my phone out of my pocket to check how far I had walked and how close I was to 8 miles and it showed 7.88 miles. Looking up along the bridge I could see the top of my car and though that if I wanted to be a saddo and walk exactly 8 miles, I might have to walk past the car and come back to it.

At the start of the bridge it was 7.92 miles and I couldn’t believe it when it ticked over to 8 miles as I got to the car boot. Walking around the front to get out of the way of passing cars registered another 0.1 miles before I stopped it recording and saved the route and stats for my records.




So it had been another great, if leisurely, walk along the River Wharfe in the glorious Yorkshire Dales and best of all, it should help towards lowering my blood/glucose level so that I can come off these damn Metformin pills asap.

And then when I have my next review, the receptionist won’t have to ask me about any  erectile dysfunction issues !


Golf Is A Good Walk Spoiled.

Yesterday I played golf for the first time since 2012 when I was in Florida.

6 years is a long time when you’re in your 60’s and your body is fading like a £5 note in a Scotman’s pocket.

The weather WAS Floridian but that was the only comparison with my previous outing. I was using a trolley rather than a cart to carry my clubs, I had no companions to urge me on and worst of all, the course was ex-farming land that was just missing a few cows to still BE farming land.

Putting was a lottery although I did get excited when the ball dropped in for a 4 on the first hole – till I realised it was a par 3.

Then I 4 putted on the 2nd to make 7 and that was when I decided to class anything around 1-2 ft from the hole as being IN the hole. I know this sounds a bit cheat-y (although not on the same level as a Colombian player at the World Cup) but my reasoning was that the greens, being more patchy than my front garden, would cause me to score well over 100 if I tried to putt out on every hole.

Brandon Golf Course near Shadwell, Leeds is an 18 hole pay and play course which was created out of local fields with very little done to them since. Well not quite, but you’re constantly aware you’re not on a “proper golf course” like Augusta National.

Not even close, but then, where is ?

Any time I’d hit a decent straight drive, it would invariably land in a ditch or roll into a clump of trees in the middle of the fairway. With the blistering temps we’ve had over the last 2 weeks and the greens not having any sprinklers, any ball landing ON the green would roll into the next postcode before stopping.

Still, using my scoring system and a few kick outs from the extreme rough (a local rule I believe !) I went round in 88 and more importantly, due to the heat, I lost 2lbs as well as 2 balls.

Oh behave…..I mean golf balls.

I also found 3 balls which made me inordinately happy as they were better quality than the ones I was using !

Unlike my last game, I didn’t have to worry about gators or snakes or even geriatric cart drivers so those were pluses.

But the main difference was that that last game was when I was a few months shy of my 60th birthday and yesterday I was 9 days past 66. By the time I stumbled off the 18th green,  I was more than ready for a cool shower and a rub down from a Thai masseuse.

I had to settle for just the cool shower as the Thai masseuse didn’t work on a Wednesday.

Losing the 2lbs was important as I’m trying to lose (a lot of) weight as the results of my annual critical illness checkup last Friday showed that I’m definitely a type 2 diabetic now.  Seems the top “score” is 48 above which you’re no longer borderline. I’m now so far over that border (at 69) that I could be classed as an illegal immigrant !

I’m hoping that diet and exercise changes will bring that down as I don’t want to add even more pills to my daily regimen but I may not have a choice.

I’ve been out walking 4-5 miles every day for the last 2 weeks or so as the great weather has encouraged me to do that instead of using the treadmill. As a result I’ve lost 4lbs in that time so I’m off to a good start.

On a totally unrelated subject, I’m currently watching a Netflix series called La Casa De Papel which literally translates to The Paper House but in their wisdom, Netflix has called it Money Heist.  Maybe Google Translate was having an off day but actually, Money Heist is quite appropriate as the series is about a heist on the Spanish Mint.

But the point is that I have a choice of audio tracks to listen to – the original Spanish with subtitles or an English dubbed option. I usually watch it at night when I’m too tired to read subtitles so I pick the dubbed version and it’s just not working for me. It’s bad enough that words coming out of lips aren’t in sync, obviously, but the “actors” saying the dubbed lines are clearly phoning it in.

I’ve heard more enthusiasm in a Shackleton’s advert. Even in the dramatic scenes with loads of shouting between the police and the heisters (I may have made up that word) it’s like the dubbers are just reading from the script while reclining at home on their laz-y-boys.

I’m only 4 episodes in but I think I’ll switch to the Spanish audio and make do with the subtitles.

Or I could just learn Spanish I suppose !

On the subject of tv, when I returned from Florida in 2012, I treated myself to a new tv and made it a 3D tv as I thought that was the future.

Hmmmm.  Seems not.

The great British public didn’t think so and after a small uptake in tv shows being broadcast in 3D, it died a death and for the last few years, you haven’t even been able to buy a 3D tv.

So it’s a minor miracle, and a good one for me, that many movies and documentaries etc are still produced in 3D.  I have about 80 in my collection and really love watching them from time to time.

Facebook memories reminded me that I published a post on this day in 2013 that the BBC had broadcast the Wimbledon men’s semi final in 3D.   I wasn’t a fan. This was because the angle they showed was on a level with the net rather than from above so that once the ball went over the net, I’d no idea where it landed. I had to do my own “hawk-eye” tracking to try to work out where it had gone based on where it had crossed the net !

I also missed out on ever seeing a football match in 3D as Sky Sports had that sewn up and didn’t grant Virgin Media access to the broadcasts.

I was and am a Virgin Media customer so boo hiss to Sky.

I think I’d have enjoyed footy in 3D as long as the cameras weren’t at pitch level.

As for movies, I love animated ones in 3D.

Favs are Frozen, Despicable Me, Ice Age, Monsters Inc, Finding Nemo……oh any animation really. The first 3D movie I saw at home was Hugo which at the time was rated as the best 3D movie going but the one that really blew me away was Rise Of The Guardians, especially the opening scenes.

It’s such a shame to me that home 3D never took off.

Moving on, it’s been a while since my mini road trip to Wales and with the end of the World Cup on the horizon, thoughts, my thoughts at least, are turning to a proper road trip before these old bones give out.

Yes I know a road trip is by car but one still has a lot of walking to do at each location and I’m not as sprightly as I used to be. Not quite ready for a zimmer frame and on the level I can, and do, walk for miles. But the world is not flat, no matter what some people would have us believe and I do love exploring continental hill towns.

My current thinking is either 3-4 weeks around Spain as I’ve never been below Barcelona which leaves a lot of country to explore or a shorter time in Ireland, especially Co. Donegal as despite coming from N. Ireland, I’ve rarely been to Co. Donegal.

If I do that, I’ll also complete the Wild Atlantic Way as when on it in 2016, I stopped at Bundoran which was just a mile or so into Co. Donegal and after that I went across to N. Ireland and so I still have a couple of hundred miles to go to say I’ve done it all.

If you aren’t aware of the Wild Atlantic Way, it’s a 1600 mile coastal route around the western (Atlantic) side of Ireland starting in Kinsale near Cork and ending in Derry in N. Ireland. From there you have the equally stunning, if not more so, Causeway Coast route down to Belfast. I blogged about it all as part of my Ireland road trip back then and the Wild Atlantic Way part starts with Day 8.  

The next few weeks should firm up my plans and who knows, maybe do both.

I love being retired !

By the way, the title of this post, popularly attributed to him, was not in fact uttered (or written) by Mark Twain. Just so you know.

A Trip to Welsh Wales. Part 6.

Bet you thought (or hoped) that part 6 was never coming…but here it is.

A lot happened between posts and with the World Cup in full swing,  blogging was put on the back burner till today.

I had a cancer scare, found I’ve the beginning of cataracts and am probably diabetic. On the up side, my back is a lot better and I’m still loving my new wok !

So on with Part 6 of my short trip to Welsh Wales and really it’s a bit of an anti-climax as I just spent my last afternoon on Tenby beach. After all the walking and climbing that went before, I really needed a restful afternoon before the drive back to Leeds the next morning.

By the time I’d had a shower in my Cottage Court hotel room and walked the half mile down Narberth Road (A478) to the beach , it was almost 3pm.

This was the view that greeted me and considering how busy Tenby gets in peak season, it was a different story in mid May. Brilliant. It’s the perfect time to be there, unless you want to actually swim in the water as that was a tad cold for all but the most hardy of swimmers……and kids.


Before hitting the beach, I walked along the promenade and bought a meal deal at the Tesco Express in town – a bottle of Cherry Pepsi Max, a sandwich and a slice of cake.

Healthy stuff.

Then I went down to beach level and found a sheltered recess at the large rock you can see better in the first photo. I set up my camping chair and tucked into my snack. As you can see, there wasn’t much happening on the beach to keep me amused so after finishing the sandwich and cake, I got out my Kindle Fire to have a read.


It quickly became clear that reading wasn’t going to be an option as, no matter how I tried to shield it, I just couldn’t see the text on the screen.

I gave up and as there was no one around to annoy, I listened to the Radio 2 app on my phone and chilled in the warm sunshine for a couple of hours.

Now and again I’d hear voices as people strolled past along the shoreline but for the most part, I felt like Robinson Crusoe on a bus man’s holiday !   I may have nodded off for a while as it was my nap time after all and by 5pm I was ready to leave my rock and get some exercise before supper in town.

I decided to walk to the far end of the beach where I knew that there was a steep (semi) private path up to The Park Hotel as I’d stayed at the hotel with friends a few times in the past. A casual beach walker would see the wall to the left in this photo and think that the beach ended there with no option but to return the way they’d come.


As I approached the wall, I came upon this fisherman who seemed to be letting his rod, line and the water do all the hard work.

My kind of fishing.


Continuing my walk, to my left was the start of the path up to The Park Hotel. I wasn’t going to include this photo but as it does kinda show where I was at the time, I’ve added it.

It’s a panorama shot and if you can imagine that the “end of beach wall” shown in a previous photo was at my back, this is the view looking towards the town. The rising concrete area to the right is the start of the path but as you leave it and start the climb, it becomes a single forest type track , almost overgrown in places.


And VERY steep !  When I first used this path a decade or so ago, I could manage it with little effort. Not so now !

Back in the day, staff from the hotel would bring drinks, snacks and even full afternoon tea down to guests on the area of the beach near to the path. I can’t imagine the staff members liking this task much as even young ones would soon tire, literally, of going up and down the path carrying food and drink for those pampered guests.

Once on the concrete starting point, I noticed someone had etched the town name onto the sand and thus created a sort of postcard photo opportunity – which I took.


After several stops along the climb, I finally got to the top and was badly in need of oxygen, a drink and a team of paramedics.

Still breathing heavily, I took a short video of the Italian looking seating area before me and here is a still from that video. I’d dumped my stuff and pulled a chair forward so that after the video, I could collapse onto it to both have a much needed rest and also to enjoy the stunning view back down to the beach and beyond.



Once rested, I walked the last few paces to the hotel and went in to have a few words with the receptionist who I’d spoken with on my arrival in Tenby days earlier. Ok so I really wanted to use the hotel’s wifi to send the video clip to my friends in Leeds who have stayed at the hotel every year since 1896 or something and will be there again in August !

By now it was close to 7pm so there was little point in returning to MY hotel only to go back down into town for a meal, so I headed off into Tenby for some traditional fish and chips again at Fecci’s … it is in a screen print from Google Street view.

Fecci's Of Tenby

There were tables set out where that red van is on the left so I got my meal as a takeout and ate it out in the fresh air. Can’t beat fish and chips at the seaside.

It was a lovely evening so after the meal, I wandered around the town as it would be my last chance to do so on this trip. When I finally decided to call it a day, I still couldn’t resist a couple more shots of the beach area as it’s just so damned picturesque, especially when the tide is in at the harbour.



The rising tide had already covered my rock cove so it seemed a good time to head back up to the Cottage Court hotel to prepare for the after breakfast start home in the morning.

I watched a few shows on the laptop before bedtime and 10 hours later was down in the breakfast room to fill up on a full English before setting off.

As I wanted the most direct route home, I just let Waze direct me and as I already knew that the route would take me only a mile or so from friends in Wrexham, I’d arranged to drop in.

So I set off at 9:45am and as it was a Saturday, the roads were quite clear. By 1pm I was at Keith & Jen’s house for lunch (thanks guys). Initially their dog, Toby, wasn’t too happy to see me but after a while, and with some treats, he stopped barking and we’re now friends on Facebook !


The rest of the drive home was mostly on motorways and so I was home at 4:50pm, 25 minutes before the start of the FA Cup Final which had been on my mind when I set off from Tenby, 253 miles earlier.

All in all, over the 5 day trip, I’d only driven 790 miles but then, it wasn’t my usual type of road trip as most of it was spent in and around Tenby.

I’d highly recommend the Cottage Court Hotel to anyone spending time in the Tenby area and just about everywhere around the Pembrokeshire coast is stunning. Once again I’d been very fortunate with the weather considering the time of year and the short time away has encouraged me to plan for another Euro road trip this summer…….after the World Cup of course.

Cefais amser gwych yng Nghymru a gobeithiaf ddychwelyd eto’n fuan.    


A Trip to Welsh Wales. Part 5.

Well as sure as night follows day, Part 5 is hereby following Part 4.

Strange word….hearby.  Sounds a bit ye olde English. Verrily forsooth and all that.

While I’ve gone off topic here, two news updates :-

My new wok has been used twice now and I’m more than happy with it.

And probably more relevant to this blog, I dusted the cobwebs off my credit card and paid £36 to increase the photo space allocation from 3gb to 6gb as it had got to 97.5% usage after that last post.  Sadly I didn’t thoroughly read the T&C’s and I didn’t realise I’d be charged that every year as opposed to it being a one off payment for the 6gb.

I now wonder if I don’t pay the £36 for another year, if they’ll somehow reduce my allocation back down to 3gb and thus delete random blog post photos !


Anyway back to Wales and one important detail I didn’t put at the end of Part 4 was that on my way back to the hotel, I decided to book another night there if there was availability.  Given that the extra night would be a Friday, I wasn’t hopeful.

Looking back on it, I think my decision to stay another night was mostly down to being so tired after all the walking I’d done that I just didn’t fancy driving off the next morning to tour around and then find one more b&b before returning home. I really liked the Cottage Court Hotel, I liked having Tenby as a base and I just wanted one day to chill out on the beach. Finding that the weather was going to be great again, my mind was made up.

But as I got back to the hotel after 6pm when Joe had closed the reception desk, I initially thought I’d have to wait till breakfast time and make a very late booking plea. Then I remembered he had to return sometime during the evening to lock the outer door and so I left a note for him to come to my room when this happened. Amazingly a few minutes after getting to my room I heard footsteps and he arrived !

He said I could have my room for Friday night for the same £40 so I was a happy bunny and after a good night’s sleep, now we can get on with the day.

After passing through Pembroke on the way to Pembroke Dock yesterday, I’d seen a fantastic looking castle that I wanted to visit so as it looked like the hazy cloud cover needed time to burn off, my plan was to go back to the castle for a few hours and then return to chill out for the afternoon on Tenby North beach.

So loaded up with my 3 cameras again, I set off at 10:40 for the short 11 mile drive to Pembroke. I again approached the castle on the A4139 and saw lots of pay and display parking lots on both sides of the road and chose a small “overflow” area on the right side and just a couple of minutes walk to the castle.

I was pleasantly surprised to see it was only 60p for 2 hrs and £1 for 5 hrs, so unlike most parking charges near tourist attractions in this country. In fact, as I discovered later, if I’d turned left onto West Street, there was a free car park with spaces for 56 cars.

I thought I’d only need 2 hours to see around the castle……big mistake… only paid 60p. As it turned out, I’d recommend paying £1 and plan on taking 3 or more hours to experience it fully as it’s one of the best preserved and well maintained castles I’ve ever visited.

Even the entrance prices were a bargain and as a senior, it only cost me £5. I walked past the entrance to take this photo looking back the way I’d come – up over the hill where that white van is – and where you pay, as shown in the following photo, is at that castle shop.



Through the gate on the left and then through a castle archway and I was in.

I’ll post a photo of the view before me from the next level up, from the battlements so to speak, mostly because I didn’t take one from ground level !

I’m sure the large map of Wales on the ground is very educational but for me, it detracted from the historical feelings I like to get when I visit such places. Then again, over to the right, I suspect that the cafe, its outside tables and the toilets may well not have been original either !


Later on, on my way around the castle walls, I took this photo looking back to where the first one was taken. I’d been just above the left of those 2 white exhibition tents and you can also see the main entrance archway between them

You can also see the Pembroke River on the left which eventually reaches the sea at Milford Haven. .


I took the anticlockwise route around the castle walls for no other reason than I did. It was a 50/50 choice after all and I’d hoped to be able to walk around the entire castle this way but I soon found that the wall came to a dead end just where the cafe complex had been built.

As the original castle had been built in the 11th century, this was incredible future planning I thought !

So I had to drop down to ground level (and took the opportunity to avail myself of the toilet) and then rejoin the battlement walk beyond the cafe.

But I’ve jumped ahead in the story because after entering through the castle archway, I went up into the first tower and came upon the first of many excellent tableaux depicting scenes or people from bygone days with educational information up on the walls. In fact, this is a good time to state that the range of audio/visual exhibits were wonderful, ranging from tableaux like this one and moving images with informational soundtracks beamed onto stone walls to 3D figures with audio push buttons to hear who they were to best of all, images of castle staff going about their chores with nearby QR r codes to be scanned on our phones to hear more about what roles they played.

But more of all that later. First up………



So it’s not 100% sure that the future Henry VII was born here but hey, if nothing else, it may have been the first instance of fake news !

Further on, I came upon this supper scene; the table looks curved in the photo but that’s just because to get everyone in, I had to use the panorama setting and when the subject is close to the phone lens, it can distort the image slightly.



I know that’s a lot of info to take in but there WILL be a test at the end of this post so be warned !

Next up was a depiction of a bloody slaughter, not my words !  This was a very impressive tableau with great detail and a soundtrack to place visitors right in the middle of it all.




Back out on the battlements, I was still making my way to the cafe area but was enjoying the differing views along the way.




Then I entered a tower that had the first of the chalk like animations that were displayed across onto the opposite stone wall. It would’ve been easier to see on a dull day as the entrance was wide open so I waited until a particularly bright character was displayed and took this photo to at least give an impression of the setup.


At this point I reached the end of the wall in terms of walking along the battlements so I went down to ground level and on the way to the cafe, I noticed all the outside tables had informative surfaces which again, was an inspired, and practical way to pass on relevant details about the people who would have been associated with the castle.



Near the cafe I spotted a sign for Wogan Cavern (on some web sites, even BBC Wales, it’s called Wogan’s Cavern) leading down to a dark, dank natural cave.

Visitors can access the cave from a huge spiral staircase within the castle. Fifty-five steps lead down into the large subterranean limestone room, which was created by the natural process of water erosion.

Wogan Cavern is at river level, and the castle owners blocked the cave entrance with a massive stone wall that contained a large door. It’s been proposed that the cave was used for directly loading and unloading ships on the river. It was also fortified with arrow slits.

The cavern was used even before the medieval modifications that placed a castle atop it. It’s believed to have even been visited by the Romans. I didn’t take any still photos as it was so dark so just imagine a cave and you’ve got it.

As I mentioned before, there were “QR exhibits” scattered around otherwise bare areas of the walls which again was a great use of modern techniques for giving visitors information without having to stand and listen in a group to a guide.



You can see the QR code (SCAN) which stands for Quick Response Code which visitors can scan with their QR phone app and this then loads up lots of information about the exhibit. In fact, despite it being in a photo, you can scan this codes now and see what I’m talking about.

Such fun.

Here is another but sadly the quality of the QR code isn’t good enough to be scanned here.


And here is an example of the last type of audio/visual technique used at the castle. In the middle of his shield there are 2 small buttons, one to hear this dude, William de Valance, speaking in Welsh and the other to hear him in English.

Probably not really his recorded voice though, given that he inherited the castle in 1247 and it was in his family for the next 70 years.


This final set of photos (Who cheered there ?  Come on, own up !) are about the Great Tower which I would not recommend leaving till last, like I did. Exactly 100 steps spiral round the inside and thankfully I had them all to myself as passing someone coming down could have proven embarrassing at best and dangerous at worst.

Despite taking my time and stopping at several points during the ascent, I needed to take great gulps of oxygen by the time I got to the top and felt I might have had to use the air ambulance service I keep on speed dial. My heart was pounding, my legs were shaking and I was more than ready for a brandy to be hoisted up from the cafe, if it sold it.


I didn’t take any photos from the top but here are a couple of stills from the video I took which should give an idea of what it was like.

View From Great Tower 1View From Great Tower 2

Being able to walk (almost) all around the tower, the views were spectacular and thankfully the descent was much easier than the ascent. Back on terra firma, here are a few of the tower in situ from further away.

It doesn’t look tall in this first photo but again, it’s a panorama and tall things look squat in panoramas. I’ve seen myself in them and I look like an Oompa Loompa.

No comments please.



Continuing my walk at ground level back to the entrance, I realised I had to miss exploring a few places because my 2hrs were almost up and I wanted to get a good view of the castle from a distance before returning to the car.

So I hurried out, passing the castle shop and went left down Northgate Street, across the bridge and immediately left again to get good views back to the castle.



The car park and the “shed” on the left kinda spoiled the first view and given time, I may have found a better spot but I was literally within the last of the 120 minutes and had to jog back to the car. Jogging is NOT my thing, especially as I still hadn’t fully recovered from those 100 steps going up The Great Tower.

So much for a last day chilling but at 13:00, the day wasn’t over!

Within 20 minutes I was back in the hotel room and with the sun now blazing down from a clear blue sky, I was ready to hit the beach.

I was going to carry on but I’ve spent so much time and loaded so many photos already that I’ll have to make the afternoon session a Part 6. Oh and there is no time for a test either so you’ve struck lucky on two counts.

Part 6, the finale, up soon………………..


A Trip to Welsh Wales. Part 4.

I bought a new wok yesterday.

But on 17 May, I was waking up in the Cottage Court Hotel in Tenby with no plans beyond having breakfast. Passing through the small bar area I came to the bright, welcoming room where breakfast was served between 08:30 and 09:15.

Each table had a number corresponding to our room number so sitting near newly made guest friends wasn’t an option. As I hadn’t met any at that time, that was fine by me. Having said that, I felt I knew some things about the couple in the room next to mine as our respective toilets were only separated by a quite thin and not well soundproofed wall !

I’ll leave THAT piece of TMI at that.

I went and got a yogurt, cereal and orange juice from the well stocked unit near the kitchen door while checking out the procedure for ordering the main course. Laura, the daughter of the family, came to ask what I fancied from the menu and I settled on almost a “full English” which was sausage, bacon, egg and hash brown.


On the table, by the door, was a conveyor belt type toaster so when I’d finished my cereal and had time, I put two slices of bread on the rack and within 15 seconds, perfectly toasted bread plopped down on the lower tray.


While munching the toast and waiting for the main course, I got chatting with the couple from the next room who obviously were now sitting next to me as well.

AWKWARD !  No, not at all.  We just never spoke of bodily functions although it was a sort of elephant in the room.

They were from East Anglia and over the course of breakfast, we learned we’d visited many of the same places both in the UK and abroad. Small world, as they say.

Except none of us said it.

The meal, when it came, was so different from the Clun cholesterol fest the previous morning that it was like night and day. Or morning. Everything was beautifully grilled, except the egg of course, and was just perfect.

I think most guests thought they had to have finished and left by 09:15 because as you can see in this next photo, only one couple was there when I was leaving and the clock shows they were into extra time !  When Joe, the son who ran reception, told me the breakfast times, I’d been told the 09:15 was just when serving might end but guests could stay as long as they wanted. Maybe no one else got that message.


I got chatting with Laura who worked part time on the breakfast and room cleaning shift and asked about local places to spend the day. She recommended Bosherston Lakes where you could park and take various walks that circled and crossed the lakes before coming to sand dunes leading down to Barafundle Bay Beach.

All that sounded good to me and when I realised it was only 8 miles from the ASDA at Pembroke Dock where I was going to get petrol anyway, the plan was finalised.

And so it was that at 11:00 I set off from the hotel for the short 12 mile drive to Pembroke Dock and filled up for the first time since leaving Leeds, 484 miles earlier. I squeezed in a few more litres than the pump’s auto cutoff “suggested” as I knew it was the cheapest I’d find before getting home so my mpg figures for the trip so far are a bit distorted.

With a mix of motorway, and A and B roads, plus using cruise control and the a/c for most of it, I was reasonably happy to have got just over 50mpg.

Then I was on my way to Bosherston Lakes car park, run by the National Trust so my membership of the rival English Heritage cut me no discount on the £5 entrance fee. Pah. Should be a reciprocal deal, guys !

Armed with 3 cameras (phone, dSLR and GoPro on a selfie stick) I set off on a deceptively long walk mostly alongside, but three times over, the delightfully named Lily Pools and Fish Pond lakes. The walk can be partially viewed via the Street View feature of Google Maps but sadly it only shows from the car park to the first bridge across Lily Pools. The initial part of the path meanders through dense woods although with plenty of open views of the lakes.

At a bend in the path, I went a bit “off piste” to take a photo looking back as the location was a good example of the wooded area I was was in.


Several paths ran around the lakes leading to different destinations but at some points, the paths converged so these direction signs were vital to save heading off in the wrong direction and probably ending up in Cornwall !

Eight Arch Bridge was by far the largest of the three bridges crossing the lakes and yes, once I got there, I still found myself counting the actual arches, just in case they’d got the name horribly wrong.


They hadn’t.



Given my level of fitness (the bar is set pretty low), I found the walk ok to start with but by the time I crossed the Eight Arch Bridge, I was ready for a sit down, a cup of tea and another full English !   Sadly no such offering was available so on I went, climbing up to open fields (as seen on the top right of that last photo) towards the promised sand dunes.

A couple of walkers I met on the bridge told me to look out for a break in the electrified fence up ahead on the right with a rope across it.  I needed to remove the rope, step through and having replaced the rope, walk down to the forest where a path would take me on to the dunes and thus, the beach.

So I climbed up the path which thankfully leveled out with open farmland on either side. I came to a gap with a rope lying on the ground and thinking this was where I needed to turn right, I did so. I walked, nay stumbled, across a very uneven cow field with associated hoof holes and “pats” all the time doubting my decision.

When I got across the field and came upon a dead end fence, I felt my instincts had been accurate. I retraced my steps and once back on the main path, I carried on….the 100 yds till I came to a another break, this time with a rope across it and, a key point this, a proper path leading across the land, not a field, to the edge of the forest.

Hey ho.

Not long into the forest, the path split – straight on to Broad Haven Beach or left to Barafundle Bay Beach. I went left and went along another lovely woodland path with some strange tree/root formations…….


This was a short walk and soon the forest ended and suddenly I was at the edge of the sand dunes with the softest, deepest sand I’d ever had to walk over.

On the final descent down to the beach, I was up to my knees in the sand at times and when I finally reached firmerd ground, I had to remove my shoes and tip out most of it.

But the walks alongside the lakes, over the bridges, across the fields and finally down the dunes were all worth it when I saw the bay…….


Much as I loved the sand, I needed a sit down so I walked across the beach to the far right and found a sheltered area to have a rest and enjoy the views. I was close to the rocky edge with the various colours of the seaweed and other slimy stuff that was probably covered at high tide but at that time pleasantly broke up the otherwise monochromatic colour of the sand.


Once rested, I climbed a bit higher and used the 600mm zoom on the dSLR to take some shots of the few people and their dogs who has also found this wonderful bay beach.





I wanted to return to the car park a different way so I went across the beach to the other side and climbed up a very long and very steep set of stone steps to the cliff top which provided great views looking back down.

This is a still from the video I took so the quality isn’t great and the sun had temporarily gone in – but it does show how steep the climb was.


As my lungs were bursting and my legs were screaming at me to take another break, I took the opportunity to have a seat and take a few last shots of the bay before heading inland.





Ok now that I’ve posted my photos of the bay, I can tell you that you can follow my path on Google Street View from the far end of the beach (where the seaweed covered rocks were) across the beach and up the steep steps to this point. I encourage you to “walk it” as you’ll be virtually walking in my footsteps……but without getting so out of breath !

The cliff top picked up the Pembrokeshire Coast Path (again it can be traveled on Street View) which took me on a gentle walk with lovely views of the sea to my right.


I arrived at Stackpole Quay and was disappointed to find there was no sandy beach. It’s a small harbour used mostly for launching kayaks and has a stony “beach” which I’d not recommend for kids to play on, unless you want a hospital visit afterwards.


But more vital to me was the fact that there was a cafe there (The Boathouse Cafe) so I was able to have a ham salad sandwich and a 7-Up, a drink I’d not had for decades and after having a sip, I remembered why !

Anyway, rested and refreshed I set off again and within a few minutes I rejoined the path I’d been on after crossing the Eight Arch Bridge nearly 4 hours earlier.


My return pace back to the car park was even slower than the outward leg and so it was over an hour before I sank gratefully into my car’s seat.

I wished I’d used my phone’s GPS to track how far I’d walked but all I knew was I was knackered…..and more than happy to be driving the 14 miles back to the hotel in Tenby.

The day’s drive distance was only 37 miles and my feet felt like I’d walked the same. I had a lovely shower before heading down into town for an evening meal.

As the photos show, it had been a great day weather wise and I was thankful to have been wearing my floppy sun hat for most of it.  Most of it !  Ok so I had a red head.

I’d certainly recommend the area around Bosherston Lakes no matter which path is taken although I’m sure it’s much busier in high season. Board Haven Beach looks wonderful too so maybe… time.

My next day in glorious Welsh Wales would be a completely different experience…….

………but that’s for Part 5.



A Trip to Welsh Wales. Part 3.

This blog is a bit like a US tv series – you don’t know how many episodes there will be and it could be cancelled at any time if ratings go down.

Hell I’ve already lasted longer than Roseanne !

Then again I’m a sweet little old man who wouldn’t say boo to a goose (why WOULD you do that ?) and certainly wouldn’t say anything controversial.  Maybe I should turn to the dark side and make this blog like a biography and name names and reveal dirty deeds before I pass on.

I think my all boy, priest run, Catholic boarding school back in the 60’s would be a juicy place to start.

But then that sweet little old man says….NO.  Talk about Wales instead.

And so Wednesday 16th dawned in slightly hazy Clun in Shropshire (I know, I know. Keep your panties on…..I’ll be back in Wales soon). After a night of tossing and even more turning on that single bed, I was feeling a bit hazy too. I did console myself that I couldn’t fall out of the bed as the opposite wall would stop me !

I couldn’t face the bathroom with its thousands of tiny multicoloured tiles at that time of the day so as I’d had a shower the previous week, there was no need to go mad and have another today.

So I stumbled, literally, down the narrow twisty stairs in this old farmhouse to greet my newly found eating partners from the previous evening and we drank our breakfast together. I say drank because the sausage, bacon and eggs were still swimming in oil or lard or goose grease (or a combination of them all) from the frying pan and in 20 minutes, I’d undone all the hard work of my cardiothoracic surgeon 25 years ago.

With my stomach full and my arteries narrowed, I paid the lady £50 and went upstairs to prepare to depart. I heard the couple leaving and a few minutes later the cook lady shouted up that she too was leaving and could I lock the main door on my way out and pop the keys through the letterbox.

I decided there and then that if I had my life over again, I’d be a b&b owner as clearly you can make money without ever lifting a finger.

Back out on the B4368 heading east, the plan was to take a circuitous, but scenic, route across the Shropshire Hills and then the Malvern Hills as both were designated as areas of outstanding natural beauty – or AONB for short.

And they jolly well were.

The haze had left both me and the sky and it was another glorious morning.  The village names were delightful and even if I wasn’t passing through many of them, just reading their names on the signposts was a joy.

Aston on Clun (lazily twinned with Clun I felt), Clungunford (like Clun but with more NRA members), Hayton’s Bent (bit personal that one), Cold Weston (best avoided in Winter then),  Downton Castle (not a series yet), Neen Sollars (pass), Frog Pool (pass again) and by the time I saw the sign for Shelsley Walsh, I realised they were just being lazy and naming villages after whoever had the most amusing name !

After several hours of very pleasant driving, the sign for Lyne Down seemed like an omen so I headed for the next large town, Ross-on-Wye for a bit of a break and to have lunch.

Ross-on-Wye is in Herefordshire, another new county for me as I’d never been to this part of England before and yes, yes…….Wales is coming up soon.  Be patient.

It’s a lovely small market town (pop about 11,000) but with several steep streets which certainly stretched my leg muscles after all that time in the car. I had a good look around and despite the temptation to try a bit of yak, I decided to have a Subway sandwich and used some of the points on my phone app to get a foot long something or other and eat half there and then and have the other half along the road, so to speak.



At this point in the post I should say I have a slight problem with WordPress. Several years ago I switched from Blogspot as I felt my text and photos were presented better on WordPress. As you know, I load up lots of photos in my posts and I found I only had a free space allocation of 3gbs before needing to pay a monthly fee to get more.

My free allocation is now at 91.8% so as each photo takes up 0.1%, I’ll have to make a decision soon.  Pay for more space or go along deleting existing photos starting with the earliest. I think it would be sad to read one of my old posts with the photos missing but then again, probably no one reads them anyway.

I’ll have to have a think about that one. Maybe I’ll start a GoFundMe page !

Back on the road in Herefordshire, I made the decision to get to Tenby (in Wales….woohoo) by the most direct yet scenic route I could find as I felt I was getting off track a bit in England. This was supposed to be a Wales road trip after all.  I “forced” the Waze app to do this for me by inputting various town names and having several mini legs rather than just a direct drive to Tenby.

Amusingly this took me in and out of England/Wales many times as the border line weaves its merry way across the map as if ye olde planners dropped it and pissed off to ye olde pub for the rest of ye olde meeting.

My journey took me along the Wye Valley, another AONB, and I just guessed when I was in Wales when the names had lots of double lls, started with Aber or were basically unpronounceable.

Lush !

I dipped a toe in the Brecon Beacons National Park which deserved a day or more on its own but I was now a man on a mission, a driven man so to speak – although really I was the one doing the driving. I wanted to be in Tenby. After all this inland driving, the sea was calling to me. In Welsh.

Time for another “squirrel” moment.

My bestie friend here in Leeds (soon to be deserting me and moving to Skipton) has been going to Tenby AND staying at the same hotel, The Park Hotel,  every summer (and a few other times) since 1897….ok 1966 when she had her 10th birthday there with her family. Marriage and senility haven’t dampened her love of Tenby and that hotel and so I wanted to turn the tables and be in Tenby and send back photos to make her jealous.

Yes I’m that kind of friend !

Approaching the town I decided it would be hard to find a b&b with vacancies (I wasn’t staying at The Park Hotel) in such a popular resort even in mid May so I stopped of in nearby Saundersfoot to try and find a room for a couple of nights.

AirBnb was as helpful as before and all the places with b&b signs were full up. Not a good start. I drove on to Tenby to try my luck there and of course my first port of call had to be The Park Hotel so I could send my first photos back to Leeds.


This photo of the hotel front was followed by simply turning to the left to get the view back down to the sweeping bay of Tenby’s North Beach.


By then it was after 18:00 so I popped into reception and used the hotel’s wifi to look for b&b’s locally and finally found a place on the next street which was £50 per night via

(looking at the web site, it seems to have gone up to £60 now)

I thought I’d go there and see what the rate would be if I just turned up and was delighted to find that not only did they have availability, but the rate was £40 so I booked 2 nights.

It was the oddly named Cottage Court Hotel and I’d HIGHLY recommend it to anyone visiting Tenby. It’s really a family run b&b guest house as you only get breakfast but it has a bar (never saw anyone using it) and the 11 rooms are all en suite and spotless and the staff (family) are delightful and helpful.




By now it was close to 19:00 so I just dumped my case and took the long steep, very steep, road down into the town for a look around and to get something to eat.

I’ve stayed in Tenby a few times and thanks to my friends, even in The Park Hotel so I was just revisiting all the places I knew so well.

Not as well as them obviously !

For a while I sat on a bench overlooking the picturesque harbour as the last rays of the setting sun bathed the pastel coloured houses in a warm glow.


The tide was in and all the small boats which are left high and dry when it’s out, were bobbing about as if anxious to be on adventures on the open sea beyond the safety of the harbour walls.

Or maybe just bobbing…cause they’re just boats.



Speaking of boats, a short boat ride from Tenby harbour lies Caldey Island and I might as well let Wikipedia take it from here………

Caldey (Welsh:Ynys Bŷr) is a small island off the southwest coast of mainland Wales, near Tenby in Pembrokeshire. With a recorded history going back over 1,500 years, it is known as one of the holy islands of Britain. A number of traditions inherited from Celtic times are observed by the Cistercian monks, who are the chief inhabitants and owners of the island today.

At its closest point, Caldey lies 0.6 miles (1 km) south of the mainland, though the usual access to the island is by small boat from the town of Tenby, some 2.5 miles (4 km) to the north.

The island’s population consists of 40 permanent residents and a varying number of Cistercian monks, known as Trappists. The monks’ predecessors migrated there from Belgium in the early 20th century, taking over from Anglican Benedictines who had bought the island in 1906 and built the extant monastery and abbey but later got into financial difficulties. Today, the monks of Caldey Abbey farm the island, chiefly raising dairy cattle, and make a range of items including cheese, shortbread, perfumes, chocolate and toiletries.

In the spring and summer, visitors are ferried to Caldey, not only to visit the sacred sanctuary but also to view the island’s rich wildlife.

So there you have it. I took a couple of photos of it from Tenby using the full 600mm of my Lumix bridge camera which as you can see, can take photos of islands as well as bridges.

A little photographic humour there.



Closer to Tenby, just a stone’s throw in fact, lies St. Catherine’s Island & Fort and again, you can click on this wikipedia link to learn more about it.

With the setting sun giving it a golden hue, it was worthy of a few photos before I needed to head off to eat a late supper.



Being by the sea, supper had to be fish and chips and so I asked some locals for a recommendation and all agreed that the “legendary” Fecci’s on Lower Frog Street was the place, or plaice, to go to.

Once again I was outfaced by the portion size so either these places (like the kebab house) are very generous or my stomach has shrunk over the years.

And before you say it, I know it’s the former. Pah !

And then it was back to the hotel for a spot of telle watching via the laptop and then bed.

Another long day with plenty of walking up and down steep streets so I did enjoy the meals for fuel if nothing else. My plans now were to use Tenby as a base for further short drives around the area but as they say, more of that later.

End of Part 3.