A return to old haunts

Overnight the rain has set in so by the time we leave our B+B after breakfast it is raining quite heavily and the day is grey and dismal. Yesterday's brilliant sunshine would perhaps have cast Portmeirion in a more favourable light but we head there nevertheless.

We arrive just as the gates open and donning our raincoats, we join a free guided walk around the fantasy village. We have no idea what the guide is saying as his strong Welsh accent obscures his narrative, but he speaks with a delightful cadence and it's a good opportunity to pause at some key vistas and take photos. Fortunately the rain stops soon after we arrive and while the greyness lingers, the pretty pastels of the buildings and beautiful gardens ensure there's more than enough colour to entertain the eye.

Ross' fantasy village

Portmeirion accommodation

Kitted out for the flood

We walk along the seafront again where there is a beautiful stillness that hangs across the estuary.

Views over the estuary

Ross sits down for an overpriced and bitter tasting coffee. As more tourists and day-trippers start to pour in, the magic starts to wear off and so we give Portmeirion a parting glance and beat a hasty retreat to the car.

A parting glance

It is to be a 2.5 hour drive south to Ross' mum's house but we stop in Aberystwyth to pick up some items that she has asked for from the supermarket. As we leave the town centre, we notice a lot of traffic heading in the same direction. Not far out of town, traffic comes to a standstill and we edge along slowly until we reach a police roadblock. The road is a single lane in each direction and it looks like a lane is closed up ahead. The cars in front are eventually let through and we are the first car to be stopped again by the police while traffic coming the other way is allowed to pass. We sit and wait. And wait. And wait. More and more cars and trucks come down the hill and yet we are not waved through. Eventually after nearly 45 minutes, the policewoman controlling the traffic comes to the driver's window to apologise. The road up ahead is closed because of a traffic accident, but a few hundred metres beyond that, some silly tossers were involved in another accident. The highway is in gridlock. Eventually we are allowed to pass and fortunately do not have to wait too long at the next roadblock to be let through. We pass queues of traffic waiting in the opposite direction in a long line that snakes along the highway for miles.

Happily it is a smooth run from there and we reach Aberporth by mid-afternoon. We're welcomed by Ross' mum and we settle in for a few days of chats, food, sleep, reading, walks, excursions to Cardigan. Repeat.