Set off Friday am to the see the delights of North Wales. M1 was fluid, but slow; M6 came to a halt for 15 minutes just this side of Brum. Narrow lanes, and many artics/caravans, so filtering options were limited. Out the other side, off at 10A onto the M54, then A5, some back roads, then A55 along the coast. Found my 4000 year-old yew tree in surprise, a churchyard, then off to Anglesey, so back on the A55. The tunnels were livened up by knocking the 13 back into second and giving it plenty. Not much audible fun due to the earplugs, but I'm sure the motorists loved it. The ancient standing stone near Holyhed was difficult to find, as they've built new roads since my maps were printed, but I found it eventually. I filled up for the second time in Holyhead Tesco, then back down the coast to Barmouth. What delightful roads. The run into Barmouth is along a cliff hugging road by the side of a long inlet. Only trouble is, you have to go all the way to the head of the bay to go south, unless you're a train. Heading south, I thought I'd pick up a bed for the night in Aberystwyth. Wrong. Every other hotel was full, or boarded up. Fresher's week, too, apparently. Plodded on south in the gathering gloom, no sign of an inn. Eventually ended up at Llanarth, and found a Gwesty pub. They had a bed, decent beer, and live music. Very friendly, chatty, locals, too. One problem - when I woke in the morning - no sign of life anywhere. I couldn't find a way in to anywhere, and only got out via the fire escape. I packed the bike, smoked a couple of fags, gave in, and left some cash under the key in the room. So much for breakfast. Headed further south, to find a holy well on a riverside near the Welsh Coracle centre, then headed out west to Milford Haven. The A40's being dug up for almost its entire length here, and is down to 40mph for miles, with thousands of cones deployed to keep us under control. I found the fishermen's memorial just in time, as a ceremony was about to take place, with brass bands, sea scouts, and local dignitaries all milling about looking self-important. Back up the clogged A40, and I nearly fell foul of the CB13's lazy power delivery. Usually I tent to "waft" past cars on a whiff of throttle, but just this once, it wasn't enough - that gap was closing just a little too fast for comfort. A *big* handful of beans resolved the problem, and I was quite impressed by the urgency of the engine's response. Next stop was Dylan Thomas' boathouse, which involved a five minute walk to get to. What a beautiful part of the world he lived in, the miserable old fucker. Back on board, and off to Llandovery to snap the castle. Roads were clogged with bikes, and the area around the cafe was rammed solid. I declined to stop, instead heading for Oxwich, out on the Gower peninsula (I thought that had been cut off). Got the castle, then stopped in a lay-by to have lunch. First BK double since seeing Gyp all that time since. So I had two. Final push towards Cardiff (Llantwit Major) to get a dovecot, and I was done. Filled up in the village, then pointed it at the M4, and home. Had to laugh, when, as I approached the Hogarth roundabout, the Zumo informed me that I was 13 miles from home, and would be there in 23 minutes. I was actually in the Piccadilly underpass when the 23 minutes were up. So, all done apart from the plinth thing, but that doesn't really count. All piccies available to "contacts" on flickr, and to everyone from 01 Nov.
