For the past three years, my hubby, Bri, and I have stumped up the cash for the annual ground rent on my uncle's static caravan (that's trailer for US readers). After many decades of enjoying the benefits of a bolt-hole in his native Wales, he could only manage a couple of visits a year. However, he was in two minds whether to sell as several of his relatives appreciated a stay in this glorious site, set betwixt a babbling stream and a pine forest, less than ten minutes from a mountain and twice that to the sea.Many of you who have ever read a newsletter from me, will know I've spent many a happy hour down there, with words pouring out as my muse gets enhanced by the beauty and sheer power of the place. Here's a few places I love to visit/write:
"So what has this to do with what you wish for?" I hear you ask. As in "Get On With It!!!"
In January, we paid a raft of money to buy it as my uncle finally decided to sell. We were all packed up and ready to open it up on March 22nd when the UK got locked down, and Wales a couple of days after. In my May newsletter, I bemoaned the fact we couldn’t get down to the van and this continued for the whole of June and half of July. (Ok, now you can pay attention).
Since they relaxed lockdown in Wales, we’ve been back and forth 3 times, a total of 17 days out of 25. "Nice," you say. Except all but 2 of those days were spent cleaning, repairing and renovating. No rest for the wicked.
And now I'm back down again hoping to lay down a few words but I'm way too distracted by thunder, lightning and torrential rain. Ho hum.
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