It’s been a long day. My feet hurt. My legs hurt. Ominously, the achilles tendon that flared up while doing a charity run last year has flared up once again. I’ll have to be careful over the coming days and weeks.
So what did we do today?
We made our way to the north-eastern coast of Anglesey this morning, and did a circular walk from Moelfre, taking us first to the remains of an iron age village at Dyn Lligwy, and then on to a memorial where the “Royal Charter” wrecked with the loss of over four hundred lives in the 1800s.
In the afternoon we visited Beaumaris once again - this time to get aboard a sight-seeing boat that would take us out to “Puffin Island”. If you’ve never seen a puffin, they are a curious looking bird in the Awk family - with a short, solid body, small wings, and a distinctly un-aerodynamic shape. They are also quite rare - only inhabiting a few coastal islands around the United Kingdom.
While travelling out to the nature reserve the puffins have settled on in recent decades, we heard about the history of the island, and the lifecycle of the various birds that inhabit it. Some of the stories beggar belief - from a shipwreck landing rats on the island that the RAF had to eventually bomb with rat poison to wipe out, to an idiot landing a number of rabbits on the island - which proliferated into tens of thousands.
The puffins were unexpectedly wonderful. When landing they try to hover - only they can’t - so invariably crash every time they try to land. I watched one almost land wonderfully - only to completely lose control on final approach and fall head-first into the lapping waves below. When it bobbed up you could almost hear it spluttering “I’m fine!, I’m fine!”…
On our return we wandered along the sea-front at Beaumaris and picked out a popular-looking hotel to find some refreshment. While my other half found a table, I wandered in to find the bar.
Oh my word.
I’m not quite sure how I might describe the hotel. I have a good friend that’s a wonderful script-writer - all I could think about afterwards was that she would have thought she had hit gold. Think Fawlty Towers, but on a bigger scale.
While waiting in the queue at the bar - which itself took some finding - an elderly gentleman behind be struck up conversations.
“You’re luck you were not here half an hour ago”.
I glanced at him, questioningly.
“There were six people in the queue half an hour ago, one person serving - slowly - then when somebody came to help, the other buggered off.”
I smiled.
He then turned to the next person in the queue behind him, and recounted the exact same story - that everybody in the queue and all the bar-staff had already heard.
While carrying my drinks away from the bar, I became quite annoyed - that so many people find no greater delight than complaining about anything and everything. So many people find fault, rather than empathy with those they complain about. Right wing conspiracy theorists cause the same frustrations. It’s always about “the man”, and failures perceived through rose-tinted “better in my day” glasses - so rarely empathy or understanding.
Anyway.
Enough with the negativity. I won’t be drawn into their world.
We bought chips on the way home from a traditional chip-shop in the next village to where we’re staying. The staff were friendly, the locals picking up orders were wonderful, and the food was amazing.
Tomorrow is… tomorrow. We’re really not sure how we might share our final day here. Perhaps the weather will decide for us. We’ll see.