My experiences of Wales are somewhat limited but I am reliably informed that the Welsh are as accommodating as the Swiss only less affluent. Our barman last night were perfectly fine so it seems Welsh Waiter syndrome is yet to kick in.
If they are anything like their road system however, we are in for a miserable time. What with countless malls, bus lanes, one way streets and no left turns, navigating around Cardiff is like navigating the Hampton Court Maze. Blindfolded. We reached the deliveries entrance of the Marriott Hotel but then had to backtrack via about four blocks to get to the main entrance which, as the dragon flies was about 30m away and just round a (no entrance) corner. Finding the entrance to the Pyramid of Giza would have been easier.
Needless to say this situation generated a modicum of tension and relations between the front seat drivers (Cuz 1 and me) and the back seat drivers (Cuz 2 and the CB) were somewhat strained by the time we parked the car then removed it from the reserved Tabernacle Choir parking bay (£50 fine and tow away) and into a less belligerent parking spot.
So it was Welsh faggots (see my Facebook page if you have access) last night and it’s Cardiff Castle and various other Welsh rare bits today.
Incidentally, one thing I have noticed, and it is quite obvious, is that no one here is wearing a mask. Now Wales is somewhat insular but I’m pretty sure they get international news – I can see a BBC building from the hotel window – so they must know about the corona virus. But they obviously don’t know how serious it is and that’s not down to the paucity of masks. You can still buy toilet paper in the shops.
We are now at about the end of the daylight hours and it hasn’t rained once today. This is most unusual for this time of year. I’m surprised those whackos from Extinction Rebellion aren’t gluing themselves to the road protesting that this is because the end of the planet is nigh and Wales is at the forefront of climate action and must lead the world in ……. leadership or something. That’s what they say in Australia anyway. But if they are still stuck to Lloyd George Street on Saturday when Wales plays Scotland in 6 Nations rugby, they should expect to feel the full weight of coach loads of boyos from the valleys.