Well the last couple of days has been frantic what with prime ministers and presidents banning some people but not others from visiting or leaving their countries and multiple airlines pulling flights and here’s the CB and I in the jolly UK. We cancelled our trip to Ireland and have been looking for a way to get home early before ScoMo slams the door. Fortunately, despite Qantas cancelling 90% of their flights, there were a few international seats available and we got two of them. The rest will be gone by the end of the month when the whole airline is grounded. Rather severe restrictions on movement are being imposed it seems.
I am hopeful I don’t encounter another problem because I caught a cold – understandable when considering the weather in Wales. It’s definitely a cold – I’ve had one or two before so am familiar with the signs. However I feel like I shall have to try to disguise the occasional cough and sniffle because I am sure there are members of the public out there taking it upon themselves to out those with devil signs – to the ducking stool with them. So my own version of 1984 (the book not the year) is underway as I try to avoid being revealed as a potential subversive or worse, mass murderer (the chief protagonist in 1984 wasn’t a mass murderer by the way – read the book).
We have a family wedding tomorrow – a cousin’s daughter – and the poor girl is watching as guests bail out and waiting for the dreaded call from the venue and/or the registrar, either of which could derail the whole thing. She’s holding up admirably (in public) so let’s hope we can make it to 2.00pm tomorrow after which the knot will be tied and all that remains is for the remaining guests to do their best with the pre-paid bar tab. Hopefully the pre-ceremony drinks will result in no one noticing my occasional cough into my coat.
But they have chosen an excellent venue – a brewery in a picturesque little town called Clitheroe in the north Lancashire countryside. The CB and I are staying at a local pub – The Swan and Royal. Great spot with a nice (and deserted) bar and big rooms looking out over a narrow main street. The owner was so pleased to see us last night that he gave us a tasty glass of coffee liqueur each. An 800 year old Norman castle in the centre of town dominates the scenery.
We’ve done a lot of castles on this trip, mostly in Wales. I love them and when you consider the engineering that went into them many centuries ago you have to wonder why a pile of cubed rocks arranged on top of one another in ever decreasing square layers until there is only one on the top is considered a wonder of the world and Conwy Castle isn’t.