England: phase 3.

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June 15th. I wrote this while I was drunk last night.

this is pretty much word for word, at least what I can make out, my hand-writing is pretty atrotious.

Well, Wheew!! Back from a pub dinner followed by a couple of beers, and a chat with some of the locals and other tourists, heard the saddest story which is much too sad to tell.

Meanwhile, our day...

Well we left the house of yon englishman, and headed towards a castle, or as the say in wales Castell. This first one called Ccarnarfon, which we didn't actually end up stopping at due to thier being a decided shortage of car parks. It was lovely and rugged and picturesque though, well I thought so, unfortunately mum didn't actually get the chance to see it.

Kept following the coast of Wales until we came across another Castle, Castle Conwyn, where we managed to get a car park. We got out and took lots and lots of photos, and even had the bestest ever hot chocolate (deluxe) in one of the ramparts of the town wall. Followed by a quick lunch stop at Preston, absolutely do not go there!!!!! Inala/Woodridge/Mt Morgan-ish (depending on who you are and where you're reading this from)

For tonights stopover we (me) decided on the lakes district. Great choice, went to the biggest Lake Windermere, which was gorgeous.

World cup football again tonight, like we care, but obviously everyone else does if the chanting that accompanied our dinner was any indication, I think what they were saying was Eng-urgh-land, Eng-urgh-land, Eng-urgh-land, but then again I could be very much mistaken.

June 16th. From the shores of the lake, to the tower of a castle.

Leaving the lakes district and England behind, we (mum) paid a quick visit to Beatrix Potter. Ok, not the real Beatrix Potter, just all the characters from her 23 stories. Mum said "it was enchanting".
Back on the main drag, we had a very english lunch of Burger King, no BBQ sauce mind you!! and stopped and told the lovely man at the tourist information not only our full life story, but also the fact that we wanted to stay in a castle for the night.

"No sooner said than done", he shouted as he waved his sheleiligh (maybe that's irish) and danced the highland fling. So he booked us in to the cutest little castle upstairs of the border. Passing through a town on the way there, we noticed many people (probably 2 or 3 towns worth) in the classic country hunting garb. Now, I personally had thought this ridiculous form of sporting event and horrifyingly unnattractive clothing had been left frozen at the last ice-age, but apparently not.

The Castle.

One day, there will be a picture here, and you will all go ooh, that's so cute!! But for now, just smile, nod and agree. It was gorgeous.
Now poor old mum, who unfortunately can't walk up many stairs got a lousy second floor room. However, Rapunzel that I am was put up in the tower, whereupon I tried to call my handsome prince. Sadly the only reply I got was the faint, yet distinctive baah!! baah!! of the sheep in the field below.

Our nights accomodation included a bonus dinner in the castle's restaurant. I'd love to say it was the best meal I've ever tasted, unfortunately I can't. I can however urge you to try the startling combination of white chocolate mousse and fresh berries, mmm mmm!!

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