Putting The House To Bed

Big Fat Pig and the Groupie rushed to fit in a few days at the old country estate before the Welsh government threw the English out of Cymru, ostensibly on account of Covid although in the Pig's fevered imagination it is the product of unconscious racism - still, no one likes us, we don't care. The Pig's view on all of this is, not unnaturally, stoked up by the payment of double Council Tax for a property he now finds himself prohibited from even visiting. 

Wylfa Head

Enough whining. We had a lovely time. We even found a stretch of the Coastal Path we had not walked before - from Wylfa Head back to Cemaes. Cracking. Another rather muddy adventure took us down to Ynys y Fydlyn, this second walk being celebrated with drinks and a bowl of chips each at the Trecastell Hotel in Bull Bay. Sausages for tea, washed down with Romanian red. Tidy.

Ynys y Fydlyn

And so we have done with Plas Piggy (or should that be more modestly Ty Piggy - no, Pig doesn't really do modesty - admit it you've noticed) what the National Trust do - Plas Piggy is now asleep for the winter, eagerly awaiting the day when the powers that be let us return. Damn this virus and the ham-fisted legislative response to it.

 And I'll tell you what's nice - nice is when the house opposite chops down its horrid leylandii and unclutters your view of the Great Orme. 

And I'll tell you what else is nice - a free-flowing M6 that allows the journey to Mon to be done in well under three hours.

One final thing that's nice - Joe's Pizza swilled down with a ruby ale I got for Christmas and about which I'd forgotten. 

Worth looking up on Netflix - Jimmy McGovern's Broken - by turns tragic, affecting and finally redemptive. Actually rather more than worth looking up - it's a must see.