It was wet, cold and windy in Pembrokeshire. And seasoned camper that I am, I forgot to pack any footwear other than sandals. We did get a few sunny days, so we had a good time anyway, and I came back to a sale to Fiction Feast so it's not all bad. Here's our tent on a rare good day:
And here's the state of the waterlogged field and my poor, poor, miserable feet:
The kids had fun. We went to a reconstructed Iron Age village. Here's my son, fearsomely warpainted with woad:
Other than that we saw plenty of rainbows. Considered mugging fellow campers for their wellies. Learnt that the tent leaks in three places. Worked out an arrangement for cooking inside the tent. Visited St David's Cathedral and Pembroke castle. Walked miles of clifftop paths. Brought home a set of slate place mats and a lot of muddy clothes.
And read a book about the last invasion of Britain - in 1797 a motley crew of Frenchmen led by an American landed near Fishguard in an attempt to rally the British peasants in revolt against the government. They failed, and were rounded up by a Welshwoman named Jemima. (And you all thought 1066 was the last time Britain was invaded, didn't you? Glad to have taught you something new!) There's a tapestry depicting this invasion, too. Bayeux, eat your heart out.