Caerphilly Castle, Abergavenny, Raglan Castle, Tintern Abbey

Breakfast in the B&B’s breakfast room this morning, where we were engaged in conversation by the pot-bellied owner, then just as we were getting up to leave, in came grandpa in his pyjamas to regale us with his scintillating wit (“how do you find culture in Australia? Open a tub of yogurt!”) and his fascinating stories of visiting our country in the 1960s or whenever.

We finally extricated ourselves and got away from this crappy B&B (bathrooms were grubby too) and headed west to a town called Caerphilly and its huge castle – the biggest in Wales in fact. A truly spectacular castle in the centre of town surrounded by a lake and 30 acres of parkland. The weather was terrible and driving sheets of rain sometimes forced us inside, but rain and cold often suits the viewing of a ruined castle. I was a bit worn out, however, after very little sleep last night.

After several hours we left, bought sandwiches for lunch, and headed north, stopping on the way to eat our lunch by the side of the road.

Another short drive – let’s face it, they’re all short! – and we were in Abergavenny, the northernmost point of our Great Britain travels. Another small, somewhat tired-looking Welsh town, but we have a nice big room and, thankfully, a big bed in a Georgian coaching house called The Angel. After a quick walk around the shops – lots of overweight, tattooed people and mothers screaming at children – we relaxed in the room for a while and I watched TV while Carol tried to find a room in Bath. Later we went downstairs to the hotel bar for a drink.

When we went down for dinner the room was full, so we ordered room service, which was quite good.

Finally, a good night’s sleep!

26th October

I’m now writing from a huge, incredibly comfortable leather chair in a guest room of the 15th century Sign of the Angel Inn, in Lacock. The fire is lit and it’s warm and cosy. There’s hardly a straight line to be seen in this ancient room, which retains its medieval layout. The place drips atmosphere, with its walls and ceiling at crazy angles, dark word panelling, and soft lighting. It’s a wonderful room.

Anyway, in Abergavenny we had breakfast, then walked to the nearby castle ruins, a small ruin but a lovely view across the countryside. We went to a nearby old church too but it wasn’t open.

Leaving Abergavenny, we drove to Raglan Castle. We’ve realised that it is school holiday time – hence some difficulty with getting accommodation, and annoying kids running around castles as though they were playgrounds.

Raglan was stunning, a late middle ages showpiece with a beautiful little moat and impressive gatehouse. A highlight was the view from the top of one of the towers, four flights up. The weather was perfect.

Next stop was Tintern Abbey, which we reached through a maze of narrow hedge-lined roads, trusting to our GPS system that we’ve affectionately named ‘Emma’ (after the name of the woman on the CD from which I was learning French) To get us there. The abbey ruins nestle in a little valley. We had lunch in a lovely pub, discovered I’d lost my black beanie somewhere along the way (very annoying), and we’d also left our medicine bag back at Bradford-on-Avon, but this was all soon forgotten among the soaring ruins of the abbey.

Next stop was Castle Combe, which we found after a bit of GPS difficulty. This 15th century village, voted in 1962 as the prettiest village in England and still on the tourist rail 47 years later as a result (an appearance in the 1966 film Doctor Doolittle is another old drawcard) is certainly beautiful, and a carpark outside of the village keeps the traffic to an absolute minimum.

We stayed at The Castle lnn, a medieval inn, as one of the last two indulgences of our trip. Our room was at the end of a little maze of corridors, and featured a bed you had to climb into, and of course wonky-angled walls and exposed beams. After settling in, we wandered out into the very quiet evening – how wonderful life would be without cars – and had a quick look around the beautiful old village.

Then we had a drink in the White Hat across the square, then dinner in the Castle Inn. A good dinner, though English cuisine does tend to be a bit old fashioned and a bit stodgy, and sometimes these inn restaurants can’t quite decide whether they’re trying to be pubs or exclusive restaurants, since pub grub is still on the menu despite the fact you’re being served by a formally dressed waiter. Anyway, it was a nice evening.