Toss-pot.

this word makes me laugh.

Have just returned from brave adventure into the part of Wales that people from Cardiff call "really Welshy". The conductor on the train yesterday called it Land-diddly-o. It is really: Llandeilo.

To the left is NOT the whole town; Llandeilo is actually to the left, outside the picture. sadly missed getting a good picture of the whole town. maybe next time.

Went to see the sister of my former neighbor (from the Fairfield apartment) as she is in a rest home there. She is terribly cute and Southern and so sad because she cannot speak so that people can understand. But she was happy to see me & my 2 bunches of Daffodils (which were apparently either made of gold or collected by someone in need of a new private jet or something -- 1GBP per bunch. and a bunch is approximately 9. but anyhoo...)

The home is actually in the town pictured to the R. I would tell you how to pronounce it inoffensively, but that would take away all the challenge.

For some bizarre mental-incapacity reason (that may be somehow related to the title of this edition), the definitively non-brilliant decision was made not to wear my Dr. Marten's. Had misguided idea of this being tiny and charming place (which it is) & that a lot of walking extraneous to going into a couple of book shops and pubs along my merry way to see Ms. Virginia would not be an issue.

My little toe on my left foot may now have to be amputated. Never has such a horrendous trauma been inflicted upon my body (except maybe when I got sunburned rrrrreally, really badly at the age of 13 and couldn't lift my arms higher than a 45* angle from my sides). Of course, once one's shoes are off and no breeze happens to blow anywhere in the vicinity, and IF you don't look at it, one rather might forget that it is there. If one is rather dim.

Now, how this came to be (and it was a lot of fun):
Left Cardiff yesterday at noon -- drinking leaded Coke like it was going out of style.
Arrived in Llandiddlyo at 2.30. Middle OF Nowhere -- quite charming.
Toodled my way to the main street by my nose since it really is a diddy place.
Found the cemetary :)
Bought some flowers.
Walked to the nursing home in the next village (mentioned above).
Got a recommendation for a place to stay from the people at the home.
Stopped in a pub to warm up. They also suggested two places to stay.
Began walking -- called inns.... too expensive.
Stopped in some shops, and since people do talk to me everywhere I go, got another recommendation for a more reasonable place to stay. BUT the girl didn't know the name of it, just that it was down the road and she wasn't sure how far and if it was before or after the third place on my list....
We're walking, we're walking. We're brave. We're beginning to think we're taking the 9.00 train back to Cardiff.
Got to third place on list -- totally too posh for me to go tramping into. Cloth napkins big giveaway. Also, too bright. Bright makes me nervous. People might see me.
Mother calls and gets all concerned for my safety since it is now dark and daughter is making attempt at unconcerned free-spiritedness :)
Bravely keep walking after finish conversation even though it looks like only sheep fields are ahead.
200 steps & light shines forth on tiny B&B sign. By this point, am in totally different village -- Rhosmaen. Knock on the door that I guess belongs to the B&B and the people take me right to a room that is tidy, clean and perfectly rated. Hoorah!
Now am hungry.
We're walking (past the cloth napkin place) back into town (1.5 miles maybe).
Dinner (sausages, naturally) at the Angel Hotel -- very nice. Highly recommend. Also, dimly-lit.
We're walking.
Did not bring warm enough pajamas.

Today:
Lovely, massive breakfast! And the landlady told me about a castle to walk to and a swinging bridge. Walked to castle first (in Llandeilo -- again 1.5-2 miles) and the sign said closed, so walked to find bridge, with these directions:

Walk to the church and, if you're coming up from Ffairfach, it will be on your right and you take the street to the right, immediately before the church and you twist and wind around this little street until you see a break in between the terraced houses and you go down that little foot-path and it winds through some fields and you get to the bridge.

My problem was discerning which was someone's driveway and which was a footpath. Ended up walking all the way back to the Llandeilo rail stop (not just a hop, skip and a jump away) before making eye contact with bridge. Picked way through muddy path, weeds and briars to get to bridge before seeing anyone. Was then asked if I were lost. "No, no! not me!" Walked back to town the other way, thereby acquainting self with actual location of "the break in the terraced houses."
Walked back to castle grounds, still closed sign, but decided to toodle down drive anyway since the intimidating person who had been standing in the driveway earlier was gone. Misjudged distance -- thought castle looked quite close, nice leisurely stroll, 20 minutes? Maybe a HOUR later, i found a sign -- guess which route was chosen! You betcha.

Was only person at entire Dinefwr castle ruin -- that was very,very nifty. It was really quiet there, not even many birds...
This castle ruin is from the 13 century, I think, although there was a castle here before that one. It was apparently an important military site in Deheubarth, the ancient kingdom of South-west Wales.

Limped out of castle grounds, back through Llandeilo, into Ffairfach, stopped for Sunday lunch (of Welsh lamb) at same pub. Saw Ms. Virginia again, and hobbled to train stop. The rest, you all sadly know...

Here is the funniest sign of the day. (WHO makes these??? I want their job.)