Arrival

 

I'll keep my posts brief this week as we've no working broadband here in the cabin, the view from which pictured above. Despite the curious high-pressure-induced mist, this is a very beautiful valley; quite unlike those to the north or the south of it. I realised that my post of last night is a tad misleading: we're actually staying across the border in Powys, rather than in Sîr Ddinbych [Denbighshire] itself. We will of course be roaming in and out of both counties over the next couple of days on our quest for family connections. We had a drink in The Hand before checking in at our rental: I had a couple of pints of very acceptable Bass ale in what can only be described as a good old-fashioned rural village pub: the kind of hostelry I remember and love from my earlier years and which sadly is on the decline in the second quarter of the twenty-first century. It might appear at first sight to the nervous interloper to be the very model on which The Slaughtered Lamb of "An American Werewolf in London" fame was based, but that would do the place a great disservice: it is, in fact, the very model of a perfect pub in my estimation; an exemplar of a sadly declining breed of social institution, the like of which, when gone, sadly, will never return...