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We are in Pembrokeshire, again.

Viola and I took the train. It was packed. It is probably the best part of two decades since I took a train from Reading to South Wales. I used to go regularly as child to visit my grandparents. Julia and I would get the train from Reading to Cardiff Central where GG (or Grampa as he was known then) and Grandma would pick us up in their VW camper van before taking us out for a pub lunch (invariably the Fox and Hounds in Llancarfan) where we would be forced to eat things because we once expressed some preference for them. For Julia this resulted in having to*always* have a prawn cocktail. I digress.

Twenty years ago there weren’t mobile phones. Need I say more?

Anyway we had a fairly standard day at ‘number 6’. We started the day without bacon sandwiches but never mind. After much pottering, a spot of lunch, and the realisation that my netbook had developed an annoying fault, we headed down to the beach; Newgale. We walked, we threw balls, for a lovely couple of hours in the glorious autumn sun. Dylan behaved himself for *most* of the time.

After a brief rest we headed out for dinner. To the legendary Arberth Narberth or as it known in Wales, Arberth, or as it is known in England, Narberth. Out destination being The Carreg Restaurant. A novel restaurant, to some of us at least, where the unique selling point is cooking your food yourself on a bloody hot slab of rock. A variety of meats and fish are available. I had kangaroo, Sheila had ostrich, some had swordfish, and some had bloody expensive fillet steak. A fantastic meal - at £300+ it should have been.

And now we sit. Five adults spread across the three sections of the lounge. Some of us drinking pink cava mixed with sprite.

A good day.