The older/leftier/more musical amongst you may recognise the title of this post as a Billy Bragg album - of which The Husband is particularly fond. But my SO's musical tastes apart, the reason for this title is that we have been in deepest West Wales for the past week, and whilst having a delicious lunch in a little art gallery/cafe in Cardigan high street (What's that? Glamorous life? Well, yes, now you mention it) called Pendre Art, bumped into Mr Bragg himself (Billy, not Melvyn - do keep up). The Husband was unfeasibly excited and star-struck, so made a beeline for the solitarily tea-sipping chap. Fifteen minutes of chat about the demise of the Left in Britain, tea and the impact of BB's lyrics on The Husband's political views ensued. In general BB is very lovely, friendly and un-precious. A very unexpected and cheering encounter.
Other than that, the week in Wales was alternately lovely and stressful. A combination of organisational nightmares, and pub lunches in The Nag's Head, Abercych; fabulous Sunday lunches which left us groaningly full; wonderful local ale - Old Emrys, Cwrw, Hook Norton; glorious sunshine on Llangranog beach, but extremely chilly waves; evening sunset walks on Poppit Sands; and sadness and things past.
