We've been banging on (or, as the kids have it, 'blogging') about our trip to Wales for so long now that we expect the effect is to make you, dear reader(s?), feel much as we did on awaking in our Swansea hotel after a night on the tiles - an overwhelming sense of doom, best summed up by the question: 'when will this nightmare end'?
Dr Matt and I, lacking the pub fitness of Dr Doug ("what, you don't drink at home?"), felt somewhat the worse for wear for our evening out, but we were confident that a hearty F.E.B. in the quiet comfort of the hotel's restaurant would restore us for the next stage of operations, a train trip to Haverfordwest and a ride to Fishguard.
Alas, a large group of people decided that peace and quiet would not be on the morning's menu, and sat in one corner of the restaurant apparently telling each other the world's funniest joke over and over and over, whilst shrieking with laughter every five seconds. We suspected they were keen on Jesus, or high, and Dr Doug suggested it was either Dr Matt or I's turn to say something ("I totally told those dudes last night"). Lacking the physical or moral strength to do so, we instead went back to the pastry nook and tried to force down another croissant.
The F.E.B. failed. I still felt awful. But it was now time to carry on, into the wind and cold blowing in from Swansea bay. I consoled myself with the thought that we'd have a nice train ride to try and sleep it off. We arrived at the station, and Dr Matt started negotiations on a group saver ticket for the train we'd spotted on the timetable I'd collected the night before.
I looked up at the departure board. Nothing much was showing. I asked someone when the next train to Haverfordwest was. They said 3pm. We rushed to abort Dr Matt's purchase, and engaged in a quick club meeting, the agenda of which was as follows:
- Apologies for absence
- Apologies for existence
- Minutes of last club meeting (missing)
- Airing of grievances
- Angry recriminations
- Blame apportionment
We didn't quit, we just ran out of trains.
So we decided to head back to London by train, abandoning the whole foolish, sorry, ill-starred escapade.
And started planning the next one.
On the Monday, when we would have been traveling back from Fishguard on our original plans, Dr Matt went to work to be concerned about index cards, Dr Doug continued with his sabbatical, and I took the Club Mascot and her mum to the aquarium.
So at least the the day still had something to do with fish.
(Insert 'Trois-Sea' joke here)
Thanks for joining us on our epic account of our epic ride. We hope you enjoyed it much more than we did.