To start with the visit to London, I went to Paddington from Reading, which is much quicker and easier than the Anglian line to Liverpool Street – though then getting to Islington by Tube, though no great distance, involved three trains.  I met the chap from the damp curing company and it’s all very depressing.  And expensive – even if I can make an insurance company pay for the remedial work (two will probably be involved), it’ll be costly in terms of lost rent and, just as important to me, in stress.  I avoid and walk away from it whenever possible and, though I keep up with the newspapers, I rarely watch or listen to news.  It’s far too much for me and I’m self-protective.

I went on to the National Gallery, to lunch first – must feed the inner Z well at all times – and I had a consoling glass of wine.  I went to see the Michelangelo and Sebastiano exhibition, which was really good.  And then I got a bit lost on my way out, which was fine because I ambled past a good many other old NG friends – and realised I must spend time there again soon – and then I headed back to Reading and Tim.

I was absolutely prepared for, and wanted to be single.  It felt safer and more comfortable that way.  But then it changed.  And being in the wrong relationship is awful but being in the right one is wonderful.  And Tim was there waiting for me and he’s pretty wonderful, as I may have mentioned once or twice before.

The next morning, we set off for Pembrokeshire and managed, by sheer good fortune, to be going past the fabulous pub we stop at if it’s the right time of day, at the right time of day.  The White Hart in Llanddarog, it is and, if you click on the link, you’ll find they’ve bagged the best website name too.  All the people working there are members of the same family and they are so clearly happy, hospitable and genuinely pleased to have you as a customer – as well as to give you excellent food and drink – that it’s truly heart-warming.    It’s near the end of our journey, so we’re already feeling the holiday spirit by the time we get there, and it’s a pleasure.

It took a while to get things going, once we arrived at the caravan.  The water attachments didn’t want to attach – one of them, anyway – and the shower sprayed a bit until I took it in hand.  Later in the early hours, the recalcitrant water thingy failed again and LT had to leap out and turn it off to stop the (outside) flood.  But Joseph produced a replacement part the next morning so all was well.

And the day gave us fabulous weather.  We’d not made it to Tenby, only a few miles away, last year, but we drove there in the sunshine and walked along the beach and through the town.  It’s all so pretty and welcoming.  I took lots of photos and will post a few, once I’ve taken them off my phone and onto the computer.  We bought postcards for the grandchildren, and also one for Rog and Mrs Rine, as they love the town too and should have been here, were it not for Rog’s hip hip hooray operation the next week (which was earlier this week, as I write).  And then we went back to Narberth and found somewhere for a jolly nice lunch and then we relaxed back at the caravan.  We were on holiday after all.