A long ride on a two carriage train that crosses over a river on a small rickety bridge, goes through mountain tunnels and then emerges into breathtaking scenery to hug the coastline. From the window on one side: slate, sheep grazing on hills and masses of blue and purple hydrangeas spilling down mountains - fields sectioned by miles of dry stone walls. On the other side is the sea. Whenever the train passes people, they wave hello to it.
A celebration at a little house last seen thirty years ago, still the same. Good food and wine, a cake, at night a washing machine drum and some bricks make a great fire, watching stars fall - just look up. A walk to the beach - this beach.
A failed attempt was made to recreate this picture. More food and wine, more croquet, more tea. Many, many sausages later, a train back to where hydrangeas always go faded pink and life is less sweet. At the local station, after crossing the single track, you have to put your arm out to signal the driver to stop. Couldn't get over that. Stuck my arm out like a pro. Looking across fields to the little house - to see all of them waving madly from the end of the garden. Loved that. ♡
