Fri 2 June - cool, Wales roads, Crickhowell, Psycodlyn, blade fuses, Abergavenny
On checking Google Maps in the vicinity of the campsite (where would we be without Google Maps?), I found that there was an electician located just across the road from the campsite, and a Peugeot car dealership just up the road. The electrician must have been working from home, but all the entrance gates to the house property were locked so I couldn't contact them. So I walked up to the Peugeot dealer and met a salesperson, and explained my need for a 15 amp blade fuse. He asked me to wait a minute while he went to check in the workshop. A couple of minutes later he returned with two blade fuses. When I asked the cost, he just said "on the house". I thanked him and headed home, but later I wrote a Google Review for them, since such customer service (and I wasn't even a customer) deserves to be recognised. When I got back to the van, I inserted the fuse, and Voila, let there be lights!
On my way back to the van I saw several squirrels scurrying in the bushes along the footpath. But each time they were too quick for me to get my camera out. So, no photos.
In the late afternoon, we hopped on our bikes and headed into the town centre of Abergavenny (singing the Marty Wilde song in my head all the way). We headed for "Abergavenny Castle", but when we got there, we discovered that it was not in quite the same condition as some of the recent castles we have seen.
So we went for a walk around town, before we heard some music and then found the King's Arms pub, when a singer/guitarist was playing in the "beer garden" with lots of people seated at tables having drinks and meals. We waited for a while until a table became free, and then quickly snaffled it. We ordered some drinks but when we went to order a meal from the menu on the table, we were told that the kitchen had closed, because they had a function in a private room and were short-staffed (the second time we'd missed a meal because of short-staffing in the past couple of days - Brexit seems to be working well!). But we enjoyed our drinks, and the music, and the atmosphere. After the singer finished a set, Rita went up to talk to him to see if he was playing again here tomorrow (with an idea about her joining in with the pan), but unfortunately he had two gigs in other towns tomorrow.
As evening approached, we hopped on our bikes to head back to the van in the fading daylight, where we cooked our own meal and had a generally relaxing evening.
Despite scoring nearly 100 points, the Hawks were soundly beaten this morning by Port Adelaide who scored 150 points. So our attack was OK, but our defence was terrible, especially in the first half when we were outscored 16 goals to 3 (but at least we won the second half 11 goals to 7).
From our campsite, we could see a hill/mountain called Sugarloaf. Perhaps because there is a peak near Taggerty called Sugarloaf (which we climbed soon after we moved to Taggerty, before we know any better), we decided to also climb this Sugarloaf to complete the set. While the Taggerty Sugarloaf is a short, steep rocky climb, the Abergavenny Sugarloaf is a long, gradual climb with grass, tracks and some rocks (although both are probably similar changes in elevation). As we reached the top, the wind picked up from the back side of the hill, which gave Rita a windswept look as she posed with the cairn atop the hill, just to prove that we really did get to the top.
Sat 3 June - Hawks, ride to Sugarloaf, climb, sheep, Kings Arms
Having reached the top, we deciided it was time to relax for a while. So we headed to the leeward side of the hill and lay in the grass, as we looked out over the town of Abergavenny (you can take this as the photo of Abergavenny I promised to send you). From the position of Abergavenny at the mouth of this valley, you can see why Abergavenny is often referred to as The Gateway to Wales.
As the afternoon wore on, we realised we would soon have to go back down the mountain. But at least the walk down was a lot easier than the walk up. Near the end of the walk down, we rested under a tree that we had seen on the way up. We soon realised we had company. As Rita sat very still and quiet (and I hid with camera behind the tree), we were joined by an inquisitive lamb, and then by her mother. They approached slowly, quietly and without fear, and just continued to nibble at the soft grass underfoot.
In the evening, we headed on down to the Kings Arms again, but tonight there was no live music (just recorded music). But at least we got a meal tonight, and soaked up more atmosphere, before heading home for an early night.
The Melbourne Storm continued their topsy-turvy NRL season, when they were soundly beaten by North Queensland Cowboys 45-20. One never knows which team will turn up from week to week.
After our big walk yesterday, we decided to stay put today at Psycodlyn, but just move the van to a slightly sunnier position, so that we could enjoy the sunshine, where we spent the day mostly reading. In the early afternoon, Rita went to a nearly chapel to play and record her flute for an upcoming gig. By later afernoon, the sun had moved the tree shade over our van again, but at least we had a nice spot for our table and chairs for a sunlit dinner.
Sun 4 June - Storm, extra day, move to sunny location, reading, chapel, Aussies
At the end of the day, another van entered the campsite and parked next to us. We thought we recognised some familar accents, and on enquiring, we met up with Dave and Sue from Sydney, who were also travelling around the UK. We swapped stories of where we'd been and where we were going, before both of us settled down for the night.
The day dawned cool again at Bury View, so we turned over and went to sleep again. Eventually, the pangs of hunger forced us out of bed and into the kitchen of Vanumbra (about 1.5m away from the bedroom) for breakfast, where we decided we had to move on. We could have gone due north through England towards Scotland, but in looking at the maps I recognised the two names of Pontypool and Abergavenny across the border in Wales. I can't remember why Pontypool rang a bell with me, but I was sure I knew the name Abergavenny from an old pop song. A bit of Googling reminded me that the song was by Marty Wilde, with the catchy lyrics "Taking a trip up to Abergavenny, hoping the weather is fine; If you can't go, then I promise to show you a photograph". So we made an on-the-spot decision to go up the Abergavenny and take some photographs (hoping the weather is fine).
So we packed up and headed west towards Bristol, where the traffic on the motorway was very heavy (we hoped we hadn't made a mistake by coming this way). Eventually, however, as we crossed the border and left the main roads, the traffic lightened. The roads in Wales were much better than those in southern England, and I could relax and drive without worrying too much about keeping on my side of the road. In looking at the campsite apps, we saw a highly-rated, yet affordable, site in the village of Crickhowell. However, when we got there, I missed the turnoff into the campsite and, because of the narrowness of the roads within the village, we had to drive for several miles before I could turn around and come back to the campsite. When we got to the campsite, another campervan had just entered and, as luck would have it, they got the last vacant space. We talked to the manager and he apologised, but then mentioned several other campsites in the vicinity who might have a vacancy. One of them was back towards Abergavenny itself, and so since I wanted to go there anyway, we decided to try that one at Psycodlyn first. Luckily, while busy, they still had some campervan sites available, so we got a nice powered site on the lawns and near some trees. Indeed, the Psycodlyn campsite appeared to be much better than the Crickhowell site, and even cheaper. So we struck it lucky.
One little problem we had been having with the campervan over the past several days was that all the lights on the right side of the van had gone kaput. So, I now dug out the Manual that I had copied from another Fleurette owner back in Roanne last year to see if I could diagnose the problem. It said that the lighting in the van was connected to two fuses in the house-battery compartment, so I thought that perhaps one of the fuses had blown (explaining why only only half the lights had gone out). And on checking the fuses, I did indeed find that one of the blade fuses had blown.