Getting to the curry house proved more difficult than originally thought, if you own a car you can get to it easily via the dual carriageway that runs outside Ruabon, it's right next to the road. However getting there by foot meant an in depth look at the area on Google maps in 'terrain' mode, where we found what looked like a dirt path connecting the nearest pedestrian way with the restaurant through some woods. We eventually found this path, but instead of dirt, it was just a mud path with no helpful lighting and also went over a river and so was a little bit difficult to navigate in the dark (and if you're scared of rapid running natural water sources like me, the river was an added sense to heighten my nerves). We found our way to the restaurant eventually, and sat down with a nice white wine (mine) and Michael enjoyed a beer - smashing our alcohol virginity one gulp at a time. We enjoyed the meal, even though it took a while to get to us which meant we began feeling the effects of our drinks way too quickly (not drinking for a month makes you an instant lightweight) and we also had a delightful chat with one of the waiters who inspired us with his own life story of living in London then moving out to Wales in 1991 and never wanting to go back as Wales was such a nice and relaxing place to live, huzzah!
Traipsing back through the death track with a distended belly full of curry and wine, I started to feel very sleepy and it was only 9pm - Michael had to really push me to make the best pub in the world before closing time. We got there, and, tentatively entered the establishment as nonchalantly as we could, wholeheartedly thinking we'd be sniffed out as 'foreigners' within seconds and banished for life from the pub and the whole of Wales in general. I made Michael go first, so he could take the full blow of any first attack, I'd take up the rear thinking I could kick, bite and scream my way out of any second wave. Instead we were meekly glanced at by the locals who seemed more bothered about buying a Chinese takeaway or who had ordered a taxi that was impatiently waiting outside for a lady called Steff, I don't know if Steff really existed or, if she did, if she even managed to make her chariot - there was a lot of talk about her being in the loo. The mystery is yet to be solved.
The pub owners brew their own ales under the name of McGivern, unfortunately the only McGivern ale on was a bitter and I'm not too keen on bitters so I went for a pale ale called Oracle, Michael had one of these and then later had the bitter which actually tasted amazing, it was called McGivern's Bitter, of course. Come 10pm, I think Michael could sense that all the rich food and drink had gone to my head, I think he could tell this from the way I sleepily laid my head on his shoulder for 90% of our conversations, with my eyes either completely shut or very slowly blinking. It was time to get this slightly drunk panda bear to bed. And that I did, at 10:30pm. That's how it goes here in Wales. Happily, after months of noise problems with our Leeds neighbours, we finally got a proper Friday night of pure sleep!
Saturday rolled it's wonderful happy head over us and we decided to visit Chester, we'd both never been there before and let's just say, we were very impressed. Well done Chester, well done indeed. I had an amazing lunch of Yorkshire Pudding and roast vegetables with gravy, we picked up some bits and bobs for the house, Michael went off to buy a drill on some industrial estate on the outskirts of town and I waited in a lovely cafe (imagine a mix of wooden and Formica tables and all the teapots were old and delicate with flowery designs) drinking tea and eavesdropping on some Irish women who were marveling over the fact that in Newcastle you can get a Greggs 24/7. Returning home, we decided to watch Harold and Maude - a film I would recommend to cheer anyone up. I especially loved the fact that CatStevens is the entire soundtrack
 |
| Tea cup and saucer with delicate flower patterns...drool. |
 |
| Blue flowers with a gold trim...continue to drool. |
Sluggish Sunday encroached as lazy as always, and we planned to go on the Ruabon heritage trail. Throwing tea in a flask and some fruit cake carefully wrapped in foil, we set off from Ruabon Library, past the Alms Houses and up through Pleasant Mount church onto muddy fields and horse riding trails to marvel at King Offa's Dyke and a Welsh iron age hill fort. The dyke, built by the English King Offa to keep the Welsh out was now occupied by several horses who looked at us quizzically as we marveled the slight incline under their hooves. There wasn't much of the hill fort there, a helpful sign explained that most of the remains had been destroyed due to agricultural needs. The most exciting part of the day was walking through the Rocky Woods to find that instead of it being inhabited by elderly Italian-American boxers, it was instead the home to a couple of Greater Spotted Woodpeckers! I have never had the pleasure of seeing these wonderful birds in the wild before and so this was an amazing experience. We stood and watched the two birds for about 15 minutes before they then decided to chase each other through the trees and at great speed through the air until they flew out of our sights. I couldn't take any photos due to not having a zoom lens on me.
 |
| Ruabon heritage trail signage |
 |
| Horses on dykes - hope they foal Offa it! |
 |
| Dance kitten! |
So that was our weekend, we've just had dinner consisting of baked sweet potatoes with some melted bonfire smoked cheddar that we picked up at Chester indoor market, it's one of the best cheeses my tongue has ever dabbled with.
We have a packed few days ahead of us, and I will update you later on in the week.
No comments:
Post a Comment