Liz Going On

"’The Field’ - which isn’t actually a field, but merely a place containing fewer rocks than any other place on the island".

I had a bizarre series of telephone conversations yesterday.

Andrew and I are going to a wedding in three weeks. Its about 25 miles from Mum’s house, so Mum was going to kindly drive us, but now she has to miss the wedding so I spent some of yesterday looking at different options.

Firstly I thought about a taxi. But as its quite a way it would cost 75 pounds return.

Then I phoned all the bed and breakfast places near the hotel (the hotel itself is quite small and very very pricey). The first one b and b was fully booked, but she suggested I phone Emily, who also had a b and b. 

I managed to phone the whole village and it was all booked.

So I thought about camping.  I searched and found a phone number for the "Lake Vyrnwy Tourist Information office" so I called it .  Sadly the office closed many years ago, said the nice lady. But she wouldn’t let me go, and offered to help me. 

I told her the situation and how I was looking for a campsite preferably walking distance from the hotel.  Firstly she listed all the b and b’s which I’d already phoned (just to check I hadn’t missed any) and then she said there wasn’t really a campsite, but there was "the field".

She went on at length about this field. It had no water or facilities, but the public toilets are sort of near by. She said we could probably pitch a tent there, and it was a bit of a walk from the hotel, but it’d be downhill for us and very very dark.

I asked who owned the field and was told to phone a number and I could speak to any of the family. It was just getting weirder and weirder…. However then she told me the name of the field owner, so I phoned him.

I felt like quite a fruitcake phoning up to ask if I could camp in "the field". I asked where it was and it was next to "the football pitch", just along from "the shop" and 400 yards from "the public toilets". The farmer man said if I asked in the shop they’d tell me where the field was. And it only costs £2 per night to camp there. 

So while the rest of the wedding party are living it up in the posh hotel, Andrew and I will be braving it in "the field". I’m sure it’ll be a great adventure…..

RIP Father Ted. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Good_Luck,_Father_Ted