To gad: (foll. by about, abroad, around) go about idly or in search of pleasure. That's it then. I've become a gadabout. Not that I haven't always enjoyed gadding about... it's just that whereas in the past my gadding was often in pursuit of another with whom I might partake of pleasurable pursuits, at my ripe old age my aim is to visit as many UK places of interest as time and energy allows.
Here in Weston-super-Mare we're lucky enough to have coach firm that offers day trips as well as short and long getaways. So when I picked up the fall brochure I was like a kid in a candy store and booked several outings. The first was a visit to the Tower of London and the commemorative poppy display and my next to the market at Aberganney in Wales. These local markets are real crowd pullers where one can take in local crafts and buy foods specific to the area. Welsh cakes are one yummy example, and the views along the Wye Valley are eye candy of the highest order!
Often I embark on my days out alone but invariably chat up the person sitting next to me, as was the case recently when I met Sandra while waiting for the bus to Wells' market. Having struck up a budding friendship, I invited her along to Abergavenny. The day was sunny and warm, and after cruising the market stands and making our purchases, we chatted over a long lunch before heading home.
The next week, alone this time, I boarded the coach for Looe and Polperro -- two qaint towns on the south Cornish coast. During our two-hour stop a Looe, I wandered along the east bank before taking a five-minute ferry ride to the west quay. (Luckily the tide was in.) On each side of the inlet the views of the sea were spectacular. The fishing fleet had returned to offload their catch, followed by large flocks of hungry, screeching seagulls.
Then it was on to Polperro a short ride west, there to explore yet another unspoiled coastal village, complete with narrow streets bordered by ancient whitewashed stone buildings, leading down to the sea and yet more breathtaking views of the Atlantic Ocean.
A week later St Fagan's was my next port of call, and although I've visited this Welsh National Museum twice before I never tire of wandering about the grounds and through so many structures that reflect Wales' unique heritage. The site is that of a stately home, called The Castle, and donated by the owners for all to enjoy free of charge. The entire village is made up of so many buildings and dwellings originally scattered across the country, taken apart stone-by-stone and reconstructed on site to emulate life in Wales throughout the ages.
Looking back now on the all-too-few years I spent in the company of my paternal grandmother before we emigrated, I see that I am following in her footsteps. She was a gadabout too; nothing made her happier than sitting in the back of my parents' car for a Sunday drive, on a coach or the top of a double-decker bus. As a youngster, I couldn't understand her penchant for getting about when all we saw was a British landscape and at our destination enjoying a cup of tea, fish and chips and maybe even an ice cream. It is only now that I've reached the age that she was then that I fully appreciate her love of England and... gadding about!
PS. For some reason I can't load the pictures for this blog. If anyone has any suggestions as to why, please let me know. Thanks.
Here in Weston-super-Mare we're lucky enough to have coach firm that offers day trips as well as short and long getaways. So when I picked up the fall brochure I was like a kid in a candy store and booked several outings. The first was a visit to the Tower of London and the commemorative poppy display and my next to the market at Aberganney in Wales. These local markets are real crowd pullers where one can take in local crafts and buy foods specific to the area. Welsh cakes are one yummy example, and the views along the Wye Valley are eye candy of the highest order!
Often I embark on my days out alone but invariably chat up the person sitting next to me, as was the case recently when I met Sandra while waiting for the bus to Wells' market. Having struck up a budding friendship, I invited her along to Abergavenny. The day was sunny and warm, and after cruising the market stands and making our purchases, we chatted over a long lunch before heading home.
The next week, alone this time, I boarded the coach for Looe and Polperro -- two qaint towns on the south Cornish coast. During our two-hour stop a Looe, I wandered along the east bank before taking a five-minute ferry ride to the west quay. (Luckily the tide was in.) On each side of the inlet the views of the sea were spectacular. The fishing fleet had returned to offload their catch, followed by large flocks of hungry, screeching seagulls.
Then it was on to Polperro a short ride west, there to explore yet another unspoiled coastal village, complete with narrow streets bordered by ancient whitewashed stone buildings, leading down to the sea and yet more breathtaking views of the Atlantic Ocean.
A week later St Fagan's was my next port of call, and although I've visited this Welsh National Museum twice before I never tire of wandering about the grounds and through so many structures that reflect Wales' unique heritage. The site is that of a stately home, called The Castle, and donated by the owners for all to enjoy free of charge. The entire village is made up of so many buildings and dwellings originally scattered across the country, taken apart stone-by-stone and reconstructed on site to emulate life in Wales throughout the ages.
Looking back now on the all-too-few years I spent in the company of my paternal grandmother before we emigrated, I see that I am following in her footsteps. She was a gadabout too; nothing made her happier than sitting in the back of my parents' car for a Sunday drive, on a coach or the top of a double-decker bus. As a youngster, I couldn't understand her penchant for getting about when all we saw was a British landscape and at our destination enjoying a cup of tea, fish and chips and maybe even an ice cream. It is only now that I've reached the age that she was then that I fully appreciate her love of England and... gadding about!
PS. For some reason I can't load the pictures for this blog. If anyone has any suggestions as to why, please let me know. Thanks.
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