I am always trying to prod my little family to go on outings. Last Sunday, I made them go to Carlingford, which is supposed to be picturesque and charming.
We arrived to a light but persistent drizzle. We had to abandon the picnic but lunch in a nice pub where the staff were fantastic did much to cheer us all up. We emerged in slightly heavier rain. Undaunted, we decided to go for a nice walk at the base of the mountain. Based on the only map available, I thought it would take about 15 minutes.
An hour later we were still tramping along the path in driving rain, peering at the only map we had (you’ve seen it, we were inspecting it on the camera screen) wondering where we had gone astray. There may have been beautiful views, in fact I am sure there were but it was hard to see through the cloud. We cut cross-country and squelched back to the village. Soaking. Oh so wet.
On the plus side, there was a sale in the village hall (dry! indoors!) and we bought lemon curd, sage jelly and jam from this woman. The sage jelly is one of the best things I’ve ever tasted and herself has already polished off half the lemon curd. But yet, the family consensus is that I am barred from taking them on any further outings.
No sooner had we left Carlingford, than the sun came out. It was quite warm for the remainder of the day. It gave us a chance to dry out the coats.
