Soft, salty rain lashes slate roofs. As most of the country basks in sunshine, the Welsh coast is a little damp. I care not one jot. Sitting in a cafe with a frothy coffee, overlooking the castle with a backdrop of pounding surf and cloud-shrouded mountains, is the best place to be. We've just explored the charity shop and found bright material for quilting and a fuschia pink jacket to light up Mum's face. Then she sits in the car as I run up and down the beach, chased by the waves and watching a heron fish in unique pool-to-pool style. Upturned jellyfish are everywhere, some with turquoise coloured innards. Turn up your collars and join me on the sand, arms outstretched like an eager seagull and laughing with the wind through bedraggled hair. There is so much natural happiness there. It's tempting to stay all day, but the beer festival beckons. I've already told Mum she's driving home, even though she's never turned the wheel in her life. Ah, shandy it is then.
Enjoy your weekend wanderings,