Another wet and windy day here in Cardigan. Clearly not as wet and windy as Cockermouth where hundreds are destined to be in temporary accomodation for months. So thanking my lucky stars, my journey home from viewing Stephen Jones’ Henllan Salerooms, allowed me time to stop on photograph the River Teifi. The broad winding stretch underneath the not so new castle at Newcastle Emlyn was happily colonised by sea gulls foraging for who knows what. At Cenarth Falls the spate was so great that the falls seemed to have disappeared; and down stream below the indomitable bridge the water was surging, twisting and doing its best to be thoroughly frightening. Towards Llechryd (home of my former band, the Llechryd Light Orchestra) the river course had spilled its banks and then some. The road was clear but the bridge was under though cars could splash across.
Anyway it was dusk and the skies were clearing enough to show a rosy glow and a skein of geese like me, driving themselves home.
More on a watery theme and as far as I’m aware without Rory McGrath.
This festival has become an annual event for Cardigan and makes great use of the River Teifi as backdrop with boats buzzing about and rowers grunting and groaning in unison.
A rather lovely way to spend the afternoon though I suggest a big pocket full of hard currency and no breakfast. Somehow crispy duck seems just WRONG at 2.30pm. Plenty for children to do (in particular a VERY long and boring queue for face painting) and, of course, eat. Though the thing that children do with highly coloured extruded sugary things probably isn’t technically ‘eating’ is it? It’s more like substance misuse.
Best things? Lots of lovely people, being mistaken by a visitor for someone who might know something about the history of Cardigan, real lemonade, being asked if I could teach a Dreamweaver Course, and meeting the people from the Cardigan and District Agricultural and Maritime Museum (they don’t actually HAVE a museum so don’t ask me where it is).