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Antheil
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« Reply #5100 on: 20:50:27, 30-07-2008 » |
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Oh, The Owl Service! Yes! And you know the Mabinogi? Truly Martle you are are a Welsh Treasure! (Hastily checks train timetables to Aber) Mrs. Pugh "I saw you talking to a Saint this morning, Saint Polly Garter, she was Martyred again last night. Mrs. Organ Morgan saw her with Mr. Waldo."  |
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Reality, sa molesworth 2, is so sordid it makes me shudder
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Eruanto
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« Reply #5101 on: 21:02:27, 30-07-2008 » |
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Ooh, chain of ideas for holiday sparked there, M. Ever read Alan Garner's The Owl Service? I fear not. I attempted The Weirdstone of Brisingamen years ago, and didn't get very far... |
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"It is not our part to master all the tides of the world, but to do what is in us for the succour of those years wherein we are set"
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Ron Dough
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« Reply #5102 on: 21:04:41, 30-07-2008 » |
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Your train to Aber will be a maraddon, look you, cariad. Up to Shrewsbury it is, and then across to Dovey Junction before the journey South to Aber. Three sides of a trapezoid, isn't it?
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Antheil
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« Reply #5103 on: 21:15:08, 30-07-2008 » |
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Ron, if you are Welsh, trapezoids are to be sniffed at!  |
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Reality, sa molesworth 2, is so sordid it makes me shudder
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martle
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« Reply #5104 on: 21:58:43, 30-07-2008 » |
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Your train to Aber will be a maraddon, look you, cariad. Up to Shrewsbury it is, and then across to Dovey Junction before the journey South to Aber. Three sides of a trapezoid, isn't it?
Yes, and the stop you need is the one before Aber, Anty. I'll be waving a sheep shank and a sprig of rosemary on the platform, just so you know it's me. And I'll have a copy of the Mabby stuffed up my jumper, look you. Then it will be a gin and It down at the Railway pub, now.  So I came out the pub, and there was my bike! GONE!! |
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Green. Always green.
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A
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« Reply #5105 on: 22:05:25, 30-07-2008 » |
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You do know the one about the vicar who lost his bike don't you?...
A
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Well, there you are.
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Eruanto
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« Reply #5106 on: 22:08:36, 30-07-2008 » |
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Three sides of a trapezoid, isn't it? Still not quite as convoluted as to Criccieth / Pwllheli, though! That includes a quarter-hour wait/ fag-break* at Harlech (with or without schoolkids) as well. *The giving-up smoking room hasn't been entered for so long the doors have cobwebs. |
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"It is not our part to master all the tides of the world, but to do what is in us for the succour of those years wherein we are set"
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Ron Dough
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« Reply #5107 on: 22:12:32, 30-07-2008 » |
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Ah, I only ever went by train as far as Towyn, eru.
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Antheil
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« Reply #5108 on: 22:21:47, 30-07-2008 » |
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Martle,
You do not have to have the Mabby stuffed up your jumper or a sprig of rosemary in your hand. If fellow Celts cannot bond on a remote Welsh railway platform we have no hope of World Domination.
Who's coat is that jacket anyway?
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Reality, sa molesworth 2, is so sordid it makes me shudder
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martle
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« Reply #5109 on: 22:28:04, 30-07-2008 » |
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This is the one, Ants -  But no swimming today. Windy!! |
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Green. Always green.
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Ron Dough
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« Reply #5110 on: 22:30:03, 30-07-2008 » |
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Will it not resemble Brief Encounter in reverse, as Anty and Marty meet upon a windswept platform, with only a copy of the Mabinogion standing between them?
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Antheil
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« Reply #5111 on: 22:40:20, 30-07-2008 » |
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Will it not resemble Brief Encounter in reverse, as Anty and Marty meet upon a windswept platform, with only a copy of the Mabinogion standing between them?
Oh Ron, The mere thought of it has brought a smut to my eye. Is the Mabinogi the only thing Martle has stuffed up his jumper? Are you sure there is there not some Parmesan Cheese and Puy Lentils? Maybe a little Chorizo? Indeed a Veritable Feast which may take precedence over Welsh fairy tales. NOM! |
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Reality, sa molesworth 2, is so sordid it makes me shudder
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Bryn
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« Reply #5112 on: 22:51:08, 30-07-2008 » |
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Ah, I only ever went by train as far as Towyn, eru.
Ah, that's where I did my Army Outward Bound course. Happy days. |
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Ron Dough
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« Reply #5113 on: 22:55:03, 30-07-2008 » |
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With no vestige of a Refreshment Room under the forlorn canopy, it would indeed be useful for young Marty to have set up his camping-gaz burner with a billy-can of provender already puttering ready to greet the weary traveller as she alights from the carriage, where, beyond doubt, her only available travelling sustenance will have been peculiarly packaged tea or coffee with gritty textured UHT milk, served in uninsulated, self-destructing cardboard cups with optional pre-packaged junk-food snacks, all at a price that nearly approaches those charged in Moscow cafes.
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Baz
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« Reply #5114 on: 00:01:30, 31-07-2008 » |
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You do know the one about the vicar who lost his bike don't you?...
A
Can't say I do, but let me guess: possibly he had forgotten he had left it chained up to one of the stations of the cross, and in any case couldn't remember which one. Am I close?  Baz |
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