A Brilliant Mistake

When Wales looks good, it looks really good

When I told a member of the London Scottish Regiment who had seen a tour of duty in Afghanistan that I was going to spend a week cycling and hiking in Wales he asked, "Is this some sort of court appointed punishment for some crime you've committed because I see no other reason to go there." This was only days after an SAS trainee had died after suffering heat exhaustion while on exercises in the Welsh park Brecon Beacons, near my destination. I admit I didn't expect heat exhaustion but worried more about drowning.

Now here, after an almost four hour train ride, I was sitting in a very quiet parlour drinking tea, as rain poured through the mist and an antique clock ticked loudly I was starting to wonder if this was a mistake.

"Probably" intoned a depressed inner voice.

Wouldn't I enjoy the flea markets and galleries of Paris more?

Probably.

Wouldn't I enjoy camping and cycling in Prince Edward County more?

Probably.

There was an intriguing scientific exhibition at the Maritime Museum in London, not to mention some of the best theatre in the world; wouldn't I enjoy that more?

Probably.

I don't even like B&B's and small inns, never mind lungs full of rain or soggy and boggy trails. What made me think this would be anything other than a mistake?

Just then the sun tore a great big hole through the turbulent clouds and heaven opened on the doorstep and I wondered, if this trip was a mistake, maybe it will be a brilliant one.