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Summer 2005
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That evening, after Sam and Sophie had retired for the night, we relaxed on the terrace with Nip and Gill, drinking wine, discussing philosophy and the nature of the universe while listening to the sheep belching in the east field. With doe like eyes we gazed at the myriad of stars; we stared in disbelief at the satellites chasing one another and traversing the sky while manic shooting stars burnt up on re-entry in front of our very eyes.

The grasshoppers were betting on the satellites; which one would reach the doppelganger first. Hamish McSplodge won. Some of the others looked at him with great disdain. “You can not be serious” they chorused. How could he, an outsider, come all the way down from Scotland to take their money off them and him who was no better than he should be. “His mum was done for crashing her car” Silvia confided to her best friend and gossip,

“she was driving down a one way street the wrong way while staring in the rear view mirror and squeezing a spot on the end of her nose, and anyway he is only here because they have stopped filming Balamory so his singing talents, which were not all that good anyway, have been dispensed with.”
Grass hoppers can be so cruel.

Saturday 13th August 2005

We crept out of bed at the crack of dawn, around 9am, and gazed out onto the bleak rain soaked vista spread out before us. “What really killed the dinosaurs?” “Were they gifted and talented and if so in what area?” just a thought; what else was there to think about? Sam came up with the answer, he had his bucket and spade tightly clutched in his little hand, but no - it was the wrong answer, the right answer was retail therapy in Abersoch. The place was a seething mass of humanity crushed into its narrow streets and shops, not quite what Sam had in mind. Not quite what the rest of the males in the party had in mind either but as a consolation, after hours of shopping till

we dropped we were taken to Pwllheli where we repeated the experience; it was too much for us poor males, we just do not have the stamina!
On one famous occasion Laura told us:-
“I hate sheep, they are so dammed ugly!”
but not so Sophie. By the time we got back to the cottage she was getting exceedingly fractious and the best way to settle her was

either to shout “Yee Ha” or take her over to the sheep field; she loved them.

The evening saw us visiting Huw and Helen, it really was great to see them again after so many years but by now poor old Sam really had had enough. We compounded our series of misdemeanours by calling in on Marianne and Gareth along with their now grown up kids. Together they have created an incredible caravan park, it is brilliant and the mosaic that Gareth is putting on the wall is truly a work of art. On our return to the cottage Sophie and Sam were bathed and taken to bed.