I’m back from Wales. Which isn’t actually like coming back from Brigadoon, though Port Talbot was shrouded in mist and quite mysterious. But Sandfields Library was bright and lively and packed with people who came to “Meet the Author.” It was one of the best library talks I’ve ever given. Everyone was friendly and keen with questions for me. I had a marvelous time.
Quick impressions: the view from my car window showed hills, fields, woods, and green, green, and more green. A rugged coastline along the Bristol Channel. Horses. Sheep. Castles. Magnificent rugby training grounds. In Starbucks: a fly-half fueling up after his morning workout. On the motorway in Port Talbot: the vast British Steel works and a road sign warning, “Deer Crossing.”
And yes, Welsh is sometimes spoken in Wales. Brits know this, but folks on the west side of the Atlantic might not. Here’s a bi-lingual road sign. As for me, once I crossed the Severn Bridge I became Margred. Also Marged. And Mererid.
It was great.