Now, where was I? Ah, yes, stories…

The Husband (TH) returned from looking for his friend. He’d gone to the address he’d been given by the woman in The Poetry Pharmacy, which he recognised as soon as he saw it because he had been there before (also, we send her a Christmas card every year!), to find it gutted with scaffolding outside. So he knocked on the door of the house next to it and a cheery young woman answered. He explained his plight. Kate had moved, she told him, as a couple of small children came to see what was what, ‘I’ll take you, it’s not far.’ He tried to dissuade her, ‘You have children…’, but she wasn’t to be deterred, ‘My husband can look after them!’ she declared.

So after some back and forth, he got into her car, and off they went in search of a retired headmistress who’s into wild swimming, and who always puts stamps on envelopes upside-down. They drove into a residential area, pulled up outside a house with a somewhat overgrown front garden, and knocked. No one home.

The young mother dropped him back in town where he saw a pub that advertised food. He went inside to see if he could book a table only to be told they don’t do food on a Sunday. But as he walked back to the hotel he found another, delighted he went in there. They didn’t serve food on a Sunday, either. Neither did the next place. He returned to the hotel.

Back in our room, he told me his tale as I went from amused to alarmed. He’d already eaten the little packet of chocolate chip cookies that came with the tea and coffee making facilities. Was there a chip shop, I wondered, or a supermarket from which we could get a sandwich? By the time his tale came to an end I almost didn’t hear, ‘so I’ve booked a table here for half-past six.’
‘What was that?’
‘Half past six.’
‘What about it?’
‘I’ve booked a table in the restaurant, here!’
‘Oh!’

We were seated in a tiny little window alcove by one of the friendliest waiters I’ve ever met. I wanted everything on the menu, but knowing if I had a first course I wouldn’t have room for pudding, I chose the Bouillabaisse. It was utterly delicious, the aioli that came in a little pot to blob on as I wished rivalled any I’ve had in the south of France. And the portion size was perfect for me, even though I ate every last scrap I had room for…

Rhubarb posset with buttery, friable shortbread biscuits. It was almost too good: creamy and smooth and balanced perfectly with the faintly acidic rhubarb. Rhubarb and custard eat your heart out! TH had Bubble and Squeak (see previous post for photo) followed by the Cheese Board. He seemed very pleased with his choices.

After stuffing ourselves we decided to go for a walk, so we strolled down the hill, rambled round a few charming streets, and ended up in the graveyard of an ancient church. They have a policy of not mowing where mowing is not absolutely necessary. And I have to say this really added to the atmosphere, it was fairy-tale stuff, I can imagine Neil Gaiman or George Saunders beginning a novel in such a place.

The whole town is as picturesque as a narrative poem, with lots of secret passageways and back alleys. Lovely in the setting sun.

The next day we went back to the Poetry Pharmacy, where we browsed idly, and picked up one or two delightful things, including a birthday gift for our granddaughter, Charlotte, two books for me, a book for TH, and a tote. I do love a tote. I’m so happy I finally made it there, and I hope I’ll get to go again.

Before leaving Bishop’s Castle, and heading back up the road to Scotland, we decided to try TH’s friend’s house again, and she was in! She’d just returned from running a guided walk in the Brecon Beacons and took us in and made us tea. We chatted in her delightful kitchen for an hour or so, it was she who told us about the no mow policy in the graveyard. She was, in fact, instrumental in brining it about, having seen it elsewhere. It was a hard sell, she said, but now everyone loves it. I’m so tempted to try and instigate a similar policy here, but I know I already do more voluntary stuff than I can deal with, so I might suggest it to someone with more energy.

And that is the story of our visit to Bishop’s Castle. I can’t recommend the place highly enough!