Introduction
The first year we were to celebrate MsW’s birthday by communing in the UK and not some celebrated European capital.
Our location for this first iteration of the walking weekend was a house outside of Felinfach, about five miles northwest of Brecon, Lower Argoed.
However, our wholesome vision of a walking weekend would have to wait another year as Britain’s last full-scale foot and mouth epidemic was in full flight by the time we arrived - no walking was permitted in the countryside.
On a personal note, I made the journey to LA in a Hyundai Accent Coupe, a car second only in awfulness of all those I have ever driven.
It was a courtesy car from the garage where my Peugeot was being repaired.
But given how worn, loose and sloppy everything was about it, especially the gearchange, was I was led to assume that courtesy is defined as “&@*# you, sucker!”
Nevertheless, I survived the drive and had an excellent stop-off in Tewkesbury, enjoying a trip to the abbey and a wander around the town centre, featuring many fine buildings from the medieval through the Georgian.
Whilst in the car park, I was called by an estate agent telling me that my offer on a house had been accepted.
What follows is my best effort at recalling the events of the weekend, aided by my poor selection of disposable camera photos and MsW’s better selection of early digital images.
Friday
As noted, we had planned for the relative isolation of our accommodation,
and so spent the first evening in, and appear to have enjoyed some home cooking.
To quote MrB, "As for cooking, I have no memory of cooking anything which required Pastry. I do remember once cooking a pasta on one weekend away which did require grilled Peppers, which did feature in the mountain of booze on the table photo, and it could be that was the meal we had in Lower Argoed."
This was followed by the obligatory rounds of Perudo and drinking into the small hours and to a level of excess that would hospitalise us today.
Saturday
Photographically, this day is a bit of a black hole; however, I recall we did attempt some walking around the local roads and ended up spending some time at the recently (re)opened Griffin at Felinfach.
Walking also led us to the pub at Pwllgloyw, which at the time may have been the Seland Newydd and was run by a young scouse chef and his girlfriend, who had recently left London for a different life.
We stayed for a couple of drinks, and maybe played darts and/or watched the football.
Dinner saw us reconvene at the Griffin.
We returned home to, inevitably, more drinks and a game of "Jeu de Paris", for those with the appetite.
Sunday
In an effort to find entertainment, I and a few others (who?) headed off to the nearby Brecon Leisure Centre for a frame of ten-pin bowling.
This didn’t work out too well as the pinsetter* had started working randomly, dropping/knocking over ten-pins whilst it disintegrated of its own accord.
*The name, apparently, for the machine that resets the tenpins after a frame.
Vaguely amusing for a short while.
I don’t recall if we got our money back, but we left the somewhat bleak facility and headed home.
Here, entertainment was created by testing the adage that one can throw raw eggs over a house, and if they land on a lawn, they’ll survive.
Accordingly, eggs were thrown from the road behind the house over and onto the lawn in front, and yes, they mostly survived.
Our amusement was capped off by trying to throw a tennis ball through an open hopper window on the top floor of the house.
I was surprised when DrH succeeded with his first attempt and then astounded when the ball bounced straight back out!
Our incredulity is captured in the photo below by MsW, who was sitting on the pot next to the hopper window!
Our day was rounded off by a wander to Felinfach, where we visited the Plough and Harrow and had a very pleasant few pints and a chat with the landlord, who I think had been a sergeant in the army.
Dinner at the Griffin again.
Back home, the remainder of the evening followed form, the only perturbation being my childish impulse to take the slippers off a sleeping MrM and put them on the fire.
Afterword
I’m sure the Monday journey home was the usual dog day, but despite not walking, the walking weekend had provided wonderful company and much amusement.
So much so, that 25 years on, I’m looking to join many of those present for the latest instalment next month, our Silver Anniversary!
We shall raise a glass to those who can’t be with us.
Bob, Feb 2026.