Thought we’d best make an effort today and get off our ‘localised’ arses and “see Anglesey”. It didn’t work. Couldn’t be bothered. Not in a bad way either.
We eventually got in the van, did the now-obligatory u-turn to get Janes forgotten phone, and then set off. No idea where to, but we at least had managed to set off.
With little input from any of us, self included, we drove clockwise. Bull Bay, then Amlwych, but due to a classic mizzle and apathy combination, we carried on. Until we hit a dead end at Pen Cei. A swift u’ey and we’re back exploring, until we hit a dead end, this time at the intriguingly named ‘Consuelo Caravan Park’. Must Google that one at some point!
Then we set off again and found Moelfre Ice Cream Parlour. And one remaining space in the tiny carpark. So £3-all day later, we went for a stroll.
Gravelly beach done (Toby was still surf-sensitive), we headed along the coastal path, past the old lifeboat station to the very slick looking new RNLI one. Hint to any charities. Put a contactless card reader in the window of any properties, that are pre-programmed to take £2 increments. So easy you can’t not donate!
Sadly it’s the first time the weather cut short out plans, and after less than a handful of kilometres, as the misty drizzle rolled in we headed back to the van. Me, muttering because I’d forgotten to pack Arthur’s ludicrously sharp Zeiss binoculars and/or his ludicrously small & sharp Leica compacts with which I would have got a better look at the lovely Small Egret on the beach and the myriad of birds out on the island.
The Van! Our sanctuary! Hop in, phones on charge, Toby’s tea out of the fridge. Post-Ice Cream Parlour retreat! Charlie went ‘bubblegum’, Jane, ‘fudge’ and me, well, liquorice of course! Lovely.
After some time passed, it felt right to get an inside table at the Robbies pub opposite, which we knew to be dog-friendly, and serve food from 6pm. What we also knew, down to an earlier recon mission was that if you wanted food before 7pm, get in for at least 5:30 and be ready to place an order at 5:48pm latest.
We got in for 4:45, because it was busy outside and the rain was coming in again. Inside was quiet. Until around 5:15, after which it was a scramble for a table. Settling like crows (an outstanding lyric) the older folk began congregating around the food till at around 5:48, exactly as predicted.
I had our order written up in notepad, Table Number highlighted of course, and a checksum total just to save any haggling. Armed with experience of olden days ordering of beer from a packed pub, plus basketball, plus identifying ditherers, I muscled & elbowed my way past the grannies and got the P3 spot at around 5:51pm
Smashed it! I’d suspected P2 was a closet ditherer. One question (the obvious “chips, new potatoes or mash” conundrum) from Server 1 and they buckled. I waved my phone with a screen full of succinct answers to all questions, and I was escorted to the secret fast serve till. Result!
Apart from when my starter of Tempura King Prawns was delivered and just before table, one of the 6 fell off (“oops, sorry” said the embarrassed young girl that was serving, but with no further reference to the 1/6th of my £7.75 starter that I would no longer eat), the food & service were superb.
Toby made Friends with the people on the table next to us, and the table next to that, and some passers by and a big dog on the next nearest table, who at one point stood on his back legs and did what I can only describe as an Irish Jig. Then, stuffed & amazed, we came back to Cemaes.
We’re opposite a pub, The Stag. Next to the pub is a pub. Called the “Ye Olde Vigour”. Google it and the reviews. Quirky. I like quirky, but I can’t say I wasn’t slightly trepidatious before crossing the threshold. All I can say is I had a thoroughly enjoyable chat with the Landlady (read the reviews) & staff, finding out loads about the locale. I’ll be nipping in again before we leave, for sure.
Just goes to show, eh. Don’t always trust everything you read on the internet.