I have just returned from the second of two contrasting but delightful trips to Wales. Admittedly I never ventured far enough to loose sight of our coast but I did pay the bridge toll so that should surely counts towards a stamp in the passport?
On the first occasion I checked into a world class golfing hotel, the Celtic Manor. My knowledge of golf is limited to what I've seen whilst running or riding around the local common land course on Whitchurch Down or visiting my Granny whilst she watched it on the television. My connection to the Celtic Manor might have seemed rather tenuous however I soon discovered they offer far more than just world class golf courses as I found myself enjoying a relaxing massage less than an hour after checking in. That said, I couldn't spend a weekend at the venue that so proudly hosted the Ryder Cup in 2010 and not have a taster session. After one hour of tuition on the driving range I was making a connection with the little white ball and already starting to experience the satisfaction of a smooth successful swing.
My second trip across the Severn was missing the same level of luxury however it made up for that with adrenaline. I, like hundreds of other young women, headed to the stereotypical destination of Cardiff for a hen party. Thankfully, unlike the opposite sex, girls tend to arrange things they hope the hen will enjoy and this one just so happened to be the adventurous type. We were quite literally in for a blast as we headed out into the choppy, chocolate coloured waters of Cardiff Bay for a high speed spin around in a RIB (Rigid Inflatable Boat). Alas I had prior commitments so missed the night on the town; that would certainly have been a whole different level of adventure.
