Lost in Wales

"I've got a parcel to deliver to north Wales. Fancy a road trip?" Barry was not the sort of husband to combine work with family so I jumped at the chance little knowing what I was letting myself in for.

We took the motorways to Gloucester then crossed into Wales. Stopping in Abergaveny for fish and chips, we stuck to the A roads until we got close to the postcode of the delivery address.

Now we found ourselves in foreign territory. All the signs were in Welsh. "Admit it, we're lost."

"No we're not. I know where we are. We're in Bed...something."

"Why don't you ask someone for directions?"

"Why don't you?"

I wound down my window and called out to an old guy with a little dog. "Can you help us please. How do we get to here." I showed him the address on the delivery note.

He jabbered something unintelligible, presumably Welsh. Seeing the confused look on my face he beamed then grabbed a pen and wrote on the delivery note 'Llwybr Troed Cyhoeddus'.

"I think he wants us to follow these signs." The man was giggling as he walked away. That should have been a clue.

We found the sign and turned onto a country road. It was a gravel road with grass growing through it. A bit further on and the trees started closing in on us.

“Are you sure we’re on the right road?” Branches were knocking on my window.

"It's what the bloke said."

Soon the track closed in to the extent there was no way we could go any further. That is when the hiker appeared. "What are you doing trying to drive on a public footpath?"

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