Wild Wales I

The drive up, the Black Country and an unlikely family history (not mine).

View of Tern Hall from the front, set in parkland with deer and carriage | © National Trust Images/John Hammond

We’re late setting off because I want a run, then a shower, then I have to explain to my mum which bits of the garden she can fuck with and which bits she can’t (most of them).

Then I give her Helen’s number in case of emergencies. If there’s anyone in the village I trust to handle most emergencies, up to and including armed intruders, an outbreak of plague or a zombie apocalypse, it’s Helen.

Finally we’re off but Joel needs coffee. He functions on several a day and a shortage of milk this morning means he needs one now, urgently.

An hour’s delay later, an aborted attempt to get to Services mired in M40 Easter traffic, then a detour to a strip mall in Banbury — a town in which the only thing of note is a rhyme about riding a cock-horse — and Joel has coffee.

Ride a cock-horse to Banbury Cross…

We are off, swinging up the motorway towards Wales via the Black Country.

The Black Cou…