shewhomust | Welcome to Portmeirion

To celebrate my significant birthday, we spent the weekend in Bwthyn Deudraeth, a cottage on the Portmeirion estate: not actually in the village (or should that be The Village?) but just outside, and a few steps away from Castell Deudraeth, a Victorian 'castle' which is now Portmeirion's other hotel. My birthday being the Friday, it was the day we were in transit, so we didn't actually visit the village until the day after - but that will be another post, once I have sorted out some photographs.

Just one picture, for now. I had completely forgotten about Portmeirion pottery, until I saw the fruit bowl in our dining room: but then I couldn't resist unloading all the fruit and photographing it:

We did manage to celebrate on the day with a birthday dinner at the Brasserie at Castell Deudraeth: but don't be fooled by the name, this was a very grand brasserie. We were ushered to what at first appeared to be a delightful table, with windows looking onto the garden on two sides - but it was right next to the piano, and then the pianist arrived. It's not that he was bad: I suspect that he was very good at his job. He certainly had stamina, starting at 7.30 and still going strong when we left, and the piano is not a quiet instrument. I was amused by the presence on the wine list of a range of 'Portmeirion' wines (and even more amused when I saw them in the shop: chardonnay, Rhône, picpoul de pinet, each label adorned with a village landmark...). I might have chosen the sauvignon blanc, to accompany a vegetable risotto in which asparagus had lead billing, but I ordered a Sicilian grillo and was well pleased with my choice, not only because the dominant note of the risotto was pea. Its mild smokiness was also a good match for the cheeseboard (though I also had a glass of muscat de saint-jean, just to be on the safe side).

Back at our cottage, we didn't have room for birthday cake, but we did play with the television set: no internet and therefore no catch-up, but it did have a channel which showed nothing but The Prisoner. This was not only thematically perfect but also convenient, as GirlBear had never seen the show; unfortunately, the episode then screening happened to be the final one, not an ideal introduction. Another evening we saw the second half of a more typical story, after which she declared that she had now sampled quite enough, and didn't need to see any more. (Further research reveals that the entire series is available on itvX, and yes, I may well revisit it.)

On Saturday and Sunday we explored Portmeirion, and there will be more about that later. But on Saturday we also went out in search of provisions, and it's a sign that we were in holiday mode that we decided that it was worth going as far as Anglesey to shop at Waitrose: about 20 miles, 40 minutes, a lovely scenic drive around the fringes of Snowdonia. As a bonus, this took us across the Menai Bridge. Leaving, GirlBer fell into conversation with the cashier, and told her we were staying in Portmeirion: I got married at Portmeirion, she said. Was it closed? Oh, no, there were lots of people there. And when my father led me down the steps, they all applauded. A beat, then: I'm divorced now.

I can't follow that.