Er, umm, er let me ponder.
Wales..
Ah, there was the night of trying to knock tent pegs into slate, amongst sheep dung whilst it was grey & raining.
That was made more memorable by Jones the Butcher running out of bacon & sausages the next morning, as Jones the delivery man was "probablly still in the local"
Then there was the bloke at a petrol station in some God-forsaken village. Me with soggy sheep-dunged map on the roof. Pointing.
"Ah, don't know boyo, never been out the valley.
Hopeless tourist guide !
We gave up, turned around, and ended up at Glastonbury in the hippy truck thing.
So I have yet to find a phrase such as "Wales - lovely place"
No wonder Dylan was a tad depressed at times.
Bob the Englishman.