Yesterday I went to Hay-on-Wye with my friend Rhys. For those of you who don’t know what this place is, it’s my most favourite place on earth... well at least in this country. It’s a quaint old town with more book stores than you can imagine. It’s miraculous. I am a great reader, I have grown up among books and I count being able to devour a book in a day one or my talents. Hay for me is like my drug; just being around all those books makes me thrilled. I one day hope to own a house there, not just because of the book stores it’s also so lovely and old fashioned, a perfect county village. Also the sweet shop will see me nicely into obesity.
My friend Rhys is also a great lover of books, and we have now made it a tradition to go there together at least once a year, normally we I have to say we go for the annual Hay-On-Wye book festival. However this year circumstances meant we couldn’t make it. Nevertheless we decided to go up to the village for the day any way. I am glad we did, spending time with Rhys is a better cure than eating a load of chocolate if you’re feeling a bit depressed.
On our day out however something really bizarre happened. We found ourselves not looking for the next book store, but for the next antique store! Our friendship has changed, we are no longer book friends we are ANTIQUE friends! Believe me no one was more surprised than us. We found ourselves going through the shops decorating our fantasy homes in all these wonderful things we were seeing. And our friendship grew; we were not just united in our love or books today but also in our love of expensive antiques!
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| Will to my Grace |
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| We'll get the specs and everything |
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| Hay-OnWye |
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