Llangollen

Jam and cream scones. Yum yum!

Well, I suppose it’s unfair to describe how delicious these were; how scrumptious they tasted, the perfect combination of jam, cream and butter. The way the butter melted into the scone and with every bite, how we could not help but enjoy the wonderfully crafted delight.

How cute were our own individual little jars of either Tiptree’s raspberry or blackcurrant jam; blackcurrant being my favourite. And then there was the cream, well, where to start with describing this dairy product. I think it was Cornish cream, or maybe not, but whatever it was, delicious is the word. The difference between this scone and others, was that it was home-made, and gosh, we could tell the difference. It tasted like it was made with the special ingredient of care, care for how much sugar and flower was added to the mixing bowl, not that I’m a baker or anything, but it was evident that these scones were not shop bought!

Anyway, you’ll be wondering where these magnificent scones cropped up during the summer holiday for me ... Llangollen, a small town in North-East Wales, beautiful it has to be said. It’s situated on the River Dee, a 70-mile long river in the UK. I’d heard of the River Dee the previous summer when my Mum and I went up to visit my brother in Aberdeen, and we went cycling along the river, from Ballater, yet another gorgeous place to visit.

Let’s get back to the scones ... let’s just say they were a well deserved treat after our walk alongside the River Dee in Llangollen. My Mum, Grandma, Grandad and me planned our day out and left home earlyish in the morning to get a long full day in.

Our first stop on the way to our destination, Ponderosa, the Horseshoe Pass, where the scenery was wonderful. I shouldn’t really mention the lovely sausage sandwich we enjoyed with brown sauce, a necessity to make it tasty! The journey involved driving up and down hills, as green as green can be. It was funny how we were discussing the idea of living somewhere like that, as we noticed little cottages on our way, and then came to the conclusion that if we were to win the lottery, I mean a large amount, we could possibly think about it. But if not, we wouldn’t buy one, as it seemed far away from anywhere, in the middle of nowhere perhaps, and the idea of being snowed in, as the winters can be harsh as we all know in the UK, so feasibility and health care could be an issue.

So, once we’d parked up after the long drive to our destination, well after we were stuck behind a tractor, haha, we stretched our legs and set off on our walk along the gorgeous River Dee. Passing some cottages and houses along the way, as well as hikers and day-trippers, some of who were pleasant and we exchanged good mornings with, we took photos of the scenery on offer. My Mum and Grandad brought their new cameras with them, both of which produced fantastically great quality photos. It’s amazing how cameras, for example, have developed and can now give us pictures of such clear quality, as though we are there.

Skipping along, we came across Hercules and, what was the other one’s name ... oh yes, Stan it was. These were the horses operating the horse-drawn barges, what a wonderful novelty I thought, and so, as they approached us, my Mum snapped some great photos. Coming towards us, working hard pulling his barge full of day-trippers.

Oh, I forgot to fill you in on the weather. Well, it turned out to be a gorgeously hot day, no rain in sight, and yes, the weather forecast had said rain and as usual, it was wrong ... Haha!

The horses, oh yes. It wasn’t too far past the horses that we arrived at the jam and cream scones. A lovely cafe serving many dishes and desserts, all of them looked as tasty as each other. We settled on the scones, as I’ve described, but what I haven’t told you yet is about what happened when we were in the midst of enjoying them. Oh my word, if you had seen the size of it, wow wee. A horse-fly was crawling up the wall beside my Grandma and me, and much to our surprise, my Grandma, being brave and not knowing what it was, got a few tissues and grabbed it! My Mum and Grandad had spotted it, but knowing that I’d jump or scream, which I sure enough did do, didn’t say anything. Only when it was squashed in the tissues and my Grandad stood on it, my Mum said it was a horse-fly, and mentioned that it was a dangerous insect. My Grandad said the sting could have been deadly, oh no I thought! Then planted his foot upon it. 14 stone on top of it, which of course, is my grandad. Don’t worry, you’re safe now, it6’as got 14 stone on it now. Thank goodness it was squashed now and not flying around us and near our scones!

And on that bombshell, as Clarkson says, that is the story of our scones, delicious as the home-made treats were.