Dungroamin 2022
The holiday that smells but has no taste
Saturday 11th June
Today it was decided that we would visit the Steam Museum in Swindon.This involved negotiating the infamous "Magic Roundabout" in Swindon, which has its own Wikipedia page. It comprises five mini roundabouts and Jerry's Satnav was totally bemused by it. We ended up turning left at each of the roundabouts, doing a 'U' turn and then going back for another go. After doing this for about three times, we decided we were on the right road.
All present and correct for breakfast. Not sure why, but our table didn't seem to be near anybody else.
A view of part of the restaurant with plenty of room the manoeuvring mobility scooters, zimmer frames, etc.
The signpost for the infamous Magic Roundabout.
Brian demonstrates the acceleration of his latest mode of transport.
The museum at Swindon is based on the site of a previous major rail engineering works which used to provde all the skills necessary to manufacture and maintain engines and rolling stock for the railways. There were plenty of items of historic interest on display.
We visited the upstairs cafe for coffee where they had a system of vibrating pads to let you know when your order was ready. This did not seem to improve the efficiency of the operation, particularly as staff had been taken out to cater for an episode of Dickinson's Real Deal taking place in one of the rooms. It all happens in Swindon these days.
Having done our research, we located to the local Weatherspoons for lunch which was within walking (and scooter) distance.
A clever reconstruction of a view of the original works - part photograph, part model.
The world's fastest train, apparently - The Cheltenham Flyer.
The dummies on the platform are very realistic.
Pete, Chris and Brian decide to sit outside at the Weatherspoons. The rest of us go for the shade inside.
An early highlight of the evening was when Kathy bought us all a round of drinks. Unintentionally, it turned out, as her's was the only room number they had taken.
Dinner started without Geraint, who was late again and who was rescued, in terms of food, not for the first time by our Romanian waiter Andrei.
The official entertainment for the evening was the "Hyjacked Hollies" who we caught most of whilst sitting in the bar.
Geraint is invigorated by the stimulating conversation. Or it might have been the ribbing he was getting from the ladies to his right.