Soggy Welsh Cakes en Plein Air

Compact easel with 8x10in at Lake Vyrnwy, mid-Wales

The bad news came just before reaching my destination. I steered my bicycle alongside a shop and went in for some Welsh cakes. At the counter I was told that the weather was due to break anytime now and the forecast said very heavy rain. I looked at my Welsh cakes and wondered what they tasted like soggy.

Twenty minutes later I rolled up to Lake Vyrnwy, mid-Wales, sporting a fine shean of Welsh drizzle. I've been told that there is no such thing as bad weather, just the wrong clothes. My 'waterproof' was clinging to me like a polyester shower curtain and the rain started cascading off the peak of my helmet to form a frosted visor. 

Having spent a lifetime riding lightweight racing bikes, it is a novelty to be riding my utility bike with mudguards, armchair saddle and bags hanging off the racks. As I glanced at the overtaking 'roadies', miserably hunched over their handlebars with streaked backs and asses, I felt I had the upper hand for once, as I had room enough for as many Welsh cakes as I desired. 

I exploited my local knowledge, crossing the dam and pedalling up the west side of the lake where there was a fairly continuous tree canopy to protect me. I even managed to fnd a dry spot to pitch my plein air kit, though it transpired later, not for my Welsh cakes. 

For the next hour and a half I wrestled with my oil paints to the soundtrack of dripping leaves and pattering water. As the light dimmed to a grey silence, I made the last brushstroke and stood back to critique my painting over a soggy Welsh cake. I concluded that they do indeed taste just the same, but with the novel consistency of a fresh cowpat.   

My pre-Welsh cake face

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