I've been on vacation these past few weeks. I went to New York, Connecticut, England and Wales! Not bad for someone with no money.

I went to Wales because my Nanny was evacuated there during WWII with her sister while her parents stayed in London. I wanted to see where she lived. I was looking for Stone Cottage in Ruabon. The directions seemed vague, as there are no street signs or even street names or even streets in the hills of Northern Wales, but sure enough, I took a left at the farm, found two red brick houses, and there was Stone Cottage ahead of me. When Nanny lived there, they didn't even have electricity. Now the house had a satellite dish. And, presumably, they got around to putting in indoor toilets.

Ruabon also has the Wynnstay Arms, just across the street from where my great grandad was born, a pub that boasts a bartender who looks almost exactly like Adam Brody.

Wales insists on having Welsh as their official language. To this end, they put Welsh translations on all their signs, even though no one speaks Welsh except for like three 80 year old shepherds who live in the mountains somewhere. Cymru is the Welsh word for Wales, by the way.

It's good that Wales is trying to preserve its Celtic language roots, but it gets a bit silly when it comes to making up Welsh words for new technology. Like so:

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All they did was add an extra F. They're not even trying anymore. That said, it's probably pronounced "yanfairchagogogoch." I should ask Nanny; she had to take Welsh classes when she went to school there, although Grandad was quick to point out that it was only the "Easy Welsh" classes. I don't think any Welsh is easy.

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