I sat on a dim stairway of the Queen’s tower in one quiet corner of Caernarvon Castle in Wales. Justine & Alun had business to attend to so I roamed off to be a tourist. Of course I can’t really explain to them that to me it was more a feeling of communion. Connection with history, lives, blood & stone. So I could just find a stairwell and site quietly with my fingertips lightly drawing energy from the castle walls. While in my mind the sounds of footfalls mixed with some forgotten Alan Parson’s produced moods.

I roamed the museum and put my fingers to the glass that covered a golden eagle that once traveled with Napoleon’s legions across Spain. I stood in the castle square and photographed a skeleton that was now traveling with a “man-on-the-street” medical program. I breathed in the sea air.

In the square of Caernarvon I found a small deli where a young woman broke from her Welsh conversation with an elderly man to make me a corned beef sandwich. I handed her my 2 pound coin, thanked her and left to sit under a statue of a local hero who was now a perch for a seagull.

One bite into my sandwich and a phone range in my pocket. Soon I was gathering all my goodies off the ground and putting my sandwich back in the bag. It was time to go.

Suddenly I was in a Tesco’s watching my heroine, Justine Curgenven rummage through the discounted fruit.

Strange days. Strange days indeed.

Click Here for my pictures from Caernarvon Castle.