History now tells us that we don't get very far during years ending in '8' – ten years ago, we struggled through the wintry weather, eventually managing to cover off the 30-odd miles as the crow flies from Edinburgh to Arbroath, before calling it for the year.
In view of various other issues and developments going on for both Steve and myself this year though, I consider that we were fairly lucky (and determined) to have managed even this outing.
The signs weren't encouraging from the outset, it must be said – we were unable to book our trains thanks to Network Rail's decision to electrify (and therefore close) the Severn Tunnel on precisely the wrong week, and so instead I drove all the way out to Carmarthen, picking Steve up en route. It's a long way to Carmarthen, and even in June it was dark by the time we arrived, with just enough time to relax and catch up over a couple of Peronis in the pub next door to our lodgings – the same lodgings that we had booked for four nights later, by which time we would, we hoped, have completed our semi-circular description of the Pembrokeshire coast, and have made it back to Carmathen under pedal power.
And with it being football World Cup season once again, we took the precaution of confirming that said pub would be showing the next England game in four days' time – never a given when you're in one of the other home nations – but the barman confirmed in a resigned manner that yes, they indeed would be. At least we knew we had good odds on getting a table.
So there was our target. Now all we had to do was get the train out to Fishguard the following morning, and do some cycling.