Poaching pears?

Saturday saw Nuora, GrandSon4 and me in Margam Park. A huge place, much bigger than I remembered. I used to take the children there on the last day of the summer holidays. For some reason it became a bit of a tradition - although the children won't remember it. The deer were there and they'd just opened Fairyland but there's much more now.

My favourite bit was the Wood Vibrations Trail. No photos because I was too busy enjoying myself making music on hollowed out tree stumps. A number of years ago I took drumming classes for a while. I loved it but gave it up. It wasn't that I have no sense of rhythm; it was more that my rhythm was slightly only out of sync with everyone else's. 

Our walk began with this magnificent dragon carved out of a fallen tree. The head in its mouth is a little disturbing but the artistry is wonderful.

They have a farm trail now with a number of rare and local breeds such as Glamorgan cattle. Thought to have disappeared some were found and now there is a successful herd at Margam.

They are distinctive with their lovely chestnut coat with a white strip over the rump and under the belly.

There's a huge adventure playground for older children as well as acres of woods to walk and explore. A small train running from castle to car park added to Grandson4's enjoyment.

An added bonus was the booty of windfall pears I collected. There were loads on the ground and the deer weren't eating them so I thought, 'Why not?' I'm sure I didn't look at all guilty or suspicious as I furtively glanced around before throwing pears into the bottom of the buggy.

 

They don't look very appetising because I left them to cool in the oven and they got a bit wrinkly but trust me: pears baked with butter and brown sugar are delicious.