Back in the Spring, my brother and I took Nan for a ride in Nan the Van. Given that Nan was born in North Wales, it seemed appropriate that we head for the hills to find a final resting place. With my erstwhile badminton partner and general good mate Glyn reading the map and taking the pictures, we headed west on the M62.
There's Nan on the dashboard, centre stage below the rear view mirror. We'd decided to scatter Nan's ashes on the top of mount Tryfan. Mountains are good, way above the tree line you see, and for some strange reason Nan was never fond of trees. I remember years ago driving down Ebw Vale on a day out with Nan, remarking on how beautiful the scenery was. "Yes Joshua", she said, "but there's too many bloody trees!". That's cool Nan, we can do no trees!
A splendid climb through knee deep snow, a struggle to the top of 'Eve' (don't look down) and a sudden change in wind direction!