Wales

Well in spite of my sister's GPS system (Charlotte)'s best efforts, we made it to Wales in one piece. Charlotte directed us to Tintern Abbey, which is nestled in between some amazingly green hills. As my father put it, it looked like a big church without a roof. It was quite an interesting site, and the rain managed to hold off until we were running toward the car (the windows were open). This seemed to happen throughout the UK - we'd manage to miss every serious rain storm by just happening to sit down to dinner at the right time, or ducking inside a museum just as big droplets were starting to hit us.
After Tintern Abbey, Charlotte turned on us. She toyed with us a bit, dipping our route into a lovely forested area where bluebells were blooming, but then we ended up on the Pit Mining Motorway. It was pretty dang ugly - lots of depressed mining towns and big holes in the sides of hills. And we were so confused that we ended up pulling over and calling the hotel (a castle) where we were staying. For the rest of the trip, I sat with the Large Scale Map of Britain on my lap and challenged every direction Charlotte gave us. Her worst moment was when she directed us into the Primate Reserve. Finally, we got to the castle and went to our room. Riley barked at the check in people, and then at a giant mirror, so we took her outside and hiked a very muddy path through the Brecon Beacons National Forest. She romped through mud puddles and ate horse pies. It was probably her happiest moment since she was loaded into the airplane cargo hold.
We took Riley to a pub (thankfully, as the designated driver, she stayed in the car and didn't drink) outside of the forest. It was a small pub and was filled with locals (including one birthday party of older, round women who drank sparkling wine and then ordered the "Mixed Grill" menu item with their mixed drinks). We had a nice meal of fish and potatoes and cake that I ordered simply because it was sprinkled with pieces of what appeared to be Mars Bars.
We returned to the hotel and watched some truly horrible British TV. I understand why my sister hasn't really been concerned about her lack of television (I guess she needs a TV license, as well as a permit, special box, and other nonsense).