Twenty by Twenty

You know those towns that you pick out of nowhere, maybe you've seen the name on a map, maybe you've done a quick google image search and it looks alright?

That was Llanrwst, a little grey and a little dull. I knew nothing else about Wales and wondered if I'd brought my friends on a desperate road trip to a place half boarded up. I had to go though; I had to see my twentieth country before my twentieth birthday. Luckily places like that often have a bit of magic in them, especially when the mother toungue is made up of an impossible paradox of vowels and letters. 

With no set plan in mind, Vivian and Charly and me headed to the dusty charity shop. I browsed with disinterest and was ready to leave when a glamorous light caramel fur coat caught Viv's eye. For less than ten pounds, and with a penchant for being as extra as possible, she had to buy it.

The group that day happened to be a bunch of photographers - Robert, Charly, Ian and me along with my flatmate and friend Vivian. Of course, as soon as Viv stepped out in that coat, we all swarmed her. The public toilet area suddenly became a gritty backdrop and an ivy-robed wall seemed the perfect spot to pose. I took the piss out of her a bit, seeing as though it was my birthday after all and she didn't have hardly any experience modelling. We continued to wander, peering into closed stores and pausing every once in a while to take a picture. Rounding a corner on our way back to the car, an antique shop down the street was our last stop.

An older woman, the owner, sat in the back working on a puzzle while we gathered our first impressions (read: expensive). But the shop held enough oddities to capture our curiosity and I decided to check out the upstairs, where I was met with a stuffed room and a cupboard.

Now, as everybody knows, cupboards are absolutely meant to be opened. So naturally I opened it to find - another fur coat. White with silver markings, perfect condition, no price tag. 

As everybody also knows, if it hasn't got a price tag, you can't afford it. But my philosophy has always been that it never hurts to ask. Yet I still couldn't quite believe it when the lady shrugged and said I could have it for five pounds. I began to protest when Char interrupted and told me to stop talking my way out of it.

I'm not one to travel in style, preferring instead to toss on leggings with converse and be comfortable. That day, though, was the most fabulous tour I've ever taken - gliding around the streets of Llanwrst and Conwy in matching fur coats with a few of my closest friends, posing and laughing and fully enjoying the absolute banter of it all.