That was fun! Definitely the right decision to bring the fast bike (not least because it doesn't like crap road surfaces, and Welsh standards of road maintenance - which tend towards the let-it-fall-to-bits-then-fix-it-properly approach - are far better than what I have to put up with in the Wet Midlands / Worcestershire / Warwickshire). Who knew that Wales could be so flat? The tea room at Goldcliff was delightful, in a quirky enthusiasm sort of way. Bonus points for warmth and little in the way of rain (other than the shower that put me off riding back to Cardiff).
In a break from tradition, there didn't appear to be a hen party on my train home. Instead I randomly woke up to the sight of a bloke in a pink and yellow lycra morris dancing / cowboy / gay superhero costume queuing for the loo. Once he was [not so] safely inside, his normally-dressed companion explained that it was his third stag-night and he would be allowed to get married after this one. Then the faulty toilet door randomly did its thing, and while I was safely out of sight from the horrors it revealed, I did get to witness the reactions (flustered embarrassment, giggling fit and reaching for the camera, respectively) of those who weren't so fortunate.