We woke to gale and lashing rain and we umm'd a bit and ah'd a bit and wondered if we should we risk it.
I tried to get hold of the lady we had an appointment to view with on Sunday afternoon to cancel, but she had an unlisted number. In the end we decided that we'd set out and if it was too bad, we'd turn back.
We were buffeted over the bridge in Swansea, caught sideways by gusts as we crossed rivers and roads where there was no protection, the motorway edges were littered with a swathe of green where new leaves had been torn from the trees, but finally we were half way with only the Severn Bridge ahead of us. (Does it remind of "The Bridge"?)
We stopped twice for brief breaks, clutching hot coffee and wondering if it was worth it, but we arrived at the Shaw Country Hotel (whose lovely owners and staff are now part of our ongoing story) safe and well and with time to spare.
House number one, the one the dh thought was going to be perfect, should have been perfect, sadly wasn't.
Negotiations were entered into, a deal was struck, and with good luck and a following wind we will not be homeless at the end of the month.