When Two Became One

Dracula Untold
Saturday 11th October 2014


We got up this morning at the crack of dawn, literally as the first rays of the sun came over Moel-y-Ci hill at the end of our drive.  Our ridiculously early start this morning was due to the newest addition to our family, Sylvester the Dog!

He's a cross between  a Springer Spaniel and a Border Collie. Breeders tried to invent a catchy name but the "Sprollie" never caught the public's imagination like the Cockapoo or Westiepoo. It's a blend we've had before. He was called Rocky because he was born of the 4th of July, and why Sylvester is named after Stallone.  That was almost thirty years ago! Back then we used to call them a mongrel and they were always "free to good homes".

Anyway, we set off early, driving through the beautiful misty Ogwen valley,  so we could drop him off with a family in Corwen who were being paid to look after him whilst we were away. Our attitude to dog kennels over the years has changed and now prefer the home dog sitting service. We're getting soft in our old age.

Once we dropped him off we continued along the historical A5 route, the road built to connect London with Holyhead (Dublin). When we crossed the M6 we decided to take the motorway the rest of the way. We reached Gatwick about 2pm, which gave us plenty of time to park up, check-in to the Hilton, grab a swift drink in the South Terminal before catching a taxi to Crawley. 

We had pre-booked tickets to watch a film at the IMAX screen in Cineworld. The film was "Dracula Untold" a perfect start to our trip to Transylvania. It had to be done!

Starring in the lead role was Welshman Luke Evans. The film was better than I anticipated although if we were hoping to get a glimpse Transylvania we were mistaken. The heavy use of special effects meant it was more of a Lord of the Rings style fantasy landscape.

Back in a taxi we returned the short distance to Gatwick South Terminal where we sought out the pub, called The Beehive after the nickname given to the original terminal built here in 1936.  We then moved on to Giraffe, a restaurant named after an Africal mamal with no connection whatsoever to Gatwick but at least they had a decent menu.

I enjoyed my veg burrito whilst Julie steered away from her the medium-rare steak after all the blood sucking she witnessed earlier and was instead loving her "kiev schnitzel".

By 10pm we were back in our room ready for our some shut eye before our early morning flight tomorrow.

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