So far, Spring has been a disappointment, and it hasn't been easy to get into holiday mood. No time to dither, though, as in only four weeks time we will be making our way to Wales again.
Over the years, I must have made well over a thousand photographs, which I've been browsing through to get me in the right frame of mind, and I thought I'd show you some of my favourites places in the process.
Why not start with this one of me, masquerading as a Welsh lady in traditional costume, at Devil's Bridge in Ceredigion?
For those of you who have been watching Hinterland, Devil's Bridge is where the body of Helen Jenkins was found in the very first episode.
We have been going to the same area, always staying at the same delightful little cottage-for-two, since 2011.
We have twice tried to break the habit and go somewhere else, but here we are, on the brink of our seventh visit.
Our first visit was in May 2011, and the minute we stepped over the cottage's threshold, we felt right at home. With its thick walls, the old cottage keeps out the day to day sounds of the outside world, while keeping it warm and cosy on a cool day, yet deliciously cool on a hot one.
Waking up under the eaves, the plaintive calling of the gulls drifting up the estuary is the first sound you hear, and from the bedroom's skylight window the ever-changing view of the estuary, over the roofs of the cottages which tumble down the hill, always invites you to stand and stare. And then stare some more!
The village, St. Dogmaels, is a delight too, its houses climbing the hillside above the meandering River Teifi making its way to the sea. and boasting the ruins of a 12th century abbey.
We are in Pembrokeshire, if only just, with the neighbouring county, Ceredigion, almost literally on our doorstep, on the other side of the estuary (the meadows and fields we can see from our windows).
Nearby is the large expanse of Poppit Sands, perfect for blowing away the cobwebs on the first day, when we're not inclined to venture too far, or for a short evening walk, watching the sun disappear behind the horizon and lengthen the shadows.
One of our favourite places is Mwnt, just over the border with Ceredigion, waiting at the end of a narrow country lane. Down a steep flight of steps is the beach, overlooked by the green hump of Foel y Mwnt, while at the other end there's a lonely whitewashed little church.
It was at the end of a blustery June afternoon, and ours was the only car left in the grassy car park.
Vying with Mwnt for my favourite nearby beauty spot is Ceibwr Bay, along winding up-and-down lanes from St. Dogmaels. Surrounded by tall, spectacularly folded cliff formations, it feels wild and remote. Another place to stand (or rather, as I did here: sit) and stare, wondering at the forces of nature which must have been at work to create a place of such drama.
About a mile along the coast path is the Witches' Cauldron, a collapsed cave where in rough weather the sea comes surging into, creating a boiling mass of water and spray.
From here, the nearest town of any significance is the small seaside resort of Newport. About two years ago, I made this nostalgic collage of photographs taken in and around the town, which our cottage's rental office, which is based in the town, liked so much that they posted it on their Facebook page.
We are skipping along in a south-westerly direction, rounding a couple of headlands, until we arrive at Aberreidy, famous for its Blue Lagoon, a small slate quarry flooded by the sea. It is the slate which makes the water appear such an unfathomable shade of sapphire blue.
Onwards to Whitesands Bay near St. David's Head. The sky was looking ominously grey on our first visit, giving the wet sand an unearthly colour. St. David's Head itself can be seen beckoning in the distance.
Nearing Whitesands, however, we could see mist drifting in from the sea. As it wasn't looking too bad, we decided to proceed with our planned walk up to St. David's Head, but visibility became worse the higher we got.
We were supposed to see Coetan Arthur, a 4000-year-old Neolithic burial chamber, silhouetted against the sky, but we didn't, and in the end roamed from one rocky outcrop to another, getting slightly panicky until a gap appeared through the cloud, through which we could see the path we had come up on.
A shortcut down a bracken covered slope put an end to our attempted walk. We have plans for a third attempt next month!
Inland to nearby St. Davids. Although only the size of an average village, St. Davids is in fact Wales' smallest city, a status it has been granted because of its cathedral, which they have cleverly hidden in a little valley of its own, so that it cannot be spotted from the sea.
Further south, there is a choice of castle ruins to visit.
Carew castle (top) is standing on a ridge at the head of a tidal inlet of the Carew river.
Pembroke Castle (bottom), idyllically set on the banks of the river estuary, is a mighty fortress steeped in British history. Exploring the castle, you will meet figures of its former inhabitants, telling you their story, either in English or in Welsh.
We often pushed the Welsh button, especially when there were other people around, so that they would think we were Welsh and actually understood what was being said.
Here I am in conversation with a brave Welsh archer: Bore da! Sut dach chi?
I'm definitely beginning to get into the mood for more Welsh adventures by now ...
However, the weather seems to be in a Welsh mood too, as it's started raining.
Oh, well, here's what I think of that ...