Harry has never seen a castle. Our daughter's Antipodean boyfriend has no preconceptions whatsoever about what to expect for his first visit to the UK. He does, however, have a firm idea of what he wants to see and experience: history, hundreds of years of it.
At the top of his list are castles, followed by quaint villages of twisting streets lined with ancient churches and wizened cottages. So, rather like the fairy godmother from the picture books these images evoke, I'm going to grant Harry his wishes – and we're off to Wales.
Why Wales? Because it has more castles per square mile than any other country in Europe. Oh, and it has the dramatic mountains, picturesque towns and villages and spectacular coast that I am certain will also impress.
The last time Harry travelled with us was down under in a rather basic campervan between Cairns and the Daintree National Park, Queensland. Harry went everywhere bare chested and barefoot. I warn him that he's probably going have to wrap up warmly for Wales.
Harry's experienced plenty of tropical downpours, but not the sort of cold, clinging, drizzle that penetrates your bones – Welsh rain. Surprisingly, Harry, a New South Welshman, comes right in the middle of an uncharacteristic heatwave, so his usual attire of shorts are spot
