We go home via Devon.
Devon. Yes, I know it's not on the way from South West Wales but nevertheless we go back via Devon. It takes us 12 hours with a short stop at a Gallery on the edge of Dartmoor and another thirty minute visit to an artist who lives on the edge of a birch forest in Somerset.
'You realise that he's going to think we're a lesbian couple.' I say when I trail into the artist's studio after her. 'What's worse is that you're the one wearing the skirt and the heels and I'm the one with my hair scraped back wearing old torn jeans and trainers. I don't want to be the butch one. If I'm going to be a fake lesbian I'm at least going to be the one wearing lipstick.'
'So put on some lipstick,' she says.
'It's lost, remember?'
'Yes, along with my handbag and ta...' she adds frostily.
'Okay, okay, never mind...so I'm the butch one.'
