Two years ago I spent a dreamy month in Aberystwyth trying to get my tongue around the "ll"s and "ch"s of Welsh and master at least some of the basics.
Last month I was yn y dafarn with an old friend who asked "how's the Welsh going?". I made feeble excuses about the lack of opportunity to practice and that my Welsh had started to rust. My dear friend, ever direct and practical, said "My friend R - who you've met- is from Wales and she's fluent. I'm sure she'd be happy to chat with you. Shall I put you in touch". I nodded and poured another glass of wine, thinking nothing might come of it.
Up to now I've been too shy to "have a go" in shops when I've been over the border to the Wlad Hyfryd, but this morning saw me chatting away, with wobbly grammar, omitted and sometimes completely new mutations, and often with a confused expression on my face. We both reverted to English in parts, but much more than 50% of the hour and a half of our bore coffi cymraeg was conducted through the medium of Welsh.
Mwy coffi, rhywun?