Layers of disuse

Some of our garden seats being on, literally, their last legs, I searched for local makers re-using old pallets and found two, one to the south and one to the north of us.
So we went to have a look at the one in Cardigan where the workshop is in the light industrial complex where the railway station and yards once were. (The line has long gone - but there are occasional rumours of possible resurrection in some form...)

Anyway the garden furniture business is a one-man enterprise utilising old industrial timber, and the finished products are, if not elegant, sturdy, as befits the location we have for them. What's not to like? We ordered a table and two benches (not the seat which is simply to heavy to manoeuvre up our steps.)

Behind the workshops I found a collection of adorable items including an old tin shed that was most likely once  a station store or workplace, with young sycamores growing out of it, and a view across the tidal river to the town's old church.

This must have made such a charming destination to arrive at after a slow rail journey through the peaceful countryside. 
Folk with long memories still grieve the loss of the Cardi Bach train line.

Shed and furniture in extra