Sunday 28 July 2013

Wales, wales bloody great fish that swim in the sea.

(This is the slightly edited content of a note I sent to a friend)

You've got me thinking. I've seen quite a bit of Wales over the years. Mostly "in-transit"! It's natural to divide it up into bits: North, Mid, South and West, but actually when you're there, some of the "bits" merge into one-another, or the bit actually seems better divided into sub-bits etc.

Over the years my requirements and tastes have changed a bit. Started out I was only interested in "countryside". That turned into "countryside and beer" which all became romanticised a bit and then changed with the arrival of a family and now I think we're reaching the stage when the family want to be somewhere else (but might be a bit afraid of doing it themselves). Overall, I think what sticks with me is impressions. I'm interested in history. I like pubs.  I prefer them to have good beer, but otherwise I prefer them to have interesting architecture and natives who will talk to you, but not monopolise the conversation.

Most of this is years and years ago, so, things may have changed. Starting from the North and sticking with "bits wot I've visited":

Anglesey and Holyhead (or Holy Island). A place I've only really passed through. I think there is more to see here than might first appear. One of the things which struck me about Holyhead was the "British Imperial Provincial Architecture". That's my own term. It looks familiar, and you can see it all over the world: in Ireland and even (from pictures) in India.

The view from the Bridge over the Menai straits is really worthwhile. And then there's the history of the road, and the railway and the ferry route to Dublin and...

Leaving Bangor you have two choices: the A5 heading down eventually to the Midlands or the A55 across towards Manchester. One day I may do the A5 slowly. On the other hand, the A55 is one of the roads I know only too well. Lytham St Annes to North Cork and back in a weekend (sort-of). Interesting road. Varies from along, under or through cliffs, to over "coastal plain".

We stayed in a cottage in Abergwyngregyn one summer. Even the locals call it "Aber". The cottage was nice, but it's not a terribly interesting place, apart from a nice waterfall. The owner of the Aber Falls Hotel seemed to have fallen out with the locals and be having trouble with the business. On the other hand, the owner of the of the furniture factory/store next door was friendly, had a nice dog (called "Gellert") and two Trabants in
the front yard. He said he had driven one of them back from Berlin! You can see why I got on with him.

Further south on the coast is Pwllheli. That was our first summer holiday after the girls were born, and my only experience of Butlin's. Actually I rather liked it, but you have to be prepared to "take your brain out and leave it somewhere safe". It's actually rather nice to just swan about. We took the half-board option, complete with table service! When you have two tiny ones in tow that is really pretty pleasant. Everyone should do Butlins (Pwllheli is now a "Haven") at least once to decide whether you like it or not!

Inland, of course there is Snowdonia. It's a while since I climbed to the top on foot, but I have taken the girls up there on the train. We stopped short of the summit because the café was being refurbished. In any case it was one of those Welsh days when the only real view we would have had would have been of white!

Back to the coast. You know I like Portmerion. My first visit there was when an acquaintance persuaded me to visit the Ffestiniog railway. He was a member of the society and I think he might have been trying to recruit me as a mate to go there with. Anyway, we were fortunate enough for there to be an Open-day at the Boston Lodge works. This was not long after I'd parted company with the boiler industry, so I had a great time. My mate was surprised (horrified?) when I got talking to one of the blokes there and finished up doing a little welding. I couldn't do it now, and even then I wouldn't trust my welding!

I think Ffestiniog own (?) the causeway which cuts off the Cob. I don't know if they still do this, but at that time, as a money-raiser they used to charge a small toll when to road users when they thought it was worth their while! Legalised, but pleasant, highway robbery! As for Portmerion, it's a strange place. Worth looking up the details. I've stayed there twice. It seems both larger and smaller than you imagine. Clough Williams-Ellis (I hope I've got that right) was an architect and he in Portmerion he messed around with scale and
perspective. Many of the buildings are smaller than you think they are. If you are lucky

enough to get inside some of the buildings you will find that windows can seem to be in the wrong places, because you are on the inside of a 3/4 scale model. Odd! On the other hand the place itself is set in huge grounds which extend down to the estuary. One morning when Noreen and I were staying there, we set off before the crowds were let in and kept walking away towards the end of the penisula. Rhodedenrons and semi-cultivated, semi-wild gardens all the way, and we didn't see a soul until we were on our way back probably an hour or more later.

As for the Ffestiniog, I agree. A wonderful experience. The girls loved it when they were going through the "Thomas the Tank Engine" phase. I remember one trip when I went up to Blaenau. It was very wet. While wandering round the town I looked in an estate agents window and was shocked at the low price of some of the cottages in town. I'm still glad I resisted the temptation to buy!

At one time I had an idea that it would be fun to do the whole trip to Minford by train and then get a taxi to Portmerion Hotel. It would be ridiculously expensive and probably be a disappointment in the end. To understand what I have in mind you have to imagine scenes culled from Sherlock Holmes, the Railway Children and Brief Encounter. All black and white and steam and fog. Ideally the taxi should really be a hansom cab and there should be wolves howling in the background.

Much further south and inland, is Cilgeran. It's complete with its own castle and sits above the River Teifi. We rented a pleasant cottage with flagged floors downstairs, a grapevine in the greenhouse and a path from the back gate to the castle. There are easy walks along the river down towards Cardigan. There are several good pubs in the town. I particularly recommend The Pendre Inn. The natives were friendly and explained a few interesting local features, like how the tide was used to get stone from the quarries down to the port and explaining the remains of a large-scale fish trap.

Anyway, that was fun. I enjoyed writing that lot! There could be more, but I've run out of steam for now.