THE LONG AND WINDING ROAD THAT LEADS TO....
Wales! Well, it is winding but It's not that long - there are no long roads in the UK! We've got 2 days to cruise around and we've chosen to go to the
north coast and into
Snowdonia, in search of the magical spirit that inspired
Robert Plant to write those great
Led Zeppelin epics.
As we drive into the
land of the dragon (Useless Info Dept: did you know that the
patron saint of Wales - St. David - was actually
Irish, and that the
patron saint of Ireland - St. Patrick - was, you guessed it,
Welsh!)
, there are two things that become immediately apparent - there are
speed cameras EVERYWHERE (not that Concord ever travels over the legal limit),
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| Speed camera with unrestricted speed sign coming up! |
and the Welsh clearly have a
problem with spelling and the use of vowels!
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| No problems for able bodied people to get run over! |
We picked up a few words of Welsh, our favourite being 'allan' - we kept having images of the film clip of the meerkat who shouts "Allan, Allan"!
It's almost surreal to be in the British Isles, cross an imaginary border line and immediately be confronted by signs in a completely different language, one that is not even possible to attempt phonetically. It becomes positively
Pythonesque when you realise that the locals actually speak their native tongue - I swear I was expecting to see
John Cleese or
Michael Palin appear from nowhere!
Anyway, if you'e into
castles then
Wales is the motherlode - this tiny country has over
400 of them, a significant number of them being
UNESCO World Heritage Sites. The north coast is particularly significant as this is where
King Edward I built a whole
chain of fortresses in the
13th century; these
medieval citadels are, of course, now preserved ruins.
Conwy Castle strategically towers over the Conwy River and the outlet to the sea, and it's picture postcard beautiful.
Across the river spans the
Conwy Suspension Bridge, one of the first of its kind in the world when constructed in
1826 by the
Scottish engineer Thomas Telford (aka the
Collosus Of Roads), and was the only way across the river and to connect with the ferry to Ireland. It remains intact today, although only for pedestrian traffic.
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| Conwy Suspension Bridge 1826 |
We pass through
Bangor which appeared mundane (a pity, I was so looking forward to going there) and so we soldiered on to the
Menai Strait, the stretch of water that separates the island of
Anglesey from the mainland. Here we look upon arguably Telford's
greatest achievement, the mighty
Menai Suspension Bridge (WHS), also constructed in
1826.
Spanning 176 metres and
30 metres above the water it was the
longest suspension bridge in the world, and was the first fixed crossing of the strait. The wooden surface of the bridge has been replaced by steel, but it's still a thrill to drive over it, a genuine engineering wonder. There is a
second bridge over the straits, the
Brittania Bridge which was originally built in
1850, but severely damaged by
fire in 1970 and subsequently rebuilt.
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| Menai Strait |
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| Menai Suspension Bridge 1826 |
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| Brittania Bridge |
We were being lashed by rain as we entered the picturesque village of
Beaumaris and to the ruins of the
moated Beaumaris Castle (WHS) - paranoid or not, Edward I knew how to build a castle!! We don't go in as it's
10 quid per person and we figure that ruins are just as easily seen from the outside as within (we adopt this approach throughout the trip). From Beaimaris we wind our way to one of Anglesey's biggest attractions, all because of its name.
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| Low tide at Beaumaris |
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| Across the Menai Strait towards Snowdonia |
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| Beaumaris Castle |
We are no exception to other travellers, and simply scratch our heads when entering the village of
Llanfairpwllgwyngyll, the abridged version of
Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch (the
2nd longest name in the world and, unsurprisingly, the longest in Europe). How do you
pronounce it? It's easy really...
llan-vire-pooll-guin-gill-go-ger-u-queern-drob-ooll-llandus-ilio-gogo-goch....see, it's not that hard. Did I mention the Welsh have a spelling problem???
What does it mean? Again...easy for the seasoned traveller -
'The church of Mary in the hollow of the white hazel near the fierce whirlpool and the church of Tysilio by the red cave'.....of course!
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| This is a 'vowel free' village! |
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| Try saying that with only one tongue |
The island has a
two-car rail service that traverses the island west to the
ferry port of Holyhead. As luck would have it, one comes hurtling through the station as we're taking snaps. The sign said to wave the driver down, but travelling at the speed of light he clearly didn't see us!
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| The railway station |
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| The train not about to stop for anyone! |
Anglesey Island is a designated
'area of outstanding natural beauty' and upon reaching its westernmost point -
South Stack Lighthouse, built in 1868 - it's obvious why it is so classified. There are
400 steps that snake down the cliffs and out to the lighthouse that faces out over the Irish Sea, and it is truly spectacular. (
Travel Tip: the area is
'infested' with adders - and I don't mean mathematicians! - during summer, and so now is an excellent time to visit for those like me who have an aversion for slithering critters!). There is much bird life here, and at differing times of the year guillemots, kittiwakes and puffins can be spotted.
The sun is setting and it's simply magnificent. To reinforce the point about the preservation of the Welsh language, we find out that
75% of Anglesey's population of 70,000 speak Welsh as their first language and English as a 2nd language - fantastic!
It's been a long day and so we wind our way down the coast to our home for the next two nights, the
Cefn Uchaf Guesthouse, a beautiful little
B&B in the countryside just outside
Porthmadog and Criccieth.
Mine hosts are, ironically, an English couple (Kath & Steve) originally from Lancashire. Kath points us in the direction of the very convivial
Cross Foxes pub for dinner (where the publican is also an Englishman), and later explains with a knowing smile how in the
early 1970s Welsh 'patriot fervour' ran so high in the north that there was mass burning of properties owned by Englishmen - a pleasant thought to sleep on!
