The Welsh Highland Railway

It is a big call to make, but we believe we have discovered the most picturesque of all the places we have visited. Beddgelert. There was a gentle rainfall for the majority of the time that we were in the town, and yet its appeal was still glaringly obvious. Had the sun been shining, I can’t imagine how head-over-heels we would have been about the place.
It is a village, nestled on the side of a mountain, which is part of the Snowdonia National Park. We left from the station in Caernarfon, and wound our way around the foothills of Mount Snowdon at some stage, but as there were no bill-boards on the side of the hill, pointing up and reading, “Mount Snowdon”, I am not sure exactly what that specific landmark looked like. I expect that it was pretty much like all of the rest of the hills that were around us. There were parts of the journey that reminded me strongly of the West Highlands of Scotland, and more specifically, the Isle of Skye. Visibility was pretty poor, as there was low cloud on the way there, and fairly constant rain on the way home.
Rather than simply sit for two and a half hours one way, get off, stretch our legs and take the return trip, we opted to get off at about the three-quarter mark, and stroll around a village for an hour and a bit. That is how we discovered Beddgelert. We even got to stay there longer than anticipated, when we reboarded the train at the station for the return journey (glad to be out of the steadily worsening rain), only to learn that the station’s water tank was empty – meaning that the steam train could not fill up – meaning that we couldn’t leave. We waited for an hour and a half in our carriage (too comfortable to be bothered stretching our legs once again) whilst the engine was given enough water to get to the next station, fill up, and return to us. We got back to Caernarfon much later than anticipated, but it really didn’t matter.
Over dinner, Lilli began to fade a little, and was happy to get to her bed. She has a head ache today . I guess it is her take on whatever the other two are getting over. Hence another quiet sort of day. The bonus of this, is that I am writing my blog in DAYLIGHT hours, late morning instead of late evening, and that is a treat. Adding to the cosiness is the fact that the rain that set in yesterday arvo has not let up, so the lure of going out is weak at best. We do plan to head to an electricity museum after lunch. We should be able to manage that much!
Wales has been a bit of a mystery to us. When one thinks of Scotland, there are a myriad of images that come to mind and we would all of heard of the Scots from childhood, in jokes, stories or songs. Then there are the Irish, and same again, there is plenty of imagery on the internal files to draw from. The same goes for the English – perhaps our most formed notions of them are gathered from “Fawlty Towers” , ‘Doctor Who” and “Danger Mouse”, but they are images, regardless. But then mention Wales… and what do you get? Perhaps if you strain your brain you think of mines and choirs… but as to personality, character, national identity…nada. Sorry. Could be just me. But nothing.
Are there no stories that I can recall. The only jokes I know of are Brits, paying out the Welsh accent…and that is it. Pardon my ignorance.
It is this ignorance, however, that fuelled my determination to get over here. With time so short, it was tempting to keep going down the Eastern side of England (we never made it to the eastern most tip – sob), but I really didn’t want to have visited every other part of the UK, and miss this. Driving over the border, I felt like we had entered the territory of a tucked away sibling. You know the ones, common in centuries gone by, when a child was deemed ‘an idiot’ and sent away never to be spoken of again, as if it really didn’t exist. Why is Wales never mentioned – what signs of idiocy has it shown, so great, that it is ‘a secret’. Is it quite simply that it IS tucked away? To the edge where the thoroughfare need not travel? Perhaps it is the language thing? A lot of people speak Welsh, not English, particularly up north here. But doesn’t that make a place more interesting than not? It is like entering a truly different country – more so than Scotland or Northern or Southern Ireland. Perhaps, because they have their own language, their separate identity is also stronger, and they really stay somehow removed from the rest of the UK.
I can’t answer these questions, I am only glad to have the chance to visit this pretty part of the land. I only wish that we had as much motivation and drive as we did two months ago, to really explore as much as possible. At best, this end of trip, unwell pace, will allow us just a glimpse of all that is on offer here.
B.T.W. have published our car ad on Gumtree, Uk. If you look it up you can see our great little Mondeo, and a couple of shots of Lilli as well….