North Wales

North Wales

Foothills of Snowdon

 

 North Wales still proves to be that comfortable old aunt that that you can always go back and visit any time without out a smidgeon of embarrassment. Memories flood back of family holidays as a kid when you leave the more mellow landscapes of England and enter the slightly wilder world of North Wales. The beautiful curves and humps of Shropshire give way to the rich green valleys and steep sides of Wales. The names of Cader Idris, Snowdon, and Bedgellert seem to invoke those memories particularly of camping and caravan holidays in farmers fields, ancient wash rooms and showers, gurgling mountain streams and country smells of grass and sheep. It is the mountains of Snowdonia that tug at the heart strings more than anything.

Barmouth itself where we stayed lies at the south end of the Snowdonia National Park, conveniently close to Cader Idris and Dolgellau. A recent newspaper article stated it to be one of the most expensive seaside places to stay for a holiday in the UK, ranked fifth after St Ives, Tenby, Cowes and Dartmouth. You wouldn't quite believe that if you visited, a plum spot but a bit on the quiet side. It’s probably a bit too far south for those who want to be snuggling up to the foothills of Snowdon, as it’s still a fair old drive up the coast via Harlech to hit the immediate Snowdon range. But it’s still a terrific location.

We were installed in Wavecrest, a tall, grey brick Victorian B and B stuck right on the seafront in Barmouth crammed alongside a whole series of similar establishments overlooking the Irish Sea. Imagine a slightly toned down Fawlty Towers. Eric presides over his B and B fiefdom with pride, making sure that you don’t sit where you want in the breakfast room. Eric is a doughty Welshman with a good sense of humour and an endearing deafness. Woe betide you if you sit in the wrong seat. And your key goes in the drawer in the hallway before you leave the house. It seems that Eric’s fame extends far and wide. Even at my workplace I met a colleague who has stayed at the very selfsame B and B when they even used to do evening meals. He was put onto the place by another colleague who was a bit of a railway buff, keen on the local steam trains.

Barmouth has a lovely setting with extensive beach flaying out from the Afon Mawddach estuary mouth and banks of sand ‘floating’ in the middle of the tidal waters, immensely scenic. The town lies on the north side of the estuary and is a hoch-potch of grey slate Victorian buildings, a slightly austere seaside town at the head of the estuary, straddled up the hillside and along the coast, presenting a bit of a dour face.  It has that air of slightly faded prosperity, the type of place that would have been popular with holiday trippers from the West Midlands in the early and mid 20th century (there were certainly still a few Brummie accents on display). Now it still brings in the holiday makers, but I suspect most of the action takes place further north, or even south in Aberystwyth. The old railway bridge across the estuary has a pedestrian footpath alongside which we walked almost to the other side on the first night. A temptation for another day as the expansive hills on the south side provide an inviting prospect for fell walkers. By the way, don’t try to get the train from here to Aberystwyth, it’s a long and tortuous route.

Above the town are some great walks over the hills with fantastic views over the sea and coastline, and also over the river valley to the east. The Panorama walk is well worth doing, we did a sort of circular route and tried to keep to a map but ended up losing the path and scrambling back down to the tiny lane at the end.

We decided to take the road north from Barmouth and then head west into the ‘Pig’s Ear’ to have a look at Abersoch. We would stop at Portmeiron on the way. For some reason I thought Portmeiron was on the North Wales coast and was pleasantly surprised that it was actually within striking distance at the south east corner of the Pigs Ear.

Portmeiron is the Italianate village associated with the sixties TV series, the Prisoner, starring Patrick Mc Goohan. I’ve seen the odd excerpt, with our hero, Number 6 swanning around in black, and oversize balls bouncing around the village as if a giant demented board game is in process. I understand he is an ex spy who is being kept under some sort of lock and key for his own good. It costs £10 to get into the village, and you can stay there for a holiday, although I suspect it is very expensive. We did not see No 6, but we had a young Welsh guide in a suit to take us on a short tour, and he was very tight lipped about prices. It looks like the plaything of a very rich man who thought he would reproduce the Ligurian Rivera in North Wales. It was in fact built by the architect Clough Williams-Ellis who bough the site in 1925 and spent 50 years building it. The village is perched on the north side of the river estuary on its own private peninsula, a very attractive location and a jumble of Mediterranean style architecture in different pastel shades mixed with finely tended gardens and water features. There is even a train ride. The village is surrounded by 70 acres of sub tropical forest gardens with lakes, temples and gazebos. A haven for anyone who wants to impersonate an English gentleman. The place was swarming with tourists going in and out of the gift shops and down to the waterfront. I would love to be there for a ‘Prisoner’ convention to see the village filled with multiple Number 6s with drainpipe trousers and black rollerneck sweaters dodging giant bouncing balls, seriously weird in a Star Trek convention kind of way!

What's Italy doing in North Wales?

 

Yes it is Wales!

I found out later that you can get a 'Be Our Guest' package for £130 including dinner and bed and breakfast being offered in November and December of 2014. All Portmeiron cottages are grade 2 listed buildings. used as holiday cottages and hotel suites.

Outside a hotel adjoining the village was a quintessentially British scene, a row of little sports Jaguars of a certain vintage stood parked on the hotel apron, hoods pointed towards the estuary glinting in the sun far below. It really needed James Bond in plus fours and carrying a rifle to step out of the hotel, deftly jump into a little speedster, and roar off for a bit of game shooting. Would have been a great backdrop for a TV advert.

Take the road west along the coast into the Lleyn peninsula and you pass through the towns of Criccieth, Phwelli and then Abersoc in the west which is supposed to be a bit of a millionaires spot. Here we explored the town centre and perused the beach. The coastline here reminded me of Swanage in Dorset. The Lleyn Peninsula is a terrain of sweeping open rural landscapes across to the nearby seas. However there is plenty of evidence of holidaymakers with family in tow enjoying the late August sunshine.

If you want a great ride then take the road north from Barmouth along the coast, via Harlech, and then into the heart of the Snowdon range. Harlech itself is a neat spot to spend an hour or two. Perched on an outcrop starkly rising above the plain bordering the sea, it is a marvellous spot to look out to sea and to the mountains of Snowdonia. In fact if you find a spot on the terrace at the back of the hotel on the High St you will enjoy a view every bit as good as the one I witnessed earlier this year on the Amalfi coast, different, a little cooler, but just as good. And we enjoyed fair weather as we sat for lunch. The castle is a good visit, a huge rectangular affair still preserved enough to bear the feet of countless tourists ascending the towers, walking the ramparts and peering into the great green space within. The views are peerless out over the plain and north to the mountains. In the evening it is all lit up as you pass beneath it on the coastal road, perhaps even a bit underlit.

Hurrah for the Welsh Dragon

 

Heading north from Harlech you need to bear in mind that the bridge over the Afon Glaslyn is inconvenientally out of circulation in the process of being rebuilt/upgraded, so you have to take the long road along the south bank of the river, then traverse the river to bend west to Portmadoc. From here you head north on the A498 to the splendidly named Bedgelert, a pretty village in a green and pleasant valley buried amongst serious hills. From here the road climbs into more wild and majestic scenery, with various spots to get out and admire the mountain and lake scapes.

When you get to Llanberis you can park on the grass verge just as you enter the town, this saves the parking fee opposite the mountain railway station. Here is all the infrastructure you need to prepare for an assault on the highest peak in England and Wales, eating places, toilets, a great shop with museum, and of course the old station with its classic steam engines. But don’t make the mistake of thinking the first hill you see is Snowdon. Bad mistake, it’s a long way up yet!

Snowdon supertrain!

Snowdon slopes

 

The train up Snowdon is a mind blowing £20 one way and bank account emptying £28 return, guaranteed to wind up the misers amongst us. We were advised to buy the tickets the day before which we did on the phone, being charged with a further booking fee! However it is an hour’s ride each way over 9km which helps to soften the blow, with marvellous views all the way up, which we were privileged to see until just before the very top when a huge black cloud descended and took us into in a melee of fog and mist marooning us all in the summit cafe. The cafe is heaving with the world and his wife today, I don’t think I have ever seen so many people scuttling up, down and on the top of a mountain. Surely good for the national blood pressure and chlolesterol levels. We decided to nip the last few yards to the top, took our photos despite the fog and a maul of people crowding around the summit pillar, then to make our way down the Pyg track to catch the last bus to Llanberis. The Pyg track is recognised as the most difficult one, the most ‘rugged and challenging of the six paths up Snowdon, but we coped OK coming down!

Incidentally this part of the world is stuffed to the gunnels with little steam railways, the Ffestiniog railway, the Welsh Highland railway, the Talyllyn railway, and of course the Snowdon railway. So if you are a railway buff, grab that anorak and camera and get up here for a cornucopia of iron horse delights. By the way there are another three railways on top of the ones I mentioned!