Those Boring Welsh Views

Typical

Some years ago, a postcard dealer offered me a large box of what he called 'boring Welsh views' at a price too good to pass up. He wasn't wrong, there were a lot of very boring Welsh views. I duly added them to my collection by the photographer Fred Judge and they have sat in the box, unloved and unappreciated until yesterday.

But yesterday, Judy and I took a small bus tour around North Wales. It had rained all night and the weather was gray and drizzly when we left Liverpool and proceeded to get worse the further we progressed into Wales. Of course, Judy and I were the first ones at the pick-up point. The tour had actually been cancelled and then re-instated when additional people had signed up so we were expecting a small group. Three Australians (a couple and her brother) arrived shortly thereafter. They had come to Liverpool from Australia by way of Texas (long story) and they were all avid Reds. A large group of men soon joined us, looking a little the worse for wear and speaking a language unfamiliar to me. We assumed they were not the type of group to be taking  a nice little sightseeing tour through North Wales. We were wrong.

As we loaded, we found the thirteen men were from Malta and in Liverpool for the Southampton game. So there were eighteen of us: Judy (only politely interested in footie) 13 Maltese Reds, 3 Aussie Reds, and myself. The driver supported Manchester United. Banter ensued. He gritted his teeth and played 'You'll Never Walk Alone' as we took the Queensway Tunnel UNDER the Mersey to the Wirral, through Port Sunlight, and ultimately to Chester. Chester has been high on my list of 'places I want to visit next' for a long time and although we just drove though and stopped long enough to pick up one more rider it absolutely confirmed what a special town it is.

Sadly, I have practically no photos for this post, the weather was not photo-friendly and the bus windows were tinted and wet. After Chester, our first real stop was the Pontcysylite Canal Aqueduct. It was built in 1795 and is still taking canal barges across the valley high above the ground. There is a walking path along the aqueduct so everyone except the bus driver, one man with a fear of heights, and myself, took the ten minute walk across.

Where the canal feeds onto the aqueduct.

It was about this time that our Driver, Alan, informed us we would be playing a little game as we went along. We were to keep a sharp eye out for black sheep and upon sighting one we were to call out "Black Sheep Right!" or Black Sheep Left!" Upon verification, we would add to our total until the end of the day. It seemed a bit childish and the first few sighted were only sheepishly called out. (See what I did there?) By the end of the day, each black sheep was heralded by half the bus and counted with glee. Being trapped on a bus for 9 hours can be a very bonding experience.

Next we drove through Llangollen. I had been there years ago for the Eisteddfod (the national song festival of Wales) and as a 12 yr old, Amy traveled there with the Northwest Girlchoir.

Without stopping we proceeded to Betws-y-Coed and stopped for lunch. We had some very good cod and chips and then hit a few gift shops. Tour busses just flow through Betws-y-Coed regardless of the weather. At the deli I picked up some Licorice Flowers and Dark Chocolate Fiery Ginger for Amy & Arne, some Lavender Syrup and a small package of Welsh Butter Fudge for myself, and a package of Peanut Snaps for the staff at the hotel. I'm not kidding anyone, those Peanut Snaps will never see the front desk! I am pleased to say I left the bookstore with only one package of English-themed Christmas cards...I did NOT buy the Cath Kidston Coloring book!

We left Betws-y-Coed in the pouring rain and passed another spot where Fred Judge was quite busy. This is what Swallow Falls normally looks like. We saw an absolute torrent of water.


From there, as we went into Snowdonia National Park, it was water, water, everywhere. In most places the mountains were hidden by fog and rain, low-lying land was a flood plain, and sheep huddled against stone fences where the ground was higher. Countless rivulets tumbled down the mountains and streams rushed across the road above small bridges. It was wonderful! Anyone can take a tour on a sunny day and see the mountain tops and the nice contained lakes. Not too often do you get the chance to experience firsthand nature on the warpath.

Once out of 'Waterworld' we crossed the Britannia Bridge across the Menai Strait between Wales and Anglesey Island and crossed it back again. On to Conwy Castle and a chance to spend some time exploring the castle...in the rain. Judy, the Aussies, and the man from Chester explored the castle. The men from Malta found a pub. I sat in the bus and had a wide-ranging conversation with our driver: Brexit, Trump, Dorchester, retirement...everything but footie.



Our last stop was Llanfair PG, otherwise known as Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwilliantysiliogogogoch, the second longest place name in the world.

At the old Train  station

By now, the grey skies had turned to dark grey, and after a quick swing through the seaside resort town of Llandudno we headed back to Liverpool. It seemed a long dark ride with many of us nodding off for short periods, except for the Maltese who were, not surprisingly, quite jolly. It was a long tour, and the weather was terrible, but we thoroughly enjoyed the ride and our driver was most entertaining and accommodating. He even played YNWA for us again as we entered Liverpool.

I can't wait to get home and look though that box of boring Welsh views to see what they look like dry.