Don't Let The Sun Go Down On Me

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There was little to suggest we had crossed the border, as we skirted Wrexham. The scenery remained unchanged. The Hollywood A listers might have changed the landscape at the nearby football club, but it remains to be seen whether a Netflix documentary and a sniff of success can change things in the long term in this neck of the woods. I note a shirt sponsorship with United Airlines and a new category of membership - the International Dragon - suggests a confused influx of Americans might be just around the corner. Well 75 of them each home game to be precise .... the number of tickets set aside each match for this international brigade. I will watch with interest to see if they are also scrambling for the away trip to Mansfield on a Tuesday night in November. The real giveaway that we were actually in Wales were the road markings. "Araf". "Slow". The Welsh language inscription doubles up the size of all signage. The signmakers and signwriting industry are on to a real winner in these parts. Everything needs to be that bit bigger for the translation. We spied an opportunity for Vera to stretch her legs. A Country Park, featuring the Pontcscylite Aquaduct. A UNESCO World Heritage site - I wondered how I had never heard of this construction prior to passing the last road sign? It was naturally in both English and Welsh. Thomas Telford .... he of the town fame ..... and his associate, William Jessop, devised the Aquaduct as a means of the canal crossing the valley to transport the local coal onwards to market. The structure might only be 12 feet wide, but it is a truly remarkable sight. At a 1000 foot long, the 19 arches span the valley at a height of about 130 feet. The histrionic canal barges were plying their trade today, filled not with coal but with tourists. Whether any International Dragons were on board is not known, but if anyone in America is reading and mapping out their future visit - add this to your list. The heat of the day was sapping, so we retreated to the air conditioning of the car and headed west.

The scenery became more rugged somewhere near Llangollen. The town itself straddles the River Dee and looked an attractive stop off, but given the number of visitors around we decided to keep on the road. We made slow progress. As with our recent trip to Norfolk, you can't rush anywhere on these roads. We eventually arrived in Bala, the small town at the head of the lake of the same name .... or Llyn Tegid, if you prefer. The largest natural lake in Wales apparently .... or in Cymru, as the locals would say given a large majority use Welsh as a first language. After a brief stop for provisions, we were off on the final leg towards our accommodation at Harlech on the coast.

The choice of Harlech as a base had been unusually random and primarily based on a photo of the Castle and the miles of dog friendly beach just round the corner from our "cottage". The town itself has a tiny population of about 1500, although I suspect that rises sharply in the peak summer months. The facilities are a bit limited, but I would say the Llew Glass Cafe does a mean flat white and you have to indulge in one of the topped pork pies and some cheese from the deli section of Y Groser next to the Lion. The Plas could be one of the best terrace views in Europe on a good day, but insisting on cash only payment in a post COVID world could be considered a major business blunder.

Harlech is essentially the imposing Castle, which looms over the nearby sand dunes and the Royal St Davids Golf Club. The Castle was one of the fortress defences built by Edward 1 to establish the dominance of the English crown over the Welsh. When it was built in 1283, it effectively stood of the cliff edge and was probably even more imposing. Today, the vista is softened by the dunes and the Golf Club on the seaward side. It is probably fair to say that Edward 1 was never the most popular guy in these parts, but the legacy of the Castle draws visitors from far and wide to marvel at 13th century military architecture. The said military architecture is also dog friendly too, so within reason Vera could enjoy a stroll around too. The rate of entry was reduced, due to ongoing maintenance works. The latter didn't unduly affect the enjoyment. The views from the ramparts are astonishing - the town, the beach and distant to Snowdonia, at 1085 metres .... the highest peak on the UK mainland outside the Scottish highlands. I should of course say the correct name for the mountain is Yy Wyddfa.

In order to reach the Castle from our accommodation, it was necessary to climb the "steepest street in the world". The claim isn't technically true and the good people at Guinness Book of World Records have now set the "record" straight. The said Street in Harlech - Ffordd Pen Llech - sneaked off with the title in 2019 due to an inconsistency in the measuring criteria. At certain points on the edge of the Street, the gradient was classified as a measure of 37 degrees .... and beating the 35 degrees of Baldwin Street in Dunedin, Otago, New Zealand. Common sense prevailed and a re-measure decided the gradient should be taken in the middle of the Street. Baldwin Street wins hands down on that calculation - 35 degrees to 29! The title was restored to the New Zealand candidate. The record might have been corrected, but Street nameplate still makes the claim. The shop - Seasons And Reasons - at the top of the Street will sell you a souvenir sticker to confirm you made the ascent, as well as just about everything else - if you can't see it, just ask, it will be here somewhere. It was 27 degrees, so Vera was in no mood to make a claim for a sticker. She hitched a ride to the top in Dad's arms. After our last trip to New Zealand in 2007, I prided myself that we had now walked up the 2 steepest Streets in the world! The Baldwin Street expedition was conquered without 6kg of Norfolk Terrier in my arms and I can assure you, it is in a different league of steepness compared to the Welsh competitor. The reward for the Baldwin Street ascent was a trip to the Cadbury factory in Dunedin and an impromptu drinking session thereafter with the lads on the Curly Wurly production line. Today, we settled for a quiet pint of something very nice from a Llandudno brewery on the terrace of the Lion Inn. The Lion by all accounts re-opened in 2022, after a long period of close. You are handily placed to observe one of the better sunsets you are ever likely to encounter in the UK. We chewed the fat with a man originally from the Boro and a couple of Australians from Adelaide, who had been playing the prestigious Links golf club below. The Royal St Davids is recognised as Number 2 in the Welsh listings of the Top 50 Golf Courses in the UK. I am no expert on golf, but the £115 green fee per round for visitors suggests it must be decent. The Aussies were on their world tour. I pointed out that they now needed to go to Dunedin closer to home and conquer the "real" steepest Street in the world. Alas, they will not have the option of drinks with the Cadburys boys - the corporate world decided to close the factory down in 2018!

The Castle might be the most prestigious and prominent building in town, but the most unusual is won hands down by the Ardudwy Theatre. As you rise from the Railway Station on the main road south, a strange brutalist building clings to the hillside. It is accompanied by a tower block of similar architectural style and vintage. There are some who would view both as a blot on the landscape in a northern industrial city, so I dread to think what many would think of them perched above a splendid beach in west Wales. The question is, what are they doing here? In between two structures, an Edwardian villa became Coleg Harlech in 1927 - the brainchild of a certain Thomas Jones to provide higher education for working men and women i.e. those who had no access to higher education, because they were obliged to enter the workplace at an early age by financial or other circumstance. The villa was originally built as an Arts & Crafts project in 1907 for George Davison ... photographer, millionaire and early Director of Kodak in the UK. George later swapped his retirement home in Harlech for another place in the sun in Antibes and vacated. The first enrolment at the new College in 1927 was just 6 students. The pre-cast concrete tower was added in 1968 as accommodation for the College with a capacity for 100 students - rooms with a view, so to speak. The Theatre was added in 1973 with a 256 seat auditorium, boasting acclaimed acoustics and superb sightlines. Reorganisation of higher education subsequently led to the closure of the College in 2016 and having been bought by a local businessman seems to have become something of the local white elephant. We spoke to a local, who bemoaned the fact that the building had become derelict and vandalised, although at the time of our visit some work seemed to be ongoing to renovate the theatre. The tower isn't listed in anyway apparently, so its future seems less certain. It would certainly make a splendid Travelodge.

Harlech was a base for operations North and South. Harlech might be the most stunning beach, but other options are nearby. We had a wander at Llandanwg Beach and a brew at Y Maes Cafe. Shell Island conjures thought of something akin to Sanibel and Captiva in Florida and the beach pretty much continued all the way to Barmouth. Barmouth has an impressive setting on the mouth of Mawddach Estuary. Barmouth was originally a ship building town, but morphed into a Victorian tourist hub with the arrival of the railways. Victorians lapped up the golden sands and the bracing Panorama Walk above the town. William Wordsworth described Barmouth as being able to hold its own against any rival. The weather on our visit was nothing short of sensational and you could easily agree with Wordsworth, although I suspect when an inclement spell of weather strikes, the town along with many British seaside resorts could look a little tired. The town is full of buildings reflecting the confidence of the Victorian era and none more so than St John's Church. Churches are not in short supply in Barmouth (or indeed anywhere in this part of Wales) and many have now found a new congregation. A congregation of retail enthusiasts .... take a look inside Pieces for Paces in the old Caersalem Chapel on the High Street. The big action this morning in Barmouth were the work crews taking down the barriers put up for the 3 Peaks Yacht Race, which had kicked off in town the previous weekend. The race is a test for yachtsmen and endurance runners to sail up the west coast of the UK to offload their runners to scale the 3 Peaks - Snowden in Wales, Scafell Pike in the English Lake District and Ben Nevis in the Scottish Highlands.

The railways brought the original tourists to the area and the umique access bridge across the estuary still remains. Barmouth Bridge carries the line south towards Aberystwyth. It was constructed around 1867 and at 820 metres is the oldest timber viaduct in Wales. The central section contains a drawbridge to allow access to the estuary. It is fair to say the bridge has had few hiccups over its life - woodworm, corrosion, storms and weather, marine mine ordnance from World War 2 - but it survives. The bridge now forms part of the cycleway and as a pedestrian crossing.

We headed inland along the estuary for lunch by another classic bridge. The Penmarnpool Bridge is another wooden crossing near the George III pub. The main road now circumnavigates the need to use this wooden classic from 1879, but for a mere £1 toll, why wouldn't you? Loved it. The guy relieving you of the cost, does so with a smile too. What is not to like? The George III is owned by the Robinsons Brewery chain in Stockport, but far from the usual corporate offering was very hospitable. Turn immediately before or after the bridge - the road to the car park is effectively the old railway track to Dolgellau closed by the Beeching Report. The food was excellent. We dined on the terrace out front. The local cattle herd paddled in the estuary and used the bridge as shade from the afternoon sun. Wading birds fished in the water. A pint of Robinsons in hand. In all honesty, it was worthy of a much longer stay. I noted for future reference that accommodation was available. We departed for nearby Cymer Abbey.

I end this blog back on Harlech Beach. A balmy 20 + degrees at 9 o'clock in the evening. A lone yacht sits at anchor in the bay just offshore. The tide has receded. One woman and her dog ... the trusty Norfolk Terrier ... wander along the water's edge, as the sun slowly slips over the Llyn Peninsula. I have seen some fabulous sunsets on our travels. The sun slipping beyond the Gulf Coast horizon at Naples, Florida. The silhouettes of camels, as the sun goes down over the Indian Ocean in Broome, Western Australia. Add to the list, Harlech! Go see for yourself!

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Photos

Harlech
Ffordd Pen Llech ..... the world's 2nd steepest street

Comments

[Rainyb]

Thanks for sharing!