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Art & Culture

various essays on, well, art and culture

Bookbinding & Conservation

lessons learned from this profession

Humor

ok, I'm not the guy from SNL,
but I still have a sense of humor

'Jim Downey' Stories

mostly true stories from my
adolescence

Personal Essays

more "it's all about me"

Politics

I’m at -7.13/-7.33 on The Political Compass.  Where
are you?

Society

observations on the human condition

Travel

Europe 1994

Wales 1998
      London
      Saturday
      Sunday
      Monday
      Tuesday
      Wednesday
      Thursday
      Final Friday

Wales 2003
Wales 2006
CCGA Vignettes

Saturday:  Into Wales


The Kenilworth knows how to put on a real breakfast, that's for sure.  There was a wide selection of fruits, juices, and cereals for the "Continental" component of the breakfast.  But there was also a hot-breakfast buffet, featuring a wide selection of great foods (and, unfortunately, the nasty, pasty British excuse for sausages), such as ham (British 'bacon'), kippers, haddock, poached eggs, scrambled eggs, roast tomatoes, and more.  We stuffed ourselves, then went and collected our carry-on bags.  All the 'luggage' was handled by the hotel staff.  Very decadent.

Gathering together with the other members of our band, a small coach came and collected us, driving the few minutes up to Euston Station.  There we got first-class passage on a fast train to Crewe, passing out of London and up through Birmingham, pretty much along the same track we took when we went to Wales via Chester in 1994.  Running through the English countryside, along one of the much-used small canals, it only took about two hours, and we were in Crewe.

This is when we met Eddie.  He was to be our driver for the next week.  About my age, this easy-going Cockney would help Alix and I understand a number of things about the British that I never had a chance to understand in casual conversations last time we were over.  He had driven up from London earlier that day, taking some four hours to cover the distance that we had covered in two by train.

Jan had been hoping that we would get a cooperative driver, one who wouldn't use the union rules that govern that profession to be difficult about where and when we could go.  She was concerned that we might get a "stroppy" Welshman; she explained that she saw the Welsh as a usually delightful mixture of "soppy" (almost melancholy, sentimental) and "stroppy" (confrontational, stubborn).  Well, Eddie was about perfect, willing to accommodate our changes to the scheduled itinerary without complaint, able to take that medium-sized coach places I'd think twice about taking my car.

We headed west from Crewe, into the border lands of the Marcher Lords.  The gently rolling countryside of western Britain gave way to the small mountains of northern Wales.  Somewhere just south of Chester we got into the valley of the river Dee and got into the Vale of Llangollen, widely considered one of the most gorgeous bits of driving in Britain.  It was quite beautiful, the late-summer sun cutting out of the clouds now and again, just enough to brighten patches of trees, highlight occasional castles and fortified manors of the Marcher Lords.  We came to the town of Llangollen, below the remains of the 13th century Welsh Castell Dinas Bran.  Llangollen is noted for hosting the International Eisteddfod each July, for the 15th c. stone bridge they have, and for their "Dr. Who" exhibition.  Yup.  Weird to pull into this beautiful little Welsh town and be greeted by the signs for that.  Seems that back in the '60's, there was a little shop there where they made props for the series.  And it kind of became a Mecca for fans, not unlike Portmerion for the "Prisoner" fans.  But more on that later.

We stopped for a late lunch in a pub overlooking the Dee.  Here, and everywhere else I could do so, I tried a pint of whatever brew I had never heard of before.  Some were traditional ales, made either on premises or locally.  Others were bitters or lagers that came from one of the large brewing conglomerates.  For the most part, they were pretty tasty.

Following a bit of lunch, we went to Valle Crucis Abbey, in the bottom of a quiet, horseshoe valley of the Dee just a bit upstream from Llangollen.  Well, mostly quiet, though not right next to the Abbey itself.  See, this was the "Summer Bank Holiday" (sort of like our Labor Day), and hordes of middle-class Brits had taken to the roads, many of them going off for a bit of camping with their tents and trailers.  And there was a campground right next to the Abbey.  The boomboxes were booming, young boys were tormenting ducks on the fish-pond of the Abbey grounds, and the shriek of small kids filled the air.  Yeesh.

Anyway, the very early Abbey (about 1201, I think the second such established by the Cistercians in Wales) is in remarkable condition.  Some of it is down, some of it has been restored, but much of it is still standing as it was almost 800 years ago.  The Chapter House and dormitories are still in excellent shape, the entry to the church is still largely there, and the classic cross-shape of the church is still quite evident, as even the interior walls are still partially there.  With the Abbey itself as a buffer to the noise of the campground, it was easy to allow the centuries slip by, feel what the place must have been like when first established.

We left Valle Crucis to go to our hotel.  Jan and Eddie decided to take a path that would be a little more scenic, allow us to see the ruins of Castell Dinas Bran a bit.  Well, it was certainly scenic.  It was also a 14% grade, uphill, through the narrow little Welsh roads that are lined on both sides with the dry-stone walls so typical of Wales.  From our seats in the coach we could see over the walls, but really couldn't see how close the bus was to the walls, it was such a tight fit.  Now, a 14% grade is the sort of thing you almost never see here in the States, outside of some jeep trails out west.  It was low gear all the way up that hillside.  Then when we got to the top, the sign for the road down was for a 26% grade, and it was low gear all the way down, using the braking power of the Mercedes diesel engine to keep the coach under control.  Made you feel like you needed to brace yourself from sliding forward out of your seat.

As beautiful as the Vale of Llangollen was, this was even better.  No major roads, just a small almost-two-lane blacktop through the open hillsides, with lots of sheep and a few black Welsh cows watching as we wound from farmhouse to occasional farmhouse.  This was the valley where the film "The Englishman who went up a Hill but Came Down a Mountain" was filmed (yes, the film, a true story, was supposed to be set in south Wales, in the Brecon Beacons, but it was filmed in the north).  About the time the blacktop ran out, we came to the small village of Llanarmon Dyffryn Ceirog, right on the small, clear-water stream of the river Ceirog.  Just over a low bridge was "The Hand hotel, a group of half-a-dozen interconnected small buildings.  We got into our rooms, and had a few minutes to kill until dinner.

Alix and I struck out to explore the village of maybe a couple dozen homes of varying ages.  Mostly, it was reminiscent of the Swiss village of Vättis that we stayed in four years ago, though Vättis was significantly larger.  Friendly people, friendly dogs, wonderful little flower gardens bursting with color.  The sort of place that would be perfect to settle into when you’ve won the lottery and want to get away from the world, just be a good neighbor and maybe learn a little Welsh.  Just up from the river, around the corner from our hotel was the parish church, parts of which date to the 14th century.  Surrounded by massive native cedars, the churchyard is filled with the small slate sarcophagi so typical of Wales.  The door was locked, and the man who has the key wasn't in, so we didn't get to enjoy the interior of the church.  Instead, we followed a path down to the river.  The nearby cows got to enjoy us stomping about, chattering to one another about the nutty Americans.

Dinner was delicious, and the company good.  Eddie and I sat together, talking and getting to know one another a little better.  He had a good sense of humor, joking about how he felt (and how we all looked) going up the mountain and then back down the other side.  Overfull with good food, Alix and I went out for another little stroll.  We climbed up a hillside until we could enjoy the village below in the waxing moonlight, but it was cool and damp, so we headed back to our room, and retired.
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all work © James T. Downey, 1993-2006
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