It’s becoming a normal thing that I never have enough hours in the day. Now, I realise that this is mostly down to my own time management and planning, but surely I cannot be the only one out there. Ever since I got back from New Zealand at the end of April, i’ve been working my butt off. Consequently, the time to plan getaways has been challenging to find. It’s only recently that I had a few days to play with. Five magical free days in between work trips. Finally, a opportunity to escape.
I have been trying to get back to Wales for a couple of years now. So when the chance came along to head back it became obvious. Given, I was sceptical about trying to see an entire national park in a short amount of time, but I have learnt…when the mountains are calling, you have to answer. Even if it’s only five days.
Even though the distance to north Wales from London looks a bit challenging, its actually not that bad. I chose to head up to Birmingham and hire a car from there. The train system is more reliable and its geographically closer to the park itself. After not driving for a good two months, it was an absolute dream to get back behind the wheel again…and this time, in a hybrid. Dang, those cars are quiet. I made the choice to stop in Llangollen because of my Grandma. She had visited a few years ago for the international musical eisteddfod so I wanted to see one of the places that she loved. I’ve been on a bit of a ancestry journey recently so am loving putting more of the pieces together. Especially if travel is involved.
Llangollen was just as it had been explained to me. A small little town with a river running though it and the cutest tea shops dotted down the main street, obviously a major selling point. Walking along the river is so calming and a welcome change from London. Before leaving I made sure to visit the Pontcysyllye Aqueduct, a short drive up the road. It’s one of the few in the area that assist canal boats traveling through…quite an engineering feat.
Driving into any national park will always be one of my favourite things to do. The greys fade away into every shade of green, the air is clean and crisp and the breeze through the mountains takes all your everyday worries away with it. As my Welsh friends had told me, Snowdonia in all its rugged beauty has parallels to New Zealand. As I began to hike the trails and explore more, this became even more apparent. The untouched mountains and the small dirt paths reminded me of similar ones back home. There was one difference I noticed however. Now, this may sound a little crazy, but the shades of red (especially in the sunsets) are different. They are richer and deeper. Instead of light reds and pinks, burnt orange tones and deep, fiery reds. Perhaps the Welsh dragon dancing through the mountains?
I was able to do three amazing trails whilst in the park. One of these being Mt Snowdon, the highest peak in the country. It takes a good six hours to complete and on a clear day you can see Ireland from the summit. I however, had a low cloud day…so I saw the steam train, ha! It’s the easier way of getting to the top of Snowdon. There are multiple trails to get to the summit, it just depends on how challenging you want the climb to be. I think I must have chosen the most popular as there was multiple people completing it. For those of you wanting to do the same, I took the Llwybr Pyg (Pyg track) to the summit and the Llwybry Mwynwyr (Miners’ track) on the return to the Pen-y-pass trailhead. If you find that parking is overflowing (the carpark is small), drive down the road ten minutes to Llanberis and get the shuttle bus. Very easy.
At first glance, the other two trails I embarked on seemed pretty straight forward. What I did not plan for was mother nature. She can be one cruel mistress. Turns out my new nemesis is low, thick cloud. Let me explain. It was the first full day in Snowdonia, so decided upon a hike not too far from where I was staying. It all started well, clear skies and easy trails. Once at the summit of the first mountain (Glyder Fawr), I had made pretty good time and decided to attempt the second one before looping down on the opposite side of the trailhead. The closer I got to the summit, the thicker the cloud became. The thing was, even though visibility was pretty low, the trail was still clearly marked out within what could be seen in front and behind you five metres (yes, I do realise this does not sound great). As I continued along the trail, the path got less and less defined. This is where I met two guys along the trail who seemed to be in the same predicament as I was. We all kinda continued on together and long story short, we combined forces and got back to the point that the original trail was meant to lead to. Ioan and Ben…I’m buying the first round if we cross paths again in the future.
The second one was my final day. The weather was forecast to pack in early afternoon, so I choose a small three hour hike before the weather set in. Once again, there was low cloud cover near the point of the trail I was planning to reach. But unlike last time, it was an easier trail to navigate. Mother nature gave me a cheat to reaching the lake I was intending…waterfalls and streams. The one time visibility got low or the trail seemed to disappear I could still hear the water. As long as I could hear that running water I knew I would be close. Five minutes later and I found it (well stumbled upon it really).
With low cloud cover and a gentle cold wind coming over the towering mountain of Carnedd Llewelyn it was only possible to part of the lake. The part I could see however was amazing. It looked like I had wandered into Narnia. Both mysterious and magic. The best part however, occurred 20 minutes later. I was about to head back down the trail as the wind was picking up. I turned around to take one more look before descending and within a few moments the wind had cleared the cloud off the lake exposing the mountain behind. I will always be in awe of the ‘grandness’ of creation and in that moment, it was solidified in my mind. It was just me and the mountain.
On my final evening I decided to celebrate my trip. I was staying at an Airbnb in Caernarfon, home to the to the smallest bar in Wales (and Caernarfon Castle). It was here that I obtained both a cheeky wine and a crash course into the Welsh language. As usual, I wandered in and took a seat at the bar. Not like usual, I couldn’t understand a word anyone else was saying. It was a room full of welsh guys and me…and annoyingly, I couldn’t understand a word. I had no idea that the Welsh language was used so predominantly over English (when i visited other parts of Wales I had hardly heard it at all). The more I listened, the more I loved it though. Because I couldn’t understand the translation, it made me love the fact that the national language was being preserved through its people.
Having your own national language is a wonderful thing and made me reflect on home and how different it is. Kiwis, we could learn from Wales here. Our Maori language is a beautiful one, heavy with heart and soul. I know I will be making more of an effort to pick up more of it (especially living so far away from home). Leaving the bar I couldn’t help but smile. My little getaway had been wonderful. Full of sights, sounds and learning. I know without a doubt I will be back to discover more, but next time I’m going to try to learn a bit more Welsh. Greg, you better believe I will be paying more attention to your language lessons at work!
Sending hugs & smiles,
Vanessa
