Wales Archives - Woman on Her Way

July 26: Aberdovey

Glorious day all around. Cloudless deep-blue skies and mild temperatures (mid-60s to start, and then lower 70s) made this the perfect day to explore Aberdovey. As we waited for the bus, a local to Plas Panteidal (where we are staying) offered us a ride into town. I love how helpful people are in Wales. The town is only a five-minute ride away, but the road is so narrow and windy that walking on it is prohibited.

This coastal village is much richer than Tywyn, very upper scale. It has 840 inhabitants, fewer than it had about 150 years ago. A third of the population is retired, and 40% of the homes are holiday rentals or second homes. The shops and restaurants are expensive, as are those in most resort towns. Two pubs and the library have WiFi.(Guess which we picked).

At the pub, I had a tasty carrot and coriander soup with a warm baguette and creamery Welsh butter, so much better than the one at home.

On the pier was an Outward Bound class teaching the students how to jump off the dock. The youngsters wore diving pants and boots since the Atlantic water here is as cold as that at Old Orchard Beach, Maine. This young lady jumped without hesitation, while others needed coaxing and screamed in terror.

After we returned to the cottage, we cleaned and prepared for our departure in the morning, heading to Holyhead to take the ferry to Ireland. I will again be entering a new country.

July 25: Tywyn

Today started off rainy and cool (upper 60s), but ended up glorious. We hoofed the mile to the road, and then waited almost an hour for the bus to Tywyn. (toe-in). This seaside town does not have the charm of Machynlleth, but it did have a few interesting buildings. The Market Hall (left), once known for its great bargains, is a recent construction (1898) and is still used as a market. On the other hand, the Assembly Room (right) is now a movie theater.

St. Cadfan’s Church, originally built of wood, was destroyed during Viking raids, and then rebuilt of stone during the mid 12^th century. In 1692, the tower collapsed, burying the altar and the 13^th century Sanctus Bell, which was recovered in 1811 when the church was fully renovated. Inside the church is the Cadfan Stone; the inscriptions on its four sides are considered some of the oldest written Welsh.

There are two train stations in Tywyn: the commute train, and the Pendre Station, home of the Tal-y-llyn (tal-a-thlin) railway, the world’s first narrow-gauge, steam-engine locomotive; it was designed to carry passengers and slate. This “great little train” is now maintained by steam-engine enthusiasts and is the first railway in the world to be saved and restored for the tourist industry. At one stop, the Cei Tywyn station, a museum houses Britain’s best collection of narrow-gauge artifacts.

Instead of taking this train, we did the Pendre Station Walk, an easy four-mile stroll through the valley. It was quite enjoyable; with the clouds gone and the air warmed to mid 70s, I was able to take off my jacket. This is the weather that Dennis likes–cool and dry, whereas I like it much warmer.

We passed through a “kissing gate”:

We met several anglers along the Afon Dysynni (avvonn duss-unny), but the fish weren’t biting. It was breezy along the river, and a red sailboat glided along on slightly choppy water. We only saw one swimmer, even though it is mid-summer.

There were few walkers along the path. Passing a family of three, I noticed that all were wearing long-sleeves. Since Dennis often kids me about being a chilly-willy, I felt vindicated in that I was sleeveless.

Entering a wood, we came upon signage describing the Ynysymaengwyn (unniss-mine-gwinn) Manor. We asked a local how to pronounce the name. Once it rolled of her tongue, Dennis said “Well, that’s obvious.” We all laughed.

The manor was used by refugees after WWI and as a camp for the Royal Marines during WWII. In 1948, the estate was given to the Tywyn Council. Since it was in disrepair, it was burnt as a exercise for the local fire department, and then flattened by the army.

Most of the buildings are now in ruins. There remains an eight- or 10-foot high wall with several arched entrances. Inside, is a mowed field about the size of an acre with picnic tables strewn about. We did not explore all the pathways and gardens, but we did pass the dovecote, a building for domestic pigeons (see below). Looking at the building makes me wonder how many birds were kept here.

When I was in Spain, I enjoyed Principe Cookies. I have found a new love, a chocolate ginger biscuit by Border. The box describes the cookie as “The perfect balance of crisp crunchy ginger biscuit and devilishly dark chocolate…If our Dark Chocolate Gingers banged your gong, you can vote for them at …” Guess I will do this, once I have WiFi access.

July 24: Machynlleth

We took the local bus into Machynlleth (mack-unth-leth); the bus drivers are skilled in maneuvering the bus on narrow and winding roads, sometimes skimming the bushes as we passed the on-coming vehicles. I think I have been walking too long; riding in a vehicle seems very fast, almost scary.

Welsh names are difficult to pronounce, even for the English. Recently there was a kidnapping and murder in this town, and the newscasters really messed up the pronunciation, so much so that at least three people told me about it.

The clock tower (77 ft.) is the most imposing structure in town. Constructed in 1874, the tower is a relative newcomer to the town that traces its Celtics origins to 500 B.C., and meriting it the title as the historical capital of Wales.

There are prehistoric ruins, remains of an old circular Celtic fort, Roman roads and bridges, and ecclesiastical references dating back to 1201. The language spoken in town is a modernized language of the Celts and is one of Europe’s oldest living languages. On the return bus, Dennis asked a woman sitting beside him if the 3- and 5-year-old children spoke Welsh, and she replied that they spoke it better than she since she was originally from “down south.”

Celtica (right) was erected in 1653, but it has been refurbished several times and is now a historical and interpretive museum of the history of the Celts, and its archives are available to anyone interested in Celtic history and culture.

Wednesday is market day, and vendors set up stalls to sell vegetables, meat, fish, bara brith (spicy fruit loaves), dishes, clothing, hardware—just about everything. There are also many independent shops selling local food, colorful fabrics, and clothes and several cafes and eateries, a few with WiFi. you can enjoy local lamb, tasty Welsh cheese (mostly cheddar), creamy yogurts, and potent beer.

Since there were marketers in front of the parliament building, we took a photo of the backside. This stone edifice was built in the early 1400s to commemorate the site of the Welsh senedd-dy which convened in 1404 to elect Owain Glyndwr, a Welsh hero, as the leader and is the start of an independent Wales. This was 600 years before the current parliament.

The buildings in town demonstrate the town’s long history. Some buildings are a mixture of the old and new (to the right is the terracotta entrance to the smithy, which is now a private home); old stone buildings abut Victorian shops; and a Georgian style hotel and gentry homes make the town very quaint with its rich architectural variety.

Below are pictures of the two main streets. On the right, you are looking down Hael Maengwyn; on the left, you are looking up Hael Penrallt.

July 23: Aberdovey

I am very grateful to our host for the library stocked with regional maps and books. From these, we planned our itineraries and learned about the local folklore. The bird book helped me identify the various species that came to the bird feeder. I spied the Ménétries and Sardinian warblers, jays, finches, and others I could not name. I’ve never been a birdwatcher, but I can now see the appeal.

Dennis worked on his antennas for most of the morning. When pulling the antenna down from a tree, a small portion of wire often breaks off, making it difficult to tune the radio on the desired Amateur Radio band. He measured and cut two wires, one for 20 meters and the other as an all-purpose antenna, including the 40-meter band he likes to operate for making US contacts. After preparing the antennas, he threw the wires into a tree using a water-filled Coke bottle as a weight and then “tuned” the antenna to the radio. Though this might sound boring or too technical for you, Dennis was in his element, enjoying his 50+ year-long hobby.

Tomorrow we will visit the “Wales central metropolis,” Machynlleth (mack-unth-leth), which has had a weekly market on Wednesdays since 1291. We will take a bus there, about 15 miles from Aberdovey.

July 22: Aberdovey

This morning’s rain pattered noisily on the observatory windows. After studying the maps, Dennis was certain that we would find a short cut over the mountain and into town. By noon, the rain cleared, but a haze remained. When Dennis and I went exploring to find this shortcut, we were treated to beautify views of the Dovey estuary. UNESCO has designated this river mouth and valley a “Biosphere Reserve.” It is the only one in Wales and the second in all of the UK. In addition to protecting wild life, the Biosphere preserves diversity of the area’s beauty, the local knowledge, language, and culture.

In the 5^th century, the estuary determined who would be king. Maelgwn Gwnedd gathered the tywyssgion (princes) at the mouth of the river to settle which of them was to be the King of Wales. Each was to bring a throne, and the last one remaining on the throne would be king. When the tide was out, they placed their thrones on the beach and waited for the tide to turn. Everyone had grand thrones made of metal and precious stones except for Maelgwn, whose throne was constructed from goose down held together with wax. As the tide came in, his throne floated and he become king. In this case, ingenuity won out over vanity.

Dennis may have found a shorter path which we will try later this week.

Later that afternoon, we went in search of the Bearded Lake (Llyn Barfog). The lake is nestled in the Snowdonia foothills not far from Aberdovey; the only way there is on foot. In hopes of a swim, we had taken towels but the water was rocky and loaded with lily pads. Though the water was warm, we decided not to go for a dip.

Why is the lake so named? Some say that the water lilies which bloom from June to September give it the appearance of a beard; the romantics say it is named in honor of King Arthur’s foster-father, Barfog, the bearded one; and those who believe in magic and fairies say the name came from a magic cow who provided many gallons of creamery milk. When she got too old to produce milk, the farmer hired a butcher to kill the cow. A little green fairy woman prevented this from happening and then took the cow and her calves into the lake. From then on, the farmer’s luck changed for the worse. I don’t understand how this fairytale ties in with the name of the lake, but that is the legend associated with the lake.

I had looked forward to a week of rest and domesticity, but trying to bake in an unfamiliar oven is challenging. I tried to bake ham slices, but the oven did not get warm enough to cook it and I ended up cooking it in a pan. I hope I will be able to bake the canned chicken and mushroom pie that I bought.

Dennis has not had success in contacting American amateur operators. Tomorrow he will use his own antenna to see if that makes a difference.

July 21: Aberdovey

Yesterday we met Sheila Harper on the train. She is an octogenarian who was a teacher and then headmistress. During WWII, she and her siblings and cousins were sent to Wales; she is returning to see it, having heard nothing has changed. She regaled us with stories of her childhood, her time teaching the RAF, and her post-retirement trips and amateur Shakespearean acting.

Time sped quickly, and as we approached Machynlleth (Mac), where we were to disembark, the conductor announced that the first two cars of the train were going to separate from the rest to go a different direction. People scrambled with their luggage in the narrow aisle to change to the appropriate cars. What a hoot!

At the station, we asked for directions to Pas Panteidal, a small community near Aberdovey, and were told how to get to the bus stop. Later, the French couple we approached returned to drive us there. The woman had an English mother and had spent her summers as a child in this coastal area. Since she had never been to Pas Panteidal, she was curious to see it; her less-enthused husband drove us about eight miles out of his way to the turnoff and then up to a progressively narrowing mountain road to our rental hilltop chalet. The view is fantastic from here, but the closest grocery store is three miles over the mountains. As we asked our neighbors for directions, Jill and her mother-in-law June decided that we would not have time to hike to the store before it closed and kindly drove us there.

Taking advantage of not having to backpack the groceries, Dennis and I grabbed can goods and basics (including two bottles of wine) enough to enable us to eat for several days. To thank our helpful neighbors, we will give them our linen when we leave. This was a great exchange for both of us.

Dawn awoke me at 4:44 A.M. Sunrise at 5:15. I propped my pillow to block the rays and fell back to sleep. After rising, I fed the birds and enjoyed the brisk mountain breeze and glorious morning. Our landlord left a note saying we could feed the hedgehog peanuts. Never having seen one, I hope to coax it out from the woods.

It took us 2.5 hours to walk to Aberdovey. Since it is Sunday and there are few buses, and since we are also carrying groceries, we will take a taxi home. The fare is £8 ($12.21). For this reason, we will not be coming to town too often.