Bala

 May 8th.   Fine day and we drove over the hills to our first stop at Llanrwst.  

As we stood outside the yarn store trying not to be disappointed at the closed sign hanging there, it miraculously turned and a rosy cheeked lady welcomed us in.   

While Little Sister looked at yarn I asked how big the town? village? was and the lady admitted she didn’t know but said she’d find out.   So we had the treat of listening to her converse in Welsh - almost like listening to a song it is so melodic - as she phoned a friend! Of course I understood not one word although I thought I heard something like ‘American’ and wondered if that was her description of her customers?   Anyway, turns out 3600 people live in this village. 

It must be pretty ancient as further along this street Pickwick’s proudly displayed signage saying it was a Staging Post in 1568.     I saw a modern sign stuck on the window of a vacant store offering a 170 year lease so they must expect to survive a good while yet!

We enjoyed a meander around.

Then on to Bala.  The main reason for this stop was the recently renamed, Mary Jones Pilgrim Centre.   Over 200 years ago a poor 15 year old Welsh girl saved for six years in order to purchase a Welsh language Bible so she could read it herself.   

She walked 26 miles over the mountains to buy one from Rev Thomas Charles who was so inspired by her story and determination, he was responsible for founding what is now The Bible Society.   Fragments of his letters and the record of an interview with Mary not long before she passed away are the only true historical records of this remarkable story.   

Next we went to the Bala Lake Railway and were introduced to Alice, the little Welsh engine.

A narrow gauge railway travelling just over 7 km along the south side of Lake Bala, through the wooded areas and the farm fields where the grazing sheep and cattle seemed to ignore the Choo Choo train.  

What a narrow road it was to drive down to Llanuwchllyn!   Several times my driver, Little Sister, had to pull over to allow the oncoming vehicle to pass and each time our intelligent Mercedes car beeped and squealed warnings that she considered us too close to the hedgerows or the stone fence on the passenger side.   The passenger was too traumatised to squeal or beep.

And our B and B tonight is at Rhydydefaid Farm.    100 acres on which Welsh Black Cattle are farmed, but they also have a contracting business doing bailage, hay etc.   There is a Shepherds Hut which we had hoped to be assigned to but a long-standing regular guest had already booked so we have a charming room on the top story with a window looking out on a beautiful vista across the fields.  However the chatty mother-in-law of our hostess persuaded her friend in the Shepherds Hut to let us see inside so in exchange for some chat about New Zealand we had a tour.   Intriguing to see in reality as I’d only seen one on Amazing Spaces.  Truly tiny but perfectly formed.

And as we leave Wales one abiding memory will be that of the language!   Lilting and melodic to the ear it seems to me to be almost impossible.  My tongue contorts, my brain seizes and I seem to spit and stutter at the assorted consonants and lack of vowels that produce such music from the lips of a native speaker.     I mean - Llanrwst is pronounced  Clan Roost??  As for Pontcysyllte!   

Wales has been lovely and the items on my list have been well and truly ticked. Tomorrow we cross into England with Hereford in our sights.