Adventure Week 9:
North Wales

I take my friends to Wales for the weekend, somewhere I've not explored myself, for a whistlestop tour of towns and castles.

Croeso i Gymru!

By my mother's admission, I was never taken to Wales as child, and I've only visited twice in living memory. Once in 2019 to visit my girlfriend's sister in Cardiff, and then briefly in 2022 to take a photo of the Prince of Wales Bridge.

As a result, Wales is an untapped country of potential adventure. Home to Eryri National Park and Brecon Beacons National Park, there's much I'd like to see and do where mountains are the backdrop. Perhaps like with Scotland last year, this could be the year that sees me fall in love with a part of the UK beyond my native England.

Crossing into Wales, the cultural difference is immediately obvious - Welsh adorns all signs and road markings before English, and with equal stature - living proof of Wales' unique heritage.

The Narrow House

On Friday night I drove my friends Aušrinė and Viktorija across the border for the first time and to our Airbnb for the weekend: a semi-detached house in the peaceful village of Trefiw. Accessed up a steep and winding road, the house stands within audible range of a stream.

An unassuming exterior, complete with gate and shale path, gave way to a charmingly narrow home. From the open plan dining room and living room, the wall containing a wood-burning stove partitions the kitchen and downstairs bathroom, tucked away down a small corridor. A steep staircase near the front door leads up to two bedrooms which take up the entirety of the floorplate.

Despite arriving at 22:30, I wasted no time getting a fire going and warming the house through. We'd spend both of our evenings sat around it, sharing in conversation and amusing ourselves on our phones when not making the most of daylight hours.

Conwy

Saturday morning started in Conwy, a walled market town, famous for its castle and bridges. Parking just outside of town, a pedestrian tunnel took us under the train line and immediately confronted us with the tall stone walls surrounding the town on three sides. A stepped path brought us through one of the many gatehouses, granting us access within.

First order of business was breakfast. Our prepared pick, 2 The Square, provided us with tasty, if bland looking, eggs benedict and vegan breakfasts. My company declined to try Welsh cakes at their first opportunity, mostly due to fear of raisins, though Vika delighted in a pair later in the day.

Rin had picked out an audio guide for us to follow, plan B after failing to secure the same guide for a physical tour due to over-booking. Starting with Conwy Castle, we meandered around the first few streets we'd came across, the pair stopping periodically to listen. While I had deprived myself the opportunity to participate after failing to download the tour myself, I grew frustrated, usually able to fly around a location at my own pace and direction.

In front of the church, I implored us to move to more interesting sights, picking up the audio tour in those locations, and revisiting anything else afterwards. My friends agreed. Our time in Conwy, already limited by a busy itinerary, was already growing thin.

Conwy's town centre is small, dictated by the walls built long ago. This means its original character of narrow streets and old tall buildings is preserved. It doesn't take long to get between points of interest, while the walls and castle loom large along every sightline.

Down by the harbour, a vivid red building, conjoined to a terraced row of houses and a tower, easily catches the eye. Upon closer inspection, a sign informs us that this is the smallest house in Great Britain. It is comically small in all dimensions, even its door makes a shorter person seem giant.

Behind it, the view across the river Conwy and its boats towards Deganwy. We opted to follow the harbour to Conwy Castle, then onto Conwy Road Bridge, to get a better view of the town and its surroundings. From here a U-turn onto Telford Suspension Bridge is possible.

Now sandwiched between the more modern road and rail bridges, the latter camouflaged as part of the castle that it runs right alongside, this nineteenth century bridge was once a replacement for a ferry, connecting both sides of the river by foot, cart wheel, and hoof. On entering the bridge, a crossing toll sign hangs overhead, prices in pre-decimalisation currency.

The bridge itself is a marvel of Victorian engineering - happy to flaunt its metal structure, both function and form. At its far side, Conwy Castle.

Gwrych Castle

Departing one castle, we drive east to another. Gwrych castle sits above Abergele Golf Club and Traeth Pensarn before the sea, a peaceful ruin with an interesting past.

Built as a stately home that hosted royalty, it housed Jewish refugees during the second world war, became a visitor attraction that held jousting games in the forties and fifties, then quickly declined following its closure in 1987. Today's conservation efforts seek to undo much of the looting, arson, and destruction done over the past thirty years.

After arriving and making our way beneath the castle's surviving structure and towers, this story was conveyed to us by an older volunteer who was working in the garden, quite happy to recant the tale to those interested in hearing it. This placed a cloud of melancholy over our visit, knowing that this is a modern ruin rather than a slow decline following centuries of neglect. All the same, the resulting state of the castle bears its battle scars.

It was a delight to walk the surviving rooms and areas, up, over, and behind the interior courtyard. I can see why I'm a Celebrity...Get Me Out of Here! chose the castle to replace its usual desolate Australian island setting with something closer to home during 2020 and 2021 during the COVID-19 pandemic. As we toured, much of the information about the castle was dedicated to the TV connection, explaining which areas were used as sets, and highlighting remining props. It is a canny strategy for getting tourists in, though a draw that has no personal appeal.

I hope to return to Gwrych castle in the future, hopeful that volunteers' efforts will be rewarded and this once proud location will undergo a loving restoration.

Llandudno

Starting to get tired from a day of walking and sightseeing, we rolled back towards Conwy and into Llandudno. This traditional seaside town was a welcome change of pace. Sandwiched between two beaches, the spit of land is hope to countless tall buildings, shops, hotels, and restaurants.

Our hope was to ride the cable car up to Y Gogarth, but after climbing the hillside path to its terminus, we found it closed. At any rate, a great view back across the town was had.

After admiring sheep in the park below, we ventured onto the pier. The smell of frying doughnuts filled our noses, and flashing lights from the nearby arcade dazzled us. We made our way along the pier, stopping at each shop, whether they sold patchwork jumpers or LEGO figurines.

At the far end, an indoor arcade dazzled and delighted people of all ages. After perusing the machines, we felt it wasn't for us and returned, searching for other attractions, but nothing we were interested in was open for the season yet.

Overall, Llandudno was a typical British seaside town - built for its heyday, now clinging on through nostalgia and cheap thrills. We were thankful for our time there, and the delicious pizza we had before leaving, but the town was certainly the low point of the trip.

Aber Falls

The following morning, we set out in search of a waterfall and our only attraction in Eryri National Park: Aber Falls. From the A55 we passed through Abergwyngregyn and onto winding single-track road in search of the nearest parking.

A 1.5-hour out-and-back walk was ahead of us, longer than I had realised while planning. Nonetheless we pressed on, enjoying the peaceful woodland scenery as we went. Before long a large cascade of water down bare rock presented itself in the distance, and we were greeted by sheep, ignorant of the view.

Even from a distance, Aber Falls is impressively tall, but up close the final cascade is most dramatic, scattering across the rocks and fanning out before collecting in the pool below. There was makeshift rocky seating from which to admire it, despite rain on the air signalling a hasty return.

I had brought my tripod with me for my phone, allowing me to capture smoothly panned video and even a timelapse, something I had yet to try with a waterfall. I'm quite happy with the results, and so will look for future opportunities to practice waterfall videography.

Penrhyn Castle

Once back at the car after enduring some mild rain on the return walk, a short drive brought us to Penrhyn Castle, a National Trust property just outside of Bangor. On arrival it was clear that this was a typical large National Trust visitor attraction: gravel car park, ticketing building, pleasant walk to the property, then full estate exploration with a café and souvenir shop. My favourite!

From the outside, the castle's odd blocky exterior inspires intrigue and confusion as to its age. On closer inspection, Norman architectural features are visible, such as semi-circular arched windows, zigzags, and interleaved decorative arches. But no thousand-year-old building is this well-kept, so the homage is evident.

Right from the main doorway, it is clear that detailing is one of Penrhyn Castle's greatest treasures. The decorative wooden door of panels, woven rope, leaves, and a knocker - all fashioned out of solid wood - are for form above function, to astound and to show off immense wealth to those fortunate enough to be invited in. Of course, today that's anyone with a membership card or some money to their name.

It is worth pointing out that this marvellous opulence is built upon the slave trade, with the generational owners of the original medieval house and subsequent expansion opponents of emancipation of slaves in the British Empire. Today the castle remains contentious as a symbol of the glorification of slavery.

Two parts of the castle best flaunt this wealth. The grand hall's cavernous two-storey space resembles the inside of a cathedral, with pillars, stained glass windows, and an upper level looking down upon it all. Further through, the grand staircase is a masterclass of carving and design. Its octagonal skylight illuminates intricate designs from roof to floor, with several levels of grandiose hand rails, carved with various unique panels and faces.

Our time here was scarcely believable, especially juxtaposed against the ruins of Gwrych Castle seen yesterday. Clearly no such vandalism or tumultuous times caused degradation here. As we drifted from one room to the next, tapestry wallpaper and carved slate adornments gave each room its own intrigue. Eventually we began to wonder if the tour route would even end, and we would get lost trying to find an exit amongst the kitchens and servants' rooms.

Perhaps the highlight of the trip, in no small part because of our middling expectations being more than succeeded.

Llanfairpwllgwyngyll

I would be remiss to visit this part of Wales without a detour to something obscure and silly, especially if it involves a sign. Crossing onto the isle of Anglesey via Pont Britannia, the A55 bypasses an otherwise unremarkable village with a famous name: Llanfairpwllgwyngyll.

It is made famous by its lengthened name, Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch, purported to be the longest place name in Europe. From Welsh it roughly translates to: the church of Mary in the hollow of the white hazel near the fierce whirlpool and the church of Tysilio by the red cave.

I love this sort of thing because it is an unnecessary fiction designed to increase tourism, and it succeeded on me. Visiting the train station to see it on a comically large sign was worth the visit alone. Nothing more interesting could keep me here for more than 5 minutes.

South Stack

From Anglesey we chased the edge of the land, crossing to Holy Island, home to Holyhead, but our destination lay further yet. West of it, along the last narrow country roads is South Stack, the last protrusion of cliffside land before the Irish Sea.

After parking up, we wandered down to the cliffs for a view of Goleudy Ynys Lawd, a lighthouse on an island, perfectly sized for its structures.

With a mixed weekend of manicured tourist experiences and natural sights, it was nice to end the trip on the latter. Sunny weather and little breeze afforded us an opportunity to drink in the scenery and reflect on such a peaceful location from atop the perilous cliffs.

I left Rin and Vika for a quick burst of exertion up the nearby hill, in search of a view up to the Isle of Man. While one didn't present itself from this distance, I was able to spot Goleudy Ynys Arw and another lighthouse beyond, clinging to rugged rocks.

On my return I chanced across a view of a couple looking out to Goleudy Ynys Lawd and the endless blue expanse beyond. In places like these, it is impossible not to feel significant when confronted with the awesome scale of terrestrial geology.

Conclusion

It was a treat to begin exploring Wales and what its north edges have to offer. A well-rounded mixture of castles, towns, and natural wonders reminded me of my first few times in the Scottish Highlands, and the possibilities for adventure that it unlocked.

I look forward to returning to Wales later this year!