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Another country, another mountain
02 September 2016 21:08


We had a successful trip to Snowdonia at the weekend. There were eight in the Barefoot party, then two of my cousins with their families, and various other friends of my cousin. The event was to mark what would have been my cousin’s husband’s 60th birthday.

My cousins find it quite amusing to see my new “family life” having been a non-family man for so many years. We were chatting to my cousin, and CGF was listing the members of our party: “two are eighteen, one is sixteen, one is fourteen, and one is ten”. “Whoa”, I interjected, “where did all these kids come from?”

CS3 and I set off early morning and CGF followed later, after CS1 had finished work. We had a good journey with not much traffic. There was a heavy rain shower soon after crossing the border – “just to prove that we are in Wales,” CS3 observed. On the A5, both CGF and I (independently and without collusion) pointed out to our passengers that we were travelling along the oldest modern trunk road in the UK. We were both met with a teenager “yeah whatever” response.

CS3 and I met CGF’s brother and niece at lunchtime and took a trip on the Welsh Highland Railway. This is a new* narrow-gauge line that runs between Porthmadog and Caernarvon. We travelled half the distance, from Rhyd Ddu to Porthmadog and back.

*there’s been a railway there before, but it fell into disuse and was only reopened a few years ago

At Porthmadog we had just enough time to stretch our legs and look at the harbour. We also saw the Farlie’s Patent double-ended locomotive chugging past on the Ffestiniog Railway.

We stayed at a youth hostel, which was a first for everyone except me. Everyone really enjoyed it. It was basically furnished, but clean and comfortable, and the food was good. Pretty much all you need. There is something about the informal nature of a youth hostel that makes them friendly. You don’t feel that you’re on parade all the time – and can lounge around in scruffy clothes without getting disapproving looks from the other residents or staff.

Dumb Ruby moment: I couldn’t work out CGF managed to arrive at the hostel only an hour after we did, when she left home five hours later. I’d temporarily forgotten that we’d been in the area all afternoon.

We had two four-bed rooms and for the first night put the four girls in one and everyone else in the other. The two younger girls were awake at 0500 and disturbed the older girls with their chatting and routing through bags. “Right, we’re not having that again,” they declared, and demanded a change to the sleeping arrangements. So CGF’s brother and I shared with the younglings the following night. Guess what – they didn’t wake up until 0730! Well, originally we were all woken up by CGF‘s Brother calling “it’s ten to eight”. I jumped out of bed, wondering how we had overslept, when he continued “Oh, hang on, it’s only ten to seven”.

Monday we climbed Snowdon. Weather was wonderful – clear skies, and good visibility from the top. It was also very popular, with hundreds of people on the summit. One little boy made us laugh when his father pointed out the train: “but daddy, isn’t that cheating?” He had a point.

The eight of us kept pretty much together on the walk – though as we got close to the summit the teenagers (plus the ten-year old) pushed on and got to the top first. They also got to the bottom first and crashed out on the beds! As we crossed the railway line near the summit I heard an unfamiliar voice “how are you doing, Ruby?” I looked round – it was my cousin’s husband who had travelled up that morning and now caught us up on the walk.

On our way home on Tuesday I suggested we stop at the Pontcysyllte Aqueduct.
“Why would we do that?” asked CGF
“Because it’s an aqueduct” I replied.
“Yes, but would do you want to stop there?”
“b e c a u s e   i t ‘ s   a n   a q u e d u c t”

Turned out that my idea was generally acknowledged to be an inspired choice. The sun was shining; there was a marina (as in place for boats, not an unlamented British Leyland family car of the 1970s), a coffee and ice cream stall, and a walk across the aqueduct – the highest and longest in Great Britain.

All we now need is a trip to Northern Ireland in the next four months to visit every country in the UK this year. And if we could climb a mountain in England and Northern Ireland too that would be even better. Neither is likely to happen.

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