The last leg...
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Wales: the Tour | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Bryn Celli Ddu, Harlech & Nevern The last leg... |
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| Not so famous rock group.. | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Departing from the hotel freshly dressed, pressed, fed and not too terribly sure what it was we were doing for the day; I boarded the bus with a feeling of looming adventure. We drove up to Anglesey, crossing the Menai Straits on the Britannia Bridge, very old suspension bridge that didn�t exactly ease my mind as we crossed it in a large coach. But we made it safely across and tooled across the island for awhile, into the farmlands also known as the �bread basket� of Wales. I saw a lot of sheep, not so much cereal crops. Oh well. We stopped alongside an old farm, climbed off the bus and walked a quaint little path through sheep to a great earthy hill | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Not yourordinary hill, Bryn Celli Ddu is an ancient pre-Celtic burial mound | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| surrounded by rocks. Once you actually look at for more than just a split second, you realise that the rocks and a small ditch form a henge surrounding the hill, which has a small hole in it leading into a stone cavern some 10 feet in diameter inside, maybe 6 feet tall within, 4 feet at the entrance. Oh-ho, what a treat! Giddy as a little kid, I went in. It�s eerie at first and you feel claustrophobic and that at any moment the whole thing could collapse right on your head under the weight of the 11 other Americans prancing about on top of it� but after that sort of wears off, you feel and know that you are in a remarkable place, minus the random �Bill was here� or �I love Suzy� scratched into the stone. The stones are about 4,000 years old, I�m told. And I touched them. I have trouble fathoming that! I mean, my country has only like 500 years of acknowledged history, much of it smashed together to form one piece of history that is blurred and just a sneeze compared to 4,000 years. So once we had all squished into the cavern, did a merry jig on top, we boarded the bus again and headed off stopping briefly into the town with the longest name, which I can�t spell off the top of my head, let alone pronounce. I�ll get it eventually, I�m sure. | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| Room with a view | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| I snuggled into my seat and just enjoyed the ride. When I awoke after a small nap, there was a castle out my window, but I couldn�t see it as it was on top of a cliff and would require a lovely zigzag ascent at a 45 degree angle to get to. My legs still haven�t forgiven me. Harlech Castle, as it was, I think was my favourite; it was smaller than some, not near as busy, full of as many fun walkways and �secret passages� up towers that all lead to each other � it was a castle that had the average, lazy, out of shape tourist in mind! Brilliant architects - minus the location, which again was perfect for throwing boiling pitch on your opponents or something. Now if they had that included in the tour, I�d move in. | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| The gatehouse of Harlech castle was so large, that from inside I had to take two pictures to be able to get the whole thing... of course, my scanning abilities leave much to be desired. | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Pilgrims, Mayflower not included | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| From there it was on the road again, stopping at Nevern church. The churches in this country are amazing. This one wasn�t as spooky as the last, though I did get the odd quiver or two. Standing in the front is a standing stone that had been converted into a Celtic cross. Very old, very pretty. Inside were similar stones, Ohgm stones, with ancient scratchings in them. We took a small stroll along the pilgrim�s route to St. David�s. So many passers by have gone through here, taken a little route of penance, that footholds have actually been impressed into the stone there Also on this route was a stone blockade behind which are said to pieces of the cross, THE cross. I don�t know if it�s really in there � I sat a good deal and wondered. It was a similar experience at Tintern, sort of an �oh, to be there!� wish. This place made me very happy and gave me a great peace. I took in every second of the route, smelling the air, touching the red sap from the trees, feeling each stone through the sole of my shoes, I just wanted to wrap it all up, every sense and emotion, and bring it with me. We climbed back on the bus and it was back to Carmarthen and my beloved Quim House waiting for me. I was home. And oddly, I was home the whole time � the ogling with a dropped jaw at the spectacular scenery, the childlike glee at playing in a castle, the sadness of lost heroes, the awe and humility of magnificent places, it was all home, until June anyway. My home. I couldn�t be more proud or happy to live anywhere else for the year. Well, maybe if I had a top room at Harlech with a pitch-pouring apparatus. | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| A 5th century Celtic cross outside of Nevern church along the pilgrim's route to St. Davids. | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Home | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Back | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| Wales | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||