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Wales: the Tour |
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Dolwyddelan & Caernarfon |
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It's not the size that matters... |
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We stopped at a curious place along the way. Dolwyddelan Castle � a Welsh castle belonging to one of the Welsh princes, pre-13th Century. Very different in everyway from the other ones we�ve visited. Like the complete opposite from Raglan, or as I would discover later, Caernarfon. It blends so perfectly into the landscape and has a charming little stroll to get up to it. It�s up on top of a hill, a great location for defensive purposes but not so much for the lazy tourist as myself. But the path was quite nice, empty except for us, and beautiful. When we got up there, the castle itself was just as charming. Empty and tiny compared to the others, |
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Caernarfon Castle at night |
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| essentially one main room with a steep and very dark stairway to the tower (that�s what was left standing). Climbing up to the top, you were rewarded with a most wonderful of views, the whole of the landscape on all sides (well, there was a bit of a haze that limited it, but it was still spectacular). This place had heart and character, namely, I think, because it didn�t have much as far as ornate and grandeur went. Funny place, sort of Castle-plain-and-tall, and then for the evening stroll to Caernarfon Castle, the textbook example of grandeur in a castle. The Welsh castle sort of pales in comparison, with regards to size and presence, in the light of the king of the Norman castles, Caernarfon. It�s like a spectrum game, Caernarfon on one side and Dolwyddelan on the other, all the others sort of falling somewhere along the line in between. And this I noticed just from looking at it outside, in the dark. That night after supper a few of us walked down the road to look at this most impressive architectural giants (built in under six years with an unparalleled amount of manpower � King Edward must have been nervous about something to almost bankrupt England building things like this). The place is extremely impressive, and almost haunting when floodlit. I guess that�s why it�s there. We walked all the way around it, which took a good chunk of time, strolling along the harbour, wondering what Caernarfon was like in the 14th Century when the town was bustling within the walls, wondering what it must have looked like during its construction in the late 1200s to those it was meant to suppress, what the medievall Welsh thought of it... Or did they? I always inappropriately stick a William Wallace attitude to it, but I am not sure how much French the average Welshman knew... |
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Caernarfon Castle looked not so haunting in daylight, but it still looked extremely formidable. I would have been the soldier attacking who would turn to my mates on either side and say �Well, I�m impressed,� and probably drop my stuff and ogle at it, rather than try and attack. The atmosphere was very mixed inside. Some chap had set up his bagpipes and sat tooling a little ditty here and there whilst I forced my cramped up legs to climb just one more tower, which they blatantly refused to do. I must have looked absolutely ridiculous having to heave my legs up one at a time, trying not to lose my balance on the steep stairs, and then pausing in little outlets halfway up the tower, thinking they were a passage to somewhere, only to find myself back at the same staircase, unbeknownst to me, and would complain about being lost. It was great! But it didn�t seem as magical as the others. Probably because of the million or so tourists swarming about the courtyard, posing for pictures and hollering up at their spouses on the walls. So a couple of us went off in search of postcards, browsing through the fifty tourist shops along the way and prepared ourselves for another long bus journey... |
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not so scary with the lights on... |
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