July 13, Monday
A light rain confined us to the car on the drive from Lledrod to Beddgelert. Considering how little rain we had seen until this point, the weather could only be regarded as cooperating. We had intended to stop at a particular town (tomorrow’s trip). It was best that we did not.
Our approach to this town was miles down narrow, houseless roads, leaving me to think I had booked another remote farmhouse, kept amused by shorn sheep. Not so.
The town of Beddgelert boasts three pubs, several restaurants, three decent hotels, and a few novelty shops. Our GPS took us down this narrow alley to a foot bridge that even a European-sized sedan could not traverse. The actual road to our hotel required crossing the two tributary rivers.
Rod found it easy to enjoy this immaculate town with its fine stonework, freshly painted details, and superb setting. We made two dinner reservations immediately, one at our hotel where the owner buys and cooks from a selection of what the market offers; the other at a restaurant recommended by our hosts in Lledrod.
We took a hike to the top of the mountain behind our hotel. By California standards, this is not especially high, but the Welsh make up for that by leading unsuspecting tourists into what we thought might be our alpine grave when we completely lost track of anything that could be called a trail. Had it not been for a small series of better equipped hikers appearing and disappearing, apparitions from what must have been our town, we might have spent the night with the mountain goats. (Not their best choice, either.)