Beddgelert


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.

IMG_2559The 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.

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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.

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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.)

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We showered quickly and reached our restaurant at 8:31 for a 8:30 reservation. As Oscar Wilde once quipped, “Punctuality is the thief of time.”


4 responses to “Beddgelert”

  1. I would have missed the sign for “Fudge” had I not blown up that specific picture. Let it be known that I blow up every picture that allows the option. I’ve not seen Rod any happier than his stay in the British Isles. Whether on a bridge, posing in a roadway, hovering over a flower bush, or impatiently waiting for you to click the picture so that he can pick up his utensils and dig in, he always appears happy. I suppose you might want to take credit for picking the right moment to snap his picture. Had we been fortunate enough to have entered Wales via Lledrod, New Quay, or Beddgelert, instead of through Cardiff, our opinion may have been much more favorable.

    Now I can’t imagine how a couple of seasoned hikers could get lost on a hillside overlooking two rivers you knew about before heading up hill. Thank God for GPS systems. and maps, for a compass just wouldn’t do much good unless you knew in advance where north was located.

    Great pictures. I’m quite envious of your entire trip, but especially these great little villages. Thanks again for sharing.

  2. I thought that these were the best pictures of Rod. He seemed to enjoy himself on this trip like no other.

    You might be surprised to learn how perilous a mountain can seem if you think you might be walking over a steep hillside that no other human has ever gone. Without a trail, we always feared that we were going to climb up or down into a dead end, only to discover that there was now only 20 minutes of daylight left. The climb down to Beddgelert was really steep and difficult. And wet. We had gone into one dead end earlier only to find that we could not remember our way out. It was nerve-wracking, but I tried not to let on that I was beginning to panic.

    Next time you plan a trip, give me a jingle first. I know that you thought I had gone to Cardiff, but that could have been corrected in two seconds. I looked into Cardiff before we travelled and then wrote it off (last trip).

  3. My tongue was deeply embedded in my cheek when I poked fun at your getting lost in the hills around Beddgelert. I only wish my back and legs would be capable of keeping up with you guys. I did get the OK to resume 100% of whatever I might wish to do, after September 2nd, 3 months after surgery.

    I didn’t mean to imply that you had visited Cardiff only that it possibly wasn’t as bleak as we viewed it in the rain and at night, in the cold.

    The parts of the British Isles and Europe that amaze me are the narrow streets resulting from the closeness of buildings. But in the British Isles they continue with the narrowness even in the countryside where there is or might have been room to expand the widths. It is quaint and might be fun at times but possibly dangerous at other times.

    Our upcoming trip to Bermuda I’m told has the same issues with narrow streets and roads. With tour buses buzzing around, mopeds are especially a dangerous mode of transportation. Please contact the Queen to get some clue as to why this is their normal and let me know the results.

  4. Decades ago the US made a decision that individual cars are better than public transportation. From that grew our cluttered highways and sprawling suburbs. What I see in Europe is a sense of place that people get from living and working near where they grew up. This does not apply to everyone, of course, but it does apply enough so that you see people taking responsibility for the flowers and cleanliness of their neighborhood. Also, at least in the cities we visit, tv plays a much smaller role in the lives of Europeans.

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