Jul. 20th, 2011 | 03:09 pm
smg.photobucket.com/albums/v624/CindyM99/U
After ten days on the cruise, I thought I was well past the element of surprise. I have to tell you, by this point I was on my last legs. (Not literally, I was still hanging out in my wheelchair ninety-nine percent of the time.) but I was pretty much done. When we got up that morning, it was foggy and grey and those of us with a tendancy toward motion sickness had had a pretty rough night. I had actually had to leave dinner because I couldn't take the rocking any longer.
I remember waking up thinking "I can't do this today." and then just as quickly I remembered, this was the BIG day, the one Mom and I had waited for the whole trip. Train day through Snowdonia. (The link to the site detailing the train ride is in an earlier entry pre-trip entry) Anyway, we fought for our place on this locomotive. The cruiseline had sent out an email asking people to book early and we never got the email thanks to a database error that Princess discovered well into the booking process. So me being me, I called them and told them that because of their error we were now on a waiting list and how was that fair? Within two days Mom got a call, they apologized, saying they would do everything they could to get us booked on that tour. So, they found us a spot, and voila, train day!
I knew my adrenaline was going to have to carry me through, and it did, with some minor (okay, major) glitches.
As soon as we made it off the ship, I knew this port was going to offer a different experience. For starters, in order to get off the "base," we had to drive down a one lane road that spanned over the water. It was a new experience as other ports hadn't had anything like this, usually we had to rely on the lifeboats, this relied on a steering wheel and a steady hand.
Of course we wouldn't have gone off into the water, but after a rough night at sea, it can easily feel like you were going to slide right in...
I knew right off that we had two good tour guides this time. Both the driver and the actual guide were native to Wales, and it was obvious that both took great pride in that.
In Northern Wales, they speak Welsh and English. They are required to take English up to the age of sixteen so there was no language barrier here. Though both were perfectly comfortable with English, they spoke Welsh to each other and our guide (Nina) indicated that speaking anything else between them would seem "unnatural."
I have to clarify that we were in North Wales. Apparently, in the southern part of the country, they are perfectly happy speaking English so Welsh is dying out. Not so in the North. They are proud of their heritage and seem to hang onto it with a kind of grim determination. Right off the bat, you sense that the road for this civilization has not always been paved with kindness and that there are serious issues between Wales and England that prove problematic, likely for generations to come.
We made it safely off base, quickly coming upon Anglesey, home to Will and Kate. Nina had actually been in their farmhouse as friends of hers used to rent it for summer holidays. "Obviously, it been made over to accomodate them, but not much has changed about the place." Kate and Will enjoy the local pub, and Kate is spotted regularly on shopping detail in the market. The locals enjoy the idea of Kate and Will's first child being born there, but I think they also understand that it's not very likely.
The boat below is one of the fleet that can get you to Dublin in 99 minutes. It was just recently completed after MANY delays. (Sounds like projects around here) The locals joke that they thought it would never set sail, nicknaming it the HSS--Hope She Sails Soon! The best part? You can bring your cats and dogs onboard as long as they have a "pet passport" which includes microchipping and can take up to six months to complete. Love the pet idea, but think six months for your pet to clear customs is a bit much!
You know you're in the the UK/Wales when you pass castles on your way to other things. To them I think, it is just the "norm," part of their landscape.
There's a house out on the tiny island in the middle of the water, can you see it? Our guide called it her "dream" home. I call it stuck in the middle of nowhere. I mean, I love being alone, but even I have my limits.
Some kids ended up setting that bridge on fire. It took them six years to rebuild it. They are also looking to build another bridge that could handle bus/truck traffic to make the area more "accessible." Personally, I enjoyed the lack of/slower traffic and put it in the category of "be careful what you wish for."
See?? Much better view of the house--still don't want to live there, rent for a romantic weekend? Okay! :-)
On our way to Betws-y-coed...A cute little resort town that made us feel like we were in the Alps of Switzerland. Our guide had spent summers there as a child and had lots of fond memories of the area. Little shops offered unique items at a reasonable price and really, it felt as if you had fallen off the edge of the world and landed in this peaceful/charming spot. The air was crisp/clean, the people friendly.
Ironically, after we got back one of Mom's co-workers asked her where she got her shoes and when Mom answered "Betws-y-coed" she knew immediately where it was because she had spent childhood summers there as well. It is in fact, a small world.
Wales has more sheep than people.
Sheep population of Wales is four times greater than that of humans. (3 million versus 12 million)
Other fun Wales Facts/Interesting Trivia
www.klickthis.com/wales_facts.html
I should probably clarify why some of these pictures look blurry/foggy. Well, we were speeding past in the bus (a refrain I have repeated many times in this log.) and as you can see, it was foggy/rainy at many points during the journey. Our bus driver looked all of twelve, so people kept asking him if he was old enough to drive the bus. He would flash a sly smile, and drive on. He was a cute little thing, and the ladies had fun teasing him. I of course, did no such thing! I quietly enjoyed the view with the rest of the sane passangers:-))
The rain held off for the most part, but no doubt it affected the pictures. Mom did a great job snapping away, despite some pretty adverse conditions.
Adverse conditions, yes, we were about to run into some more of those, but this time, Mother Nature had nothing to do with it, this time is was all man-made (or women made if you want to get specific)
We made it to Ffestiniog Railway just in time to catch our train...
Now in order to understand what happened, you have to know that Mom and I had a pattern by now. We had taken to letting all of the other passengers off the bus before we made our way down because we didn't want to hold anyone up. It was a mistake for this stop because we weren't going to take the wheelchair on the train (no space) so what was left was the two of us lagging behind with Mom pulling on my arm. Normally, I would take my crutches for this sort of thing, but the train tracks were RIGHT THERE and the crutches were safely tucked away on the ship, two hours away.
As we climbed off of the bus, we quickly noticed that no one else was around. Again, we had red circles stuck to our jackets with our bus number on it, so, they weren't hard to miss, they had simply vanished.
The pressure on my arm increased as Mom pulled me along to the tracks. Initially, we figured they couldn't get far, so we were keeping our eyes peeled for the red seven plastered on our fellow riders. Mom led me up the tracks and it wasn't long before I noticed that we were clearly on the wrong side of said tracks. I was standing literally a foot from a very active track and it made me nervous. I began telling Mom that we needed to get to the other side. I saw people loading onto the train from within the station that was just ahead and I wanted to get in line with them.
Instead, we kept walking and Mom stopped me in front of an open car and began helping me up. I knew right away that something was wrong. There were no other people in the car, red sevens or otherwise. I yelled back down "This isn't right, this isn't right..."
Not sure what to do, Mom caught the eye of the conductor up front "We're with the group." She shouted over the hiss of the engine. "Where are you headed?" The conductor asked "How far are you going?" 'is this the right train?" Mom asked ignoring the man's question, clearly starting to get a little panicked. "This train goes to Ireland." he yelled back.
Those words sent both of us scrambling. Mom hurried to help me down and the conductor now seeming to understand our predicament, shouted down at us. "The mountain train is over there..." The clear other side of the tracks. "You have eight minutes."
Once again, I felt myself being dragged by the arm as we hurried to make our train. We still weren't sure what route we had to take to get there, and panick was starting to override both of us. At one point I told Mom I had to stop and throw up. Even as I said it, both of our legs kept moving, our eyes searching...
Mom finally spotted the path to get us over to the other side, thank god because unlike the trains, I was running out of steam. We got to the antique train and started knocking on the doors. Finally, a door swung open and hands reached out to help me inside. There they were, the blessed red sevens shining like a beacon. We'd found them! I settled back in my seat before promptly leaning my head against the cool window pane. I felt so sick. I was tired and overheated and even the cool sense of relief wasn't enough to stop me from feeling like I wanted to jump out of the window. Instead, I let them shut me in. Shut me in this hot, stuffy train with four people who wouldn't stop talking. "We loved that trip, not as much as this trip though, this is great, have you been here before?" Honestly, after five minutes of hearing them cluck like hens, I wanted to through them out the window too.
Mom choose that moment to take this picture. I didn't upload it into the album, but I'm nothing if not honest, and all of my friends have made comments about how happy I look in all of the pictures. Not this one. Mom had just discovered the black and white feature on her camera. "At least nobody will see how green you were. It looks like a mug shot!" she cackled gleefully. Yeah, it does.
Drama aside, here's the rest of the pictures. It was a drizzling/foggy day so the pictures aren't the best quality, but Mom did a great job just snapping away trying to capture what she could. On the bright side, any thoughts of veering off the tracks and tumbling over the mountainside were lost on me as I just wanted to get through the hour long trip. Honestly, I felt like I was in the twilight zone. As you snake up the mountainside you see sheep, some just standing there peering back at you, but some, some of them are living in peoples' backyards.
We didn't get a picture of the train so I've downloaded one to place here. We were a little busy trying to find the thing. It reminded me of the type of train you would find yourself on during a child's field trip with their school. It's likely used for just that purpose in the area. Still, kudos to all the volunteers who keep this thing running (they built the tracks too) to keep their history alive. They used to mine slate in the area and it kept the town vital for generations. Now, the town is lagging as it struggles with both a high unemployment rate, and the need to "move on" even as it fights to preserve it's history. This was a slate mining town and Nina spoke fondly of her Grandfather who would walk into town every Monday morning and stay there for six days straight. Even though the job was "local" all of the miners stayed in town and her Grandfather would return home every Saturday night with the minister in tow.Her grandparents lived next to the rectory so would "host" the clergyman before his Sunday service. So, as you can imagine, lots of work, little family time yet a great pride in providing for their families. Struggle town or otherwise, the pride was still there, still lingering in the roots of this charming place.
Aww..I don't have any pictures of the sheep hanging out in the backyards. Mom warned me that she was "going to delete the blurry ones." Before she gave me the last disk of pictures. Total bummer because I distinctly remember an image of a sheep hanging around a yard. She obviously went delete happy on these pics because "bus driver dude" has disappeared too. So, to sum up, I paid for a crazy expensive train ride so we could take four pictures (one of which looks like it belongs on a "Canada's Most Wanted" poster) and hang out with some overzealous tourists. Okay then. Next!
After seeing the sheep/lambs hanging out in the fields (and in the yards) it was decided that we were all hungry enought to EAT the lambs. It almost makes me sick typing it, nevermind actually doing it. So, we rode to this hotel for lunch and I swear to you, it was my plan to sit outside while the others ate. Only after I realized that the dining room looked out over the front lawn did I know that wasn't going to happen. So, I sat in the hotel's front sitting room sipping on a Coke and reading the paper. I couldn't bring myself to sit with people who had no trouble wolfing down innocent animals after we had watched them graze peacefully off the land all afternoon. I'm not a vegetarian, but I have my limits.
Honestly, I enjoyed the quiet, and reading the paper gave me a glimpse into Wales and what matters to them. And what do you know, I found a bunch of "come to our store to receive this free item" coupons. Some themes are universal!
Nina told us this great story about her Grandfather walking out to the road each morning to catch the bus into town. He was a miner, who along with the majority of the workforce, mined slate. They were away from home six days out of seven and on Saturday nights he would come home with the minster in tow because they lived next to the redtory and would "host" the clergyman for Saturday supper prior to his Sunday morning service. So, you can imagine how little family time there was, though there was no shortage of pride in the ability to provide for the family. Her Grandfather died from lung cancer. Most of the minors developed respitory issues/cancers from breathing in slate dust.
In it's own way, Wales reminded me of Quebec. They are fighting to keep their own identity/traditions alive while trying to cope in the modern world. That said, I found Wales to have much more appeal than Quebec ever will. Quebec whines at Canada constantly wanting money, recognition, special status, pretty much anything they can get their hands on. It's annoying and frustrating and for the most part, the only people that will lsten to it are the politicians (who unfortunately hold the purse strings) so Quebec gets what they want, while holding the rest of us hostage with threats of leaving. (Which IMO most of us would cheer heartily for.)
I digress...
Wales still has ties to the Monarchy, but they have their own coucil members who represent the people in each different area. They also have their own medical system/coverage and seem quite happy with the arrangement. There is talk of "breaking away," but I didn't get the feeling that it was imminent.
There's one thing that seems to stick in their craw and that's the fact that though Charles holds the title of Prince of Wales, he continues to refuse an offer of residency there. They have offered several locations over the years and heard nothing but a resounding "NO" from the monarchy. The title of "Price of Wales" dates back to the 1284 when the son of Edward ! was born here. Since the birth of Edward II (future heir to the throne) it has been a tradition to grace the British Crown Price with the title of "Prince of Wales." So, you can see why they would be a little peeved that the monarchy continues to snub them. Hence, their faith in the future resting on William's shoulders.
The area is known for two huge festivals throughout the year. One is the "Royal Welsh Agricultural Fair"
www.rwas.co.uk/society
The other is their music festival.
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eisteddfod
Pavarotti's father used to sing here when he was a child, and would bring his son to the festival in hopes of immersing him in Welsh culture. It worked. Pavarotti maintained a residence here and would return often. The festival is the equivalent of "American Idol" for them. It is a HUGE deal and everyone watches on t.v to catch both the local and international talent.
All in all, the scenery here was beautiful. Once again everything was so green and luch. The drive back to the ship through Snowdonia was breathtaking as we wound around curvy roads, forest on both sides. We also caught a glimpse of hikers as they made their way along one of the many trails (not something I would have attempted on the terrain.) I'm so disappointed that there aren't more pictures. Blurry or otherwise, I would have liked to have had them, if only to ivoke memories. "Do you remember how steep this road was, can you believe how green it was, hey I remember this stretch of trees!" THAT is why I don't delete pictures.
Anyway, I hope you've gotten s bit of a feel for Holyhead. It would have been nicer if the sun had come out and I wasn't feeling so blah, but all in all, I enjoyed the scenery. If you ever get the opportunity to go through Snowdonia, take it. nature at her best along with people that really care about what happens to their culture/society.
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