Welsh Wonders
My Great Escape: Our reader Carolyn Ross discovers the beauty of north Wales
It’s embarrassing to admit that only now at the grand old age of 64 I have discovered the breathtaking beauty of north Wales. Lured from Buckinghamshire to the region by the Portmeirion classic car run, my husband’s 1964 Daimler Dart effortlessly steered us through a magnificent route which teemed with dramatic hills, mountains, lakes, rivers, streams and waterfalls and many, many sheep.
North Wales is lush, green and wet. The Daimler Dart has a soft top which can sometimes prove problematic to put up, especially when time is of the essence. We left our hotel the first day with breakfast under our belts, and the top down. Within a few miles it became apparent that this was a bad move, as a light drizzle became a downpour. Gamely we wrestled with the hood, waving wetly but cheerily as our fellow classic motorists passed by tooting a sympathetic horn. Ten minutes later we had the hood up and, bearing a passing resemblance to drowned rats, dived into the interior where we generated a steamy mist all the way to Caernarfon.
Along with its medieval castle, this pretty town possesses infinite streets and passages studded with delightful inns, including the Black
Boy which was built around 1522, and which proved to be a more than agreeable locale in which to enjoy a cappuccino while drying off.
No trip to Wales would be complete without visiting its highest mountain. The run took us to Llanberis where we abandoned the cars in favour of a train that took us halfway up Mount Snowdon. Hordes of climbers were trekking up the footpaths to the summit where, we were told, there were no facilities open. It was shrouded in mist so there was nothing to see, and it was heaving with people. So we contented ourselves with a blustery stroll around the halfway point at 3,500 feet, allowing ourselves to be shoved hard by sudden gusts of chilled air, refreshing as a cold shower, and gazed down at a quiet lake which changed with a chameleon-like quality from slate grey to brilliant turquoise as the sun came in and out from behind the scudding clouds. There was more we saw, and so much more we didn’t see. There was also momentary hysteria when we came across a quest of an alternative route to the next rendezvous point. Each day of our trip finished with a welcome libation bathed in evening sunshine at the Portmeirion Hotel and in happy anticipation of a divine dinner menu.
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