Roving Reporters
Visit to North Wales
Friday 17th June 2011
Roger invited us all:
"Come on and join our convoy
Ain't nothin' gonna get in our way.
We gonna roll this convoy
Cross the North Wales way!
Convoy!"
And so, we all met up at Roger's house: Colin and Marian, No.2 car; Ken and Granville, No.3 car; Roger, Nicola and Nigel, No.1 car at the front of the convoy for our 2011 tour of North Wales. Be sure to remember your number.
Morning coffee, tea and even hot chocolate were on the menu. We were so fortunate to be offered a drink, since Roger's kettle broke the evening before, and he had to borrow one from his next door neighbour's to be able to offer us early morning drinks. She did not supply biscuits though!
On our way to Betws Y Coed, we stopped off to visit Trefriw woollen mills. Nicola commented that we had driven all the way from the textile mills of West Yorkshire to learn about the manufacture of cloth in the heart of North Wales!
Do you know that there are about 500 breeds of sheep in the world? Interesting what little facts you pick up.
At the end of the self-conducted tour of the mills, the mill shop beckoned. Roger turned out to be the best customer, investing in a beautifully woven bedspread with a traditional Trefriw geometric design and at an eye-watering ticket price. One day, if you are lucky, he might invite you: "Come and look at my new bedspread!" Watch out!
The sales assistant advised us to go and look at the "pre-hysterical" fish in the lake Llyn Crafnant high up in the Gwydyr Forest Park above Trefriw. Yes, that's what she said. So just for the laugh, (could not resist that one!) off we rallied up the narrow mountain road to park up at the lakeside café, where we enjoyed tea and homemade cakes. The lake is indeed the home for wild brown trout. How "pre-historical" they really are, I cannot tell you, but they do indeed live in an idyllic setting, as we witnessed for ourselves walking by the lake-side.
… The Swallow Falls YHA is a part of the Swallow Falls hotel complex and this was our destination for the two nights. Marian and Nicola had the home comforts of a spacious room with ensuite facilities and flat screen TV. The men had a small cramped room with no room to swing a cat, crammed with 3 bunk beds, between which there was standing room only, perhaps more suited to Emperor penguins than elderly IVC/YHA members. It was my first experience of a YHA for about 30 years: I was to witness the trials of communal sleeping!
After dinner we attracted the attention of the young YHA members as we enthusiastically and excitedly played table football and pool in the communal bar. Nicola and Ken were the true stars, outplaying all at table football. At pool, Granville exclaimed: "This cue is a bit bent", as he succeeded in potting the next yellow, after asking for guidance from Nicola, whom he addressed repeatedly as "Captain".
Time for bed, and off we went to our rooms. Confined space for the men, and lots of snoring, which kept me awake all night. I am not going to point any fingers, since that would not be discreet, but the snoring noises progressively got louder and louder. A true concerto from the IVC snoring ensemble, which was a major point of discussion at the next day's breakfast.
After breakfast we headed to Electric Mountain: Mynydd Gwefru, Llanberis, to see how our electricity is generated. Fascinating. It is a pumped storage station.
The water is released from a top level lake down through the mountain at high pressure, thus driving turbines and generating electricity on demand. Its response rate from stand-by is 10 seconds, in order to be able to meet our demand for electricity when we all switch the kettle on after Eastenders, the World Cup, or dare I say, X-Factor. We assume the electricity will be there to meet this demand: Electric Mountain guarantees it is. And then, from the catchment lake at the bottom, the water is pumped all the way back up again. Ask one of us how it works; I am sure Ken will be keen to explain it to you. He was in his element in the midst of turbines, generators, hydraulics etc.
After the visit, we enjoyed refreshments, including ice-cream for some. Marion requested in Oliver Twist manner more ice-cream from the assistant, complaining that she had been given a small portion with holes in it!
On the way to Electric Mountain, we had dropped off our intrepid adventurer, Nicola, at one of the mountain passes, for her to be able to make her ascent on Snowdon.
As well as visiting Electric Mountain, the rest of us drove on through the mountain passes of Snowdonia to the coastal setting of Portmeirion, an idyllic Mediterranean-looking village in a natural cliff top setting. It was built by its founder, Clough Williams-Ellis. He started it in 1925 and devoted his life to it, putting together an eclectic mixture of buildings, statues, pathways, trees and plants; an eye-watering juxtaposition of novelty architecture in a serene, idyllic landscape.
Our guide referred to Portmeirion as the "home for fallen buildings and architectural relics": quite apt as a visiting spot for an elderly group of IVC members!
We were in good company though. Historically it was frequented by Noel Coward, Brian Epstein and George Harrison; and presently it is a favourite haunt of Jules Holland.
Portmeirion had been the setting for the cult 60s series The Prisoner, starring Patrick McGoohan, as No.6, a former government agent. (We did not have a No. 6 in our convoy).
On resigning from active service, Agent No. 6 woke up to find himself a prisoner in a lovely village with beautiful weather all the time, well-behaved citizens, but guarded by the mysterious "Rover" to prevent any escape. His captors held him prisoner to try to find out why he gave up his job so abruptly, suspecting some ulterior motive. He was not referred to by name, only by number.
In his unwillingness to submit, Agent No. 6 exclaimed repeatedly: "I am not a number, I am a free man!", a slogan which appeared on many of the T-shirts in the Prisoner gift shop.
We managed to escape the clutch of Portmeirion and head back to our YHA accommodation for our second night. We were all too tired for a re-match of table football and pool, so simply went to the bar after dinner to enjoy cheap £2.00 a pint beer on special promotion. My excuse was that it would help me sleep!…
… On our final day we headed to the beautiful Bodnant Gardens, and fortunately were graced with fine weather and sunshine as we discovered the formal gardens, herbaceous borders, immaculate lawns and woodland paths. Roger explained that the head gardener there used to be called Mr Piddle. Perhaps he would have preferred to have had just a Number.
And finally time for home. I was able to catch up on some sleep in the back of No. 1 car. I dreamt I was an eternal prisoner in a cramped room in a YHA in Betws Y Coed, tortured through the nights by my fellow inmates constantly snoring. I woke up in the beautiful town of Huddersfield, with not so lovely weather, fortunately a free man and still remembering my name.
Nigel