Well, I have made it to Wales. It was a close thing. I woke up on time but left late, of course, and made it to Bristol Parkway in time to print my tickets... I got to the platform and then realised I had forgotten to print my RETURN tickets, and as I did not wish to be stranded in Flint, I had to go back. The turnstile attendants were amused at my running back and forth, but I made it back to the platform before the train doors closed.
From Bristol Parkway I rode to Birmingham New Street and then back another direction to Stafford, where I switched to a train to Crewe. From Crewe I travelled to Chester, and from Chester I rode to Flint, the final destination, where we arrived on time at twenty minutes to twelve.
I paused to collect a sandwich at a shop in town, and then began my three-mile hike to Pentre Halkyn, and the hotel where I’m spending the night. It was a lovely walk past blooming gardens and open fields with some stunning views* back over the bay. I stopped at the top of a hill and had a conversation with some sheep on a hill. I don’t know what I said, but they seemed excited about it.
My 12:30 I was regretting having packed my laptop into my backpack. There’s something about lugging that and a rolling suitcase up and down a series of hills that makes everything feel heavier. Still, the scenery was lovely, and the air was fresh. By 12:55, My shoulders had begun to ache in earnest, and I was wishing I’d learned how to Apparate. Then it began to sprinkle. Fortunately, I sighted a town just a couple of hills away, so I carried on and arrived, breathless and slightly muddy, at the Springfield Hotel.
The hotel is a converted country estate, and after staying so many hostels, I appreciate the level of comfort. Clean, comfortable, well-decorated, stocked with instant coffee and an electric kettle, and I have a private, fully-functioning bath. Oh yes. (I’m not kidding though, I’ve only been here about ten minutes and I’m ready to recommend it to anyone.)
It’s now raining lightly but steadily. I intend to put on my new wellies and have a hike on to Ysceifiog for some sightseeing. Here goes!
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So it turns out that Google directions doesn’t warn you about things like hills. Wales, as it turns out, is mostly hills. The road I took out of Pentre Halkyn went up and away from the village, allowing me a beautiful view of what I’d walked all morning. Ahead of me were several steep hills and lots and lots of sheep. Many of them were kind of wandering free, their backs marked with spray paint. All the new lambs were bleating plaintively and chasing their bored-looking mothers about. Not far from the village centre is a quarry, and many of the vehicles on the road appeared to be quarry trucks, with some farm vehicles thrown in for variety.
I conquered a minor snafu with my directions, but then the rain began... Fortunately, I had both wellies and umbrella, so on I trudged. And on and on. I had nearly made it to the turn-off to Ysceifiog when a car full of geologists pulled up and offered me a lift into the village (They’d seen me by the quarry, which they’d been out to explore) and dropped me at St. Mary’s, the largest village landmark.
Seeing as Ysceifiog is only about three blocks big, from St. Mary's it wasn’t long until I was out of Ysceifiog and out along the northern road, winding through the countryside. The rain picked up again as I followed this road down a steep hill and up yet another, but the worst of the rain passed as I was under some trees, which was good. Eventually I wandered into nice weather, at which point I turned around and followed it for a while. The hills, which had been misty before, cleared up and shone a brilliant green in the sunlight. At the crest of the most recent hill I briefly explored a footpath next to a sheep field where there were a couple of little black lambs running around. They were precious!
The rain picked up again so I continued into the trees back down the hill and explored another footpath running alongside the stream. There were some interesting stone foundations alongside the creek, which dad suggests could be from a mill or something similar. The climb back up the ridiculously steep hill was taxing, but didn’t deter me from another wander through Ysceifiog.
The returning trek to the hotel was an adventure: in trying to get back to Pentre Halkyn, I took a wrong turn and went a few miles out of my way... then it was back up and down past the Pentre Quarry and finally back to the Hotel, where I collapsed. Walking twenty miles really takes it out of ya! After some room service and a bubble bath, however, I feel quite refreshed. Tomorrow I intend to read up on these villages at the local library – we’ll see how that goes. Then it’s home again, home again, for revision and some final coursework. Woo!
*Pictures to follow. I forgot my camera cable.
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