Wales, why not?

For adventurous travelers who enjoy visiting a place off the beaten track, quiet, understated, thoroughly lovely, and classic Wales is a must. I am no sure what we were expecting but we are finding that Wales has everything: spectacular scenery, charming villlages, and tremendous sporting choices be it in the mountains or in the sea.

English is the primary language spoken here, but Welsh, an incomprehensible language to nearly everyone including the locals, is the native -“speak.” Since it is taught in elementary school, only young school children are fluent. Then, they say, as kids get older, Welsh language studies give way to geometry, algebra, and more complex subjects, and the old language is simply forgotten. Plus it is hard! Even the locals say Welsh is difficult to speak and even harder to understand. For example, “Wales” in Welsh is “Cymru” (kum-ree); and Trearddur Bai, where our apartment is located, is pronounced “Tree-a-thur Bay” and means treachery, especially for ships. The combination of consonants in Welsh creates sounds only the Welsh can make. Here are a few common Welsh phrases everyone should know:

Nos da – Good night

Diolch – Thank you

Sut wyt ti? – How are you?

Sheesh!!! And those are the simple ones.

It is mid-summer here; the high temps for the day are in the mid-60’s which feels quite warm to locals and visitors from England and Scotland, thoroughly accustomed to cold weather. English folk, particularly those from Manchester and Liverpool, flock here. Only a two- to three-hour drive away, Holy Island, Wales, is a quick getaway spot for a beachy weekend. We were in the area three days before we met the first Welsh native. All others were English folk in their swimming costumes, playing with their children, cooking sausages on the beach, and bravely frolicking in the icy waves.   Brrr!

The days are a dazzling, colorful spectacle with green hills adjacent to sheltered golden beaches below black volcanic stone cliffs, faults, and folds.  At night, we leave the windows open just an inch to let the cool night breezes rock us to sleep under wintertime bed covers like we used as children. We wake in the morning with a distinct but invigorating chill in the air.   The bravest of us (Stan, of course) closes the windows tight again before we clothe ourselves in long pants and sleeves.  As the day warms, it is off with the heavy stuff as we let the sunshine warm us.

The northern coast of Wales at Holyhead is rocky and steep. Walking paths along the coast and over the rocky mountains are many, and many pairs laden with backpacks take them. One such path begins near our apartment and follows the coast along the beach and over the mountain from the Southstack Lighthouse on Trearddur Bay to the old North Trust Quarry in Holyhead. The drive between the two spots is more than 10 miles, but the overland trail is only about 3.5 miles. It is an invitingly beautiful but treacherous trail on slippery sand, steep hills, and a rocky foot path.  Clumps of wildflowers and deeply colored heather line the way.  At sea level, when the tide is out, the shore is like a biology lab with a plethora of sealife, such as limpets, snails, mussels, and seaweeds to be examined lying in the clear tidal pools. Stan and I just keep saying, Wow! 

Just short drives away are other coastal towns we hope to check out. Today we visited Beaumaris — what a lovely name, Beaumaris — and Menai Bridge, two absolutely charming towns on the Straits of Menai, the body of water between the Isle of Anglesey and mainland Wales. Oh, as we found, the wind doth blow on this water between the two!

At Beaumaris, famous for its enchanting pastel-coloured houses and 13th century Beaumaris Castle, we watched as small 2-man sailboats raced each other along the strait, and then we counted crabs in buckets caught in nets by delighted children on the pier.

The town of Menai is only 10 minutes away. We went there because I read that Menai mussels are famous for being among the world’s cleanest, sweetest, and best. We had a bucket of them in a cream-laced white wine sauce for lunch, and, . . . they are!

Tomorrow we are going to the Viking Festival in Amwych to witness and partake in ancient Viking ax-fighting bouts, village-raiding, and farmland pillaging! And some carnival food!

We are happy here.  This, my friends, is like nowhere else on this earth.  And it is good.