Snowdonian explorations

I have started to notice a definite obsession in the general British media with regards to the war and Hitler. Normally I suspect this is something I would perhaps not notice, but due to my current status quo of visiting the UK with my significantly German other half, it is something that is definitely more noticeable. I’m not entirely clear why it is brought up quite so regularly, and Vera doesn’t actually mind of course, as this wasn’t really anything she had anything to do with, but it is, nonetheless, quite a strange phenomenon.

The war aside, we have spent a rather lovely couple of days in rural Wales. The setting of my parents house really is quite stunning, right on the bank of the Mawddach river estuary (Vera is having tremendous fun trying to pronounce Welsh place names), at a point where the tidal river estuary is nearly two miles wide. From the house we can see across the estuary and up into the might of Cader Idris, one of the highest mountains in the region, and a tremendously nice climb. We haven’t as yet climbed it admittedly, as currently my travelling companion and family are being gently eased into the walking lifestyle with a series of shorter, less strenuous walks, but it is on the list.

Our first trip out was up into the hills at the rear of the house, which take you up to an elevation of just around 1000ft, affording splendid views up the river estuary and of the whole Cardigan Bay area, starting with the sea side towns of Barmouth and Fairbourne. We even saw a steam train puffing across the bridge, further proof no doubt that the UK really is just a giant Harry Potter set. We bumped into a group of hikers, on the final day of a four day expedition, and gave them hope that they were nearly where they were going. Ice creams, i assured them, were just over the next hill.

We also wandered around the quaint village of Dolgellau, all grey stone houses with slate roofs, and chomped down on a honeycomb and clotted cream icecream, roundly concluded by all to be tip top. At any moment, I suspect, my life will turn into an Enid Blyton novel. Lashings of Ginger Beer will soon be consumed. Maybe even bread with honey.

The rest of the week has further walks planned. Today is a day of rest due to various blisters needing healing (well, a pub trip is planned in for lunch), but I have hopes that should the weather continue to not rain, then Cader will be conquered. Possibly even Snowdon, Wales’s highest mountain, and one that I have never actually got round to climbing. And, if all goes well, a final send off before I return to Germany will take place, in the form of a large bonfire in the garden. Pyromania all round.