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Travel StoriesCamping At Bala Lake 2015
Wandering Home
By Ren Withnell
I sleep remarkably well. I did need to get up in the middle of the night and wrestle with the sleeping bag and the tent to escape for another pee but other than that I was warm and comfortable. I can only assume the gf feels the same as she lies there deep in the land of nod next to me. That said I am pleasantly surprised as I stir and rustle around that she awakes without the usual cursing, grumbling and bad attitude she has to the whole concept of not being asleep. I am slightly worried by this, perhaps she's not well.
Before long the sound of zips and rude greetings indicate the other lads are waking too. There is much stretching, accusations of being the loudest snorer of the night and questions about what's for breakfast. There's no signs of serious hangovers so I dare say they had about the right amount to drink last night. Tipsy, not legless. After the morning ablutions we are all starting to pack. Time to go home.
No, I don't fancy wading in Lake Bala this morning thank you.
The lads are planning another blast along the delectable Welsh roads, the gf and I have other plans. We have all day to make our return journey so we agree a little detour may be in order. With that we part company with the lads giving a jolly wave as they continue to denigrate each other. We're heading in the wrong direction, we're heading to Dolgellau in search of food and a hot cup of tea.
I'm sure I must have been to Dolgellau at some point in my life but certainly not recently. It's one of those places that's bypassed by a major road so I've always passed it by rather than been in. Shame really, it's a small town and the centre at least is not spoiled by any major supermarkets or retail parks. There is a one way system but not on the city scale, it allows the light traffic to get through it rather than get stuck in it. It does confuse me a little though and it takes a few attempts before I find a place to park next to what looks like a suitable cafe.
Dolgellau brings breakfast to our bellies.
Uh-huh, this is what we are looking for. It's the best part of a greasy spoon, fair prices and good portions, with the best part of tourist cafe, clean and pleasant surroundings. The Crasdyr Gader cafe fills our bellies with English (Welsh?) breakfast and free refills of hot tea. It's quiet this morning so the lady behind the counter has time to talk to us about our trip and suggests that Harlech castle might be worth a look even though as a local she knows little of it.
Back out on the road I lead us without any purpose or direction. I was in Barmouth last year and I like the seaside, I'll take the gf there. There's a handful of bikes parked along the harbour wall so we park alongside them. I'm sure we've never been here together before and I'm feeling rather pleased that I've introduced the gf to yet another of this fair isle's seaside resorts. She promptly informs me we've been here before. I trawl my memories and look around. Hmmm. Maybe it was...erm...yeah and the harbour...when...erm...there is...there is a memory. Damn and blast, she's probably right. I hate it when she's right.
Barmouth looks a little grey on this grey day.
So we have been here before. Ha, yeah, but she's never ridden her own bike here before has she, ha, yeah. After a brief rest and pee break we crack on again. For some reason the Barmouth lifeboat is on the sandy beach surrounded by lifeguards and various other people. I don't know why, I want to know why, but not enough to park up and go and ask. We carry on towards Harlech instead.
Stuck...or parked? I'm sure they know what they're doing.
There are some impressive views across a long sandy bay, we look down from above to a beach that seems to have no means of access. We pass through some small hamlets and pretty villages. I can see Shell Island and the runway down towards the coast. The weather is light grey again today with a stiff breeze coming in off the sea. It's not uncomfortable but it's not glorious either. I recall being here in the sun and in the rain. As I ride I decide the weather makes all the difference to a place and my feelings about a place. Harlech's coming into view, let's find the castle.
There's a sign, I follow that, the gf's still behind me. Oooh, steep hill! I can't see the castle. Ah, there it is. In my head I had a vision of big signs leading a large car park, a couple of attendants in florescent jackets, maybe a barrier. Then there would be a ticket office and a tat shop. We'd decide it's too expensive to go into the castle, instead we'd have another brew in the cafe.
In fact only parts of the castle can be spotted behind tightly packed houses and shops on a narrow street and nothing more. No more signs, no parking options, no guidance for the befuddled tourist and no hope. I pull into a side road to collect my thoughts, rethink the situation and ask the gf what her feelings on the matter are.
This side road must rate as one of the steepest roads in the UK. Nervously and tentatively I head down, because the idea of turning around in this narrow gulley is impossible. The gf will be cursing me, my ears are already on fire. Hot damn! I gingerly and carefully come to a halt in the mouth of a driveway, the gf does the same. She is, well - unimpressed doesn't seem to really cover it. Furious would be excessive but displeased is not strong enough, somewhere in between. I suggest that perhaps I don't know where this road goes, if it gets any steeper or if it ends in a cliff. Prudence suggests we turn around but that will be difficult. We make use of the driveway, rather rudely and to our embarrassment, to get the bikes pointing uphill. With a furious throttle we claw our way out of the trap. We are in fact right next to the castle but we see nothing, we're focused on getting up the hill.
So that was - not - Harlech Castle. If we are to return one day and actually take in it's impressive walls and learn of it's history then I must ensure to have a properly and well thought out plan. Google maps, street view, parking arrangements and an understanding of where I am going will be required for a successful visit. That is not happening today. We're just glad to be off the steep street. Onwards to Porthmadog and another cup of tea.
I'm just meandering in the general direction of home now. Through the mountains and the valleys, between stone walls and wire fences, past fattening lambs and farmhouses. It is cool today. Not bitingly chilly but I'm thankful for having my quilted lumberjack shirt on and those occasionally dark clouds make me wonder when it will be time to get the waterproofs on. Then of course the sun pops out and I need my sunglasses. British Weather, as moody as any teenager.
Caernarfon provides another reason to stop and then get stuck in the one way system around the castle. These massive castles were built to subjugate the Welsh in medieval times, the size of the castle is testimony to how much the Welsh did not wish to be subjugated. They may have lost their independence but the Welsh will have their revenge be it via devolution or by trapping English tourists in their narrow lanes and holding them to ransom. Caernarfon harbour and the town is a pleasant enough place to be trapped in though.
At least I can manage to get to Caernarfon Castle. I still get us lost though.
Time is marching on now and the A55 will take us swiftly back to England and home. There's about 70 miles of long dual carriageway between us and the far side of Chester. At a cruising speed of 50 to 55 mph on our modestly proportioned motorcycles we are for the most part the slowest vehicles on this road. Whether it's our luggage and hi-viz jackets or our solid confident road position we find we are treated with respect and given space by nearly every driver. There will always be one though and it's usually an executive who believes his German auto-mobile has right of way in any circumstance. There's no point in stressing.
It has been a good weekend. I had some reservations about the gf and I joining 4 lads on what was essentially a boys night away. While their banter is coarse and their teasing relentless I can tell they're good friends, anyone else would have thrown their toys out of the pram under such a savage attack. I don't know how they did it but the gf and I never felt like we were intruding which I thought we would. Wales didn't greet us with glorious warm sun like it did 2 weeks ago but then it did not drench us either. I've had the welcome chance to circumnavigate Lake Bala and get to know Dolgellau. The gf seems to be getting to grips with the concept of navigation if not the precise mastery of it just yet. That said I haven't mastered Harlech Castle, I really must properly plan a successful visit one day.
No...I don't know what she's doing either.
Sharon Leads To Bala
Sharon leads Ren (sort of) through North Wales and to Bala. We meet with the cheeky chappies for an evening of nonsense.
Wandering Home
Sharon and Ren's ride back home from Bala includes tea at Dolgellau, going to places we've already been and an unsuccessful attack on Harlech Castle.
Reader's Comments
Sharon. said :-
That road down to the castle was terrifying. My heart was banging and I really thought the bike would just flip over it was so steep. I thought if I make any mistake here at all then that is me and the bike hurtling to the bottom in a crumpled heap. Then to have to turn around at the bottom and have do the steepest hill start ever to escape ... phew makes me laugh now but at the time I could have so easily have cried :-D
01/01/2000 00:00:00 UTC
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Travel StoriesCamping At Bala Lake 2015