Beddgelert 2011 - Caernarfon Castle By Bus

It's my birthday today.  40.  I don't feel any different, I didn't wake up this morning feeling like an old man, somehow I expected I would, I thought I'd look in the mirror and see a balding middle aged man looking back at me.  I look the same.  I still look like an ageing biker who needs a haircut and a shave.  Oh well.  Another sign of getting older is I'm no longer excited about my birthday, it's just another day.  The good thing is it's just another day but I'm waking up in a beautiful village in a comfy cottage and the gf's in a good mood this morning.  It's not all bad this getting old thing is it.

After the usual morning ablutions we breakfast on toast and jam and prepare for a day out.  My Dad had suggested we visit Caernarfon Castle, somewhere I can't recall having been to before and it should hopefully pass the day in an interesting manner.  Now the trouble with bikes when visiting places is this.  The gf and I refuse, even on the warmest of days, to ride without proper and suitable protection.  That’s jacket, bike pants, boots, gloves and helmet.  That’s just fine, until of course you reach your destination.  Then you're faced with walking around with your helmet and gloves in your hands and sweating profusely in the warm bike gear.  You can remove the bike gear but carrying all this is a real bind and just makes what should be a pleasant day out a chore and a pain.  

Being a wise and now old fool, I'm all to aware of this issue and how it spoils things not only for the gf but for myself too.  So I have prepared, another sign of getting old.  I've researched the interweb thingy and learnt there are indeed buses from Beddgelert to Caernarfon, perfect.  We decide Saturday would be the best day as there are likely to be more buses.  Of course I'm perfectly ready 5 minutes after breakfast.  The gf on the other hand is doing all the girly things, another sign of getting older is that I've learnt not to wonder what all these girly things are, but to accept they take time and cannot be rushed.  Luckily this cottage has an ace up it's sleeve, a collection of "Bike" magazines from 2009 and 2010 on a shelf on the landing.  How lucky is that!  I don't know if these were placed especially for me or if they're just left there by chance.  I learn all about bikes I still can't afford to buy but the waiting passes easily.

The walk to the bust stop takes less than 5 minutes.  Beddgelert is shimmering in Autumn sun and although a jumper is still required it is pleasant and comfortably warm.  A look at the timetable suggests there are only 4 buses each day!  Luckily the next one is due at 1124, that's only 25 minutes off.  We wander for 10 minutes then sit on a bench for another 10, then wait at the stop till a red bus collects 2 strangers, the gf and myself.  £3.50 for a return ticket is acceptable and we take our seats.  The bus flies along the narrow country roads, terrified car drivers veer towards ditches and walls and cyclists wobble as we whizz by.  

Beddgelert resplendant in the sunshine.

Somehow I end up talking to the 2 strangers who we got on the bus with.  This couple of walking types, slightly older than I, are going to Caernarfon to catch the Welsh Highland Railway back into Beddgelert.  My Dad and a friend both suggested I should do this too but at £14 per person it seems a little steep, especially when the gf has no interest in trains of any kind except the one that takes her to shopping central.  I  notice the man looking out the window and wincing as we squeeze another poor motorist into a barb wire fence.

The once empty bus is now almost full as we approach Caernarfon.  My Dad did tell me that Caernarfon was a run-down place and as we approach the bus terminal there's nothing to alter that opinion, just a scruffy couple of stands behind a dirty car park and the loading bay for an Iceland shop.  We get off and walk a short way into the shopping area and my opinion lifts somewhat.  It's not at all beautiful like Beddgelert but it's clean, open and smart enough.  A few moments later the castle comes into view and I can see Caernarfon is only a small town with a very large castle right in its centre.  

The scruffy bus stop at Caernarfon.  The town itself is much nicer.

We meander a little down some side streets, take time to take pictures of the small harbour and make phone calls to our respective relatives now we have mobile phone service again.  I'm concerned that the buses are few and far between, I'm also concerned that at Beddgelert there were only 4 buses listed for the day, yet at the stand there were 8 or 9, confusing.  We find the Tourist information Office and I express my concerns to the baffled lady behind the counter.  Her timetables confirm there are indeed more buses listed LEAVING Caernarfon for Beddgelert so I keep a timetable and we go to the castle.

Caernarfon town centre is actually quite nice, unlike the bus stop.

It costs £5.25 each to get into the castle.  Not bad I guess.  Not bad at all when we get inside and see just how complete the castle is.  Normally you get some random piles of rubble with information boards showing what it may have looked like in its heyday.  Here the castle is almost complete save for roofs and home comforts.  Also access to the castle is complete, we wander down narrow passages in the walls, up and down spiral staircases into towers and buttresses, into random dead end dark corners and through bewildering defenses.  Within one tower is a large museum built into the confusion of spaces that commemorates the Royal Welch Fusiliers.  It takes more than 2 hours before we leave the castle and still I daresay we've hardly seen half of it, very impressive.  

Caernarfon is quite complete and there's an awful lot to see.  Worth the effort.

We walk a little more around the town and find a chippy for some late lunch.  It's getting on now and there should...hopefully...be a bus in 3/4 of an hour.  Before we catch the bus we do some more shopping in Iceland then sit a while by a small fountain in the square.  Later at the scruffy bus stop I'm still confused by the contradicting bus timetables so I'm greatly relieved when I see the "S4" bus arrive.  We hop on board and the bus fills up with mostly Welsh shoppers returning home.  The Welsh language is completely alien to me but every now and then I hear English words and I wonder how it all works and how its all put together.  The return journey is much more leisurely than the outward trip and I talk to the gf as we watch the scenery become more angular and dramatic.

Back at the cottage we chill out.  I'm happily reading more "Bike" magazines with the TV on in the background.  To be honest I don't know what the gf's doing but she's busily doing it anyhow.  I light the fire, this time with much more success and as it starts to go dark we go out to get the pizza we missed out on last night.  I like the look of the "Snowdonian" pizza, although I can's see what a spicy pizza has to do with a big mountain...marketing I guess.  Back at the cottage I devour the pizza with glee, the gf's struggling a little, it's a bit too spicy for her.  We watch Kevin on Grand Designs doing the usual loving, hating then loving whatever's being built whilst the gf and I longingly discuss our own perfect dwellings and what we would do differently.  At bedtime the gf spoils me something rotten, but I won't say how.

Quite a birthday I think. 

Reader's Comments

Post Your Comment Posts/Links Rules