Now Back Home In Britain I Had To......
After such an epic, five month long adventure, traveling through Europe and North Africa, I decided that I should become familiar with my own shores. The British Isles are a beautiful collection of islands and I knew nothing about them apart from what I had learnt in my history and geography classes at school. So, now back home in Britain I had to plan another trip.
My initial idea was to hitchhike and backpack up to and through Snowdonia and Anglesey, two gorgeous areas of North Wales. An area that always intrigued me…it was calling.
Having consulted maps and photographs of the area I decided to head straight into the mountains (and National Park) of Snowdonia. I wanted to camp on Mount Snowdon's slopes, and hike the beautiful valleys at my leisure and for my pleasure. So packing my rucksack, once again I set off. I ‘thumbed’ my way up to North Wales in the space of a day. It was an uneventful trip and eventually I found myself in the tiny village of Betws y Coed. Today, this little town is strangled by tourism. Forty years ago it was a small quiet town nestled around its park and hugging the banks of the river. When I arrived that afternoon, many years ago, the river was frothing and small waterfalls could be seen along its entire bank as it bubbled through town. That evening, tired and hungry, I checked into a rather tired bed and breakfast. I ate my bag of chips (saturated in vinegar), whilst standing on a stone bridge over the river, and slept well that night. I dreamt of adventures that awaited me.
The landlady of the B and B was talking quietly downstairs, but it was enough to lure me down to the dining room. Tired as the place was, it was filled with the smell of bacon and coffee….deeeeliciousss ! . She had taken my breakfast order, the previous evening and was busying herself in the kitchen. I was refreshed and hungry, so the breakfast was enjoyed immensely, as I chatted with her about the area. She gave me some wonderful tips on where to go and what to see and I'll be eternally grateful to her for the hospitality she showed me.
Outside, it was raining. A Welsh drizzle was hanging in the air, but I headed out. My pack weighed about eighty pounds and was a military style rucksack (backpack). In it were all the essentials of life and as I walked out of town and up the valley, my gas stove and tin cup were banging against each other joyfully. They reflected the mood that I was in and it was a happy sound.
My path was an easy one. I followed the road uphill and into the mountains. The river, pouring off the mountains and down the valley, was on my right hand side and it was in a state of flood. The fields that were all enclosed by ancient stone walls and shallow copses of trees were all underwater….but I didn’t care. The mountains were waiting and the valleys were calling….and I was in Wales…..
Future blogposts can be found at my new site.... http://seymourtravels.co.uk
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