wales – Corgi and a Cuppa Tea

Wales is exhilarating.

Our local guide is charming and knowledgeable with a great storyteller’s vibe. He mixes Welsh and English and gives us a “potted history” of the country peppered with side comments about how it has been portrayed in film. Note: I hadn’t heard of a “potted history” and thought it had to do with alcohol. It refers to a shortened version of the whole story. More than a summary, less than a chapter. I like my definition better.

Castle Conwy is well preserved by the National Trust and Unesco and it’s fascinating to walk where King Edward surveyed his perimeter. Lots of twists and turns and it must have been cold back in the day. We recognize the “ringed defense” architecture that we saw at Windsor and admire the defensible walls. The day is sunny and clear and it’s all very satisfying. We get the overview and a lot of history and then have time to explore. Les checks out the tower and I pick my away along the stone walls, leaning on my cane to stay upright. Fire knee is well braced and the cane is a necessity. I’m able to move about quite freely without pain so I’m a happy girl.

Conwy Castle – defended by fewer than 25 men

The vistas are marvelous and the site isn’t crowded and there are windy stone stairs and hidden chapels and a few unexpected sculptures. It is all good.

We scatter for lunch and Les and I decide on a tea room close to our next destination. The proprietor is on her own thanks to Covid and labor issues but she welcomes us in and feeds us in good time to make our next stop. Les and I try the Welsh Rarebit which is not what I thought it would be, but delicious nonetheless. (It’s a cheese sauce on brown toast. A bit soggy) We’re table sharing with a couple from our tour and they are slugging down massive milkshakes and cheese and pickle sandwiches. I’m maybe a bit envious.

Our next stop is the “Tudor House” which was, you guessed it, built in Tudor times by a gentleman who worked for the court and accepted a lot of coin for access to the people in power (okay, it wasn’t said quite like that, but that’s the gist). He also went to the continent for soldier duties and had seen the glories of Rome and Greece. When he retired to Wales, he built a substantial home for his sweetheart and eventual family. Alas, she died, but he found a new wife with the same initial (he had worked her initial into the decorative plaster walls) and it all worked out. The house was completed in 1577 or thereabouts.

It is airy and prosperous, lots of rooms, and I am quite taken with the plaster motifs and decorations. The owner really liked the caryatids in Rome and sketched out the general idea for his Welsh craftsmen. The result is a primitive homage. Paint choices take it up several notches and it’s a bit grotesque….a lot groteseque….but very lively. I take a number of pictures and hope that the owner lived a long and happy life.

TBH these were shocking at first sight, then I decided to be charmed

Check out the Welsh Baker to try these in the U.S.

After the tour we pause at a local bakery where I snag a few Welsh Cakes – there’s a place in Southern California that bakes and sells them and I want to compare. I also grab an “Eccles cake” because I’ve never had one.

The evening is capped with a concert by a talented Welsh harpist who entertains with a wide range of medieval songs, classical tunes and jazz. Our guide cajoles us into buying her CDs and we are happy to oblige. Les mentions to her that her style reminds us of Rodrigo y Gabriela and she knows of them! She says she’s tried to blend their percussion into her more modern pieces and we part with the glow of mutual appreciation.

Wales rocks.

Undated but so beautiful; it certainly could be a Tudor era embroidery

Back at the hotel….the most elegant set up

Food on the road is very inflammatory and my joints are feeling it. Lots of bread and potatoes, tons of sweets, the milk that makes the tea palatable, the two sugars that do the same….my knees ache and the deep gnaw of arthritis has begun. Sigh.

Yesterday we boarded our motorcoach for a long trek to Wales. Our driver had been on the job six months and lacked confidence. I heard him muttering about Google maps and sent a brief prayer that we would arrive in grace and good health.

The bus was quiet as 22 seniors caught up on sleep.

I was out for about 90 minutes and then my body rebelled against constriction and I had to get that seatbelt off and I felt a bit queasy and and…I wriggled in my tight window seat searching for a comfortable position but was unsuccessful.

Fortunately I had listened to my inner voice and picked up an extra croissant at breakfast. That distracted me and helped settle my stomach. A sip of water helped as well and then I tuned into the sad story of Tim the driver. He felt like he was doing a terrible job and not representing his company very well and perhaps he should just chuck it all. Our leader spoke to him in bracing terms, saying that the job would get easier and she was certain he’d get the hang of it. “Just project confidence” she told him. Tim was unconvinced.

A foreseen consequence of Brexit was that foreign workers found it difficult to get through the paperwork et al in order to stay employed in the UK. Covid drove many of them home and they weren’t flocking back. It’s fine to complain about “foreigners taking our jobs” but the locals aren’t picking up the slack. Restaurants are short staffed. Tube stations are shut down. Shops can’t stay open. The effects are everywhere.

Tim drops us off in Chester, which is an ancient town noted for its splendid cathedral and many historical sites. It is a walled city that served as a border town between the Brits and the Welsh. I’m a big fan of the Romans and I am thrilled to be in proximity of Roman Ruins – an ampitheater, some walls, a few mosaics. So much history! It is deeply satisfying.

The city is a blend of old and new. There are actual Tudor-era buildings and the town was a popular tourist destination during the Victorian era. The cathedral is vast and highly ornamented. The streets are a mixture of ancient and Victorian cobblestones. My eyes can’t settle but I know Les is capturing it all, from multiple angles and exposures.

There is a famous Chester clock atop the West Gate but another imposing clock has a humorous story. I am told that the square clock tower has three clock faces – one to Ireland, one to Scotland, one to Britain and none to Wales because “we don’t give them the time of day.”

We have a delightful ploughman’s lunch in a pub before exploring the cathedral interior. Then we find our group and tour bus and continue into Wales. Tim has been replaced by another, more confident driver and a new motorcoach. Adventures!!

Our hotel is on the water and it feels like a holiday beach town, with older and fancier buildings. After dinner, Les and I cross the street and enjoy the final moments of an outdoor concert. The sun is setting and the water sparkles – it’s beautiful and reminds me a bit of summer in Seattle. The evening lasts longer, the sun shimmers and bed is impossible. We trek along the bay and enjoy the fresh air and the snap of flags in the evening breeze. Wales is great!

Tag: wales

Day….I have no clue

Day 9/7 Chester