The family / Abersoch
We are staying on an estate, with views over the Pwllheli bay from an up stairs sitting room. The main house to our right, sheep are all around, and a short 1k walk via footpath across a delightful swamp and slate bridge, beside a golf course to the sea.
With Kevin’s family coming to dinner a spot of extra shopping was necessary, and we found solution to suit all their idiosyncratic diets – two sides of salmon. Icecream in A, a delightful village 5k down the beach from us.
So interesting to witness a family in operation. I’d met Kevin’s mother only once before and briefly. I’d forgotten her backstory. Irish, one of 6 or 7 siblings, her mother dead when she was 13(?) and being the eldest, she left home at 16 to escape the potential family chain around her life. She landed Isle of Wight, where she met Kevin’s dad, not a good man, although his father was a fine man. How old was she when she had Kevin? I forget. I watched as she and Kevin spoke so easily together. Kevins’ step dad, son Francis, and his 4 year girl friend, Lucy and I and dogs, walked down to the sea. They love the dogs, play stick or ball with them. They are the reason we are here, for Francis and Lucy are both studying at Bangor University, Francis Human Geography, and Lucy, Woodland conservation (that took me by surprise!)
I must have felt an urge to explore, so asked the question, what would you do to ‘solve the problem of immigration, rather than Rwanda’ Each gave their answer to this thought experiment, a mix of the Australian points system for legal and sort out at the source country for illegal.
At the end Lucy asked me do you write letters? I can write to you, she said. I hope they come and stay in the wood when they return east in the summer.
Day 3 Beach Bar, hair pin bends
Morning walk along our empty beach. At the end two work men arrived, who i asked a question of. ‘We’re with the electric company checking pylons’ ‘Not many here!’ We talked dogs. One had a Facebook one like Brow, forever escaping and getting bad press. The other turned out was an ex woodsman, so we looked at the wood washed up on the beech, and I recognised the bootlaces of Honey Fungus, so we talked mycellium unexpectedly. He made tinctures out of birch poly-pore, turkey tale and lions mane, and both had been taking a bit every day and neither had had a cold or illness for over 2 years, and both felt empowered and better for it. ‘You can find the recipe on internet.
We drove as far as we could (to the golf course) to get to Tŷ Coch Inn, the famous beach bar. Kevin and Gill walked the 1 k walk down the track. Families playing on the beach, young people. Bobji and Brow finding kids to play with, Kali tied up. I a bit restless between. A taxi to take Kevin and Gill back did not charge them.
We were too late for the slate town further down the north coast, but enjoyed the challenge of the hairpin bends.
Day 4 Long walk to Llanbedrog
Another glorious day. With a vague desire to walk to Abersoch, dogs and I stopped at Llanbedrog, finding a breakfast beach bar which was too tempting (sausages for dogs). One arriving said: I recognise those dogs from yesterday playing on the beach’ .
Up the road discovered Plas Glyn y Weddw Gallery, and an uplifting story of the community taking back ownership of a house once a gallery. Inspiring art within it, as well as some fine pottery. Back at base, I drove Gill back to explore, she was very tempted by a 500 quid art! She has a good eye.
Gill: When I lived in Uganda I ate a surfeit of Avodados and haven’t been able to eat one since.
Day 5 Rain
At last, a day of rain. Time to read a book (after catching up emails). I’m listening to a remarkable audible book called Endless Forms: a secrete world of wasps (thanks to recommendation of Berenice) Such bad press, wasps get, especially compared to honey flower loving bees. All bees were once wasps. An ant was a wasp without wings. And wasps are remarkably essential.(dogs are a bit bored)
Gill took us out to dinner in A – the sexy looking Zinc. We will enjoy writing out critic of the food, but the evening was about conversation. Stories from our past, our lovers mainly. What was his name? He was part of a band, Wham that’s it. Yes, Deon. Did you know he was married. Oh dear. And dead? My age. A good man. Gill with her Libyan Ambassador who could not liaise with a westerner.
Day 5 Mountain Spirit
We must look an eccentric triangle: Kevin’s large ungainly frame (CP), Gill, elegant nimble (90 year) movements, with lines such as when I was in Uganda, and me with 3 collie dogs. Today a train up through an old oak woodland (Tan-y-Bwlch) I wanted to visit, to a down at heal ex slate mining village Blaenau. From Portmadog station, on the west highland railway.
Neither Gill nor I would have ever taken this train, Kevin inspired. He’d been here 25+ years ago, as a teenager part of forest camp, walking camping these parts. With some emotion he recognised the road he walked up to Portmadog along our railway.
Usual welcome at Portmadog, with a place for us to park, dogs safe in van. The steam train immaculate, polished, engineering made last year (we’ve been making trains over 3 centuries), pulled our small carriages along the narrow guage, slanting slate rock, moss, fern inches from us, sometimes above tree line, twisted still ochre oaks, verdant sap green beech and birch, following the mountain side, beside a river system, passed a hydro dam, in the distance an old nuclear power plant (huge) now used to sterilise hospital equipment, out to our destination, a once thriving slate mining town. (‘The roof of the world). While Kevin absorbed the atmosphere in the towns hotel, Gill and I walked the street. ‘You’d have to be hard core to live up here’, concluded Kevin.
Our guard, turned out to be a volunteer. ‘I’m going to start the training soon’, he said. ‘You’ll be a fine. You have wonderful smiling eyes’ (‘That’s made my day, he said)
We were an eccentric group, 3 people, 3 dogs: Kevin with his large frame, unsteady gait (CP), Gill elegantly dressed, the only one who knew how to pronounce Pwllheli, game to fit into any adventure (aged 90!) with conversations beginning ‘When I was in Uganda’ and I with 3 boarder collies, mostly on a lead. We travelled well together, each complementing, and curious. We could do it again.
Francis and Lucy came for the last night, Gill and I cooked chicken and acked up the house. I somewhat restless last night in single bed beside Gill, with Brow deciding to sleep with Gill on her bed! Left Pwllheli after a last glorious walk on an empty beach.
Gill’s photos
Kalikellett 