Day 25 - Dinas Mawddwy to Bala

This was the day I was most apprehensive of in the whole trip. I had a long walk with some very steep climbing involved and all to do by 3pm, for reasons that I shall explain.

I went for breakfast as soon as the inn started serving it, at 8am sharp. On a “When in Rome” spur of the moment I shunned the more normal offerings for a “Welsh Breakfast” consisting of cockles on laverbread, as George Burrows dined on several times during his travels here. It was an experience that I’m glad I tried although never want to repeat. They were doused in a cider rarebit sauce which was quite delicious, especially with the laverbread, but there must have been a whole jar of cockles in there and it was all a bit too cockley!

Back on the road once again and here is my dad’s journal to guide me:

All too easy, though the post office office was closed today so no lunch for me from there. I also spotted Gwesty’r Llew Coch (The Red Lion) pub, with the name and all the signs in Welsh only. I haven't passed many places with no English at all yet.

This was a lovely walk up quiet lanes, the silence only occasionally interrupted by the violent noises of military aircraft flying overhead. Landmawddwy is a sweet little village. I tried to visit the church but it’s sadly closed down awaiting an undecided fate.

It was certainly scenic but this was an absolute bugger of a climb. I was completely broken by the time I reached the top at Bwlch-y-Groes, which is little more than a car park with good views. The road may have been improved since 1932 and cars have come a long way but it’s still a hairy road to drive up and as for the cyclist I saw clutching her water bottle and catching her breath at the top, I hope the way down was worth it! It’s a great little road though, highly recommended for a drive up but if walking I’d climb one of the mountain footpaths nearby rather than walking on the road itself.

I had a real debate as to which hill he had climbed as there are 2 named summits to the East, close to the road, one slightly before and one slighty after the top of the pass. There was a small unnamed hillock near the car park and on climbing it I caught a glimpse of said lake so realised that must’ve been the one he meant. Also I know my dad well enough to know that he’d have had the OS map with him and would’ve named the hill if it had a name! Here’s the small hill (the rise to the right, not the larger round hill behind it), the distant view of Llyn Efyrnwy (it really is only a glimpse) and the views over the wild moors. I can imagine it must be especially wild in the mist but today was scortchingly hot.

Tan-y-Bwlch can just be seen in the distance on this first pic.

Just about where that last pic was taken I spotted something wonderful by the road. A family of shrews all scuttling about, and two of them either playing, grooming each other, fighting or doing some kind of mating ritual. Shrews are common but I've hardly ever seen one, and this lot were so unfazed by my presence that I was able to get right up to within a foot of them and film their playing. It was utterly adorable. At one point a large chemical lorry came trundling past and I was sure they'd be scared off but they didn't even budge! They were tiny - about an inch and a half long, and had the sweetest little faces. I took some great video which I'll upload later (I can't upload any video right now but I've got lots to add to the blog later).

And now things get interesting… here is how my dad reached the town of Bala.

Now in trying to following his footsteps here one encounters a problem in that it’s no longer possible to walk down this particular section of the old Barmouth - Ruabon railway. Not because it’s been built over or closed to the public or anything. Far from it. It has in fact been reopened as a narrow guage steam train that runs the length of the lake. And as dad was, of course, a lover of railways, and as I’m following his exact path, there was only one thing for it…

As I waited for the train, one of the new Hercules planes flown by the British military flew overhead.

I’d forgotten just how lovely coal smoke smells when puffing out of a steam engine, it having been decades since I last boarded one. The journey was an idyllic slow puff along the lakeside (sadly I did did not get to drive the train any further!), stopping at a station mid-way where people were swimming in the clear waters. Were it not the last train of the day I’d have got off, jumped in the lake for a swim and caught a later train home.

Nearer the town of Bala at the far end I saw the happy sight of lots of small boats and shortly thereafter we pulled into the station to lots of awaiting spectators.

At this point my dad went to his hostel, and I went to mine, as the YHA is no longer open there. (Though I’ll visit his tomorrow).

Mine was Bala Backpackers, set in a small square by the church and run by a charismatic lady named Stella.

I dropped my things and went into the town. I was looking for something to eat but caught sign of a sign saying “Welsh Craft Beers” and shortly found myself in a great little place called Stori with a tasting paddle of three local beers in front of me! The owner was a lovely lady who was very suplortive of my trip and I also met and had a long chat with a couple named Pete and Fran from Silchester who were going on as many Welsh steam trains as possible (and there are plenty of them to choose from!)..

After this I went for a delicious curry at the Indian restaurant next door. At one point a lady came in and asked if the food was any good. “Best Indian in Bala” I replied, though I’m not sure if she picked up the irony.

I’d like to have stayed out but at this point I hit a wall of tiredness and went back to the hostel for a short nap (it was only about 8.30pm). I must've needed it as I didn't leave my bed until the next morning!