Day 28 - Llangollen to Wrexham
Almost time to leave Llangollen already but 2 places left to see… the first is Plas Newydd.
And what an incredible place it turned out to be. The outside was covered in scaffolding and the grounds are lovely but it’s all about the interior… it takes carved wooden gnarlyness to the extreme. Had to be seen to be believed, the photos don't do it justice.
Next was the former hostel itself, Tyn-Dwr-Hall. On the way I walked along lovely country lanes, and passed Pengwern Hall, mentioned by George Burrow. Later I chatted to a man sat on a bench with an exciteable 9-month old springer spaniel, for whom I threw some sticks. He directed me to Tyn-Dwr.
And what a place it is! It’s now a wedding venue although there were no weddings happening today but a very pretty girl who worked there greeted me and let me look around the outside and sneak my head in the front door. I laughed with her that it certainly didn't cost 30p a night to stay there anymore! It’s hard to believe it was ever a youth hostel!
I set out alone along the footpath, past an unusually situated old phone box and then a very overgrown and narrow path which came out right by the same man with his dog who was still there chatting to a friend of his.
I climbed up a steep hill into the plantation, but missed a turning and ended up not on the lower down path that my dad took but on a higher one that followed a hilltop ridge. I didn't mind however as the views were great.
I followed this for some time before cutting through a field and beginning the descent towards Pontcysyllte. On the way down I passed a lovely row of cottages with incredible views and talked to a lady there who said she’d loved living there and was sad to be moving after 30 years but her husband had recently died and she needed a change.
What can I say? It’s a hell of an aqueduct! What vision to even conceive of building it. Passing anyone else on the narrow towpath is a hair-raising experience!
Trevor (above) is a nice little place... Acrefair however is still a complete dive. The Monsanto works closed in 2010, leaving a huge contaminated wasteground that the local community is still unsure what to do with as it will cost tens of millions of pounds to decontaminate. Currently all they can do is seal it off and just leave it indefintely as an enormous eyesore. No surprise that Monsanto, one of the most appaling and despicable companies on the face of the planet, don't care one bit for the communities they destroy.
I walked along a long and boring road, passed the estate (I think he meant Plas Madoc not Merion) and a small smattering of countryside.
Just as I was nearing Ruabon I had a look on the OS map and spotted an unexpected old friend that I was just about to walk straight past… none other than Offa’s Dyke. I hadn’t realised I would see it again! And even better I got to skip a short section of crappy roads to walk along a stretch of it, as it actually provided a shortcut to Ruabon station. The first bit ran through a strip of back gardens - it was unusual to see washing lines hanging up over a 1000 year old monument. I wonder if half of them even know what the big grassy slope at the back of their garden is! After that you can walk on the wall itself through a small wood, which was a lovely contrast to the concrete misery of the surrounding area.
My first impressions of Ruabon were positive, as I wales through the nice old village that sits higher up above the railway.
Then I got to the sorry sight of the train station, the actual station building of which was boarded up and for sale. The platforms were deserted and the place looked very run down. Atop the bridge I could see vast swathes of generic housing eststes.
Half of the footbridge itself was sealed off and derelict, but I realised that there was another story behind that, for I was in fact looking at yet another old friend, namely the Ruabon to Barmouth railway (not again!!). The platform is still lying there derelict with the bridge across it, the start of the branch line through many of the places I've been this week that was closed down by Beeching in the 60s along with so many others.
As I waited, a long goods train carrying concrete rumbled past pulled by an engine named “Good Old Boy”. And then my train arrived and within an uneventful half hour I too was in Wrexham.
My dad spend just a few hours in Wrexham and then 2 nights in Chester. I am spending 1 night in each instead as my brother Chris lives in Wrexham so I wanted to see him. He was awaiting me at the station and I jumped in his car and set off for a mini adventure! We stayed in a hotel there as he has folk staying at his place already so we checked in to the Wynnstay Arms then set off to find somewhere to have a drink and catch up.
We happened to bump into a couple of his good friends who were going to an open-mic folk music night, so we joined them at a local place and had a smashing evening. Chris got on stage too and performed some songs and poetry, and I met loads of sound folk there and heard lots of good music. Bravo, great night all round!
