It is 5:24 pm on May 7th and I’m traveling on a direct train from York to London — backwards. Yes, I’ve been lucky enough to get a seat facing away from the direction in which I’m traveling. So instead of watching the landscape speed toward me and then pass in a FLASH, I’m watching everything receding… slowly, slowly, slowly. I don’t know what’s ahead. But I do know what’s just passed away. An apt metaphor for travel, I’d say.

So, Wales.

Continuing on…

I woke to a relaxed morning of late breakfast and knitting in the lobby. When your tour is go, go, go from the moment you wake up, it’s nice to have an occasional leisurely start. This was our day for a soft morning. Also, in every group of 12 – 20 people, there are those who arrive at breakfast right on time, ready for coffee and have probably already taken a morning walk. Then there are the ones who wander in at 5 minutes before breakfast is over, looking for information about whether they have time for food and can they take coffee to go. I’m usually in the first group, especially as the tour leader. However, since Colleen was our fearless leader for this tour, I got to hang with the late crowd. Fantastic! You mean I can come to breakfast at 8:54 am instead of 7 am on the dot? I’m all for it. I’m thinking about joining the late crowd for the rest of my tours this spring. Realistically though, it couldn’t possibly work. When I’m the lead guide, I prefer to be everywhere, all the time, ahead of everyone, ensuring that all things are happening as they should. So, maybe I won’t join the Late Kids Club. Fun to try it out though!

Those interested in the morning walk gathered for our foray to the somewhat famous Welsh landmark of Devil’s Bridge. I was tasked with leading the “short walk” and Colleen was leading another group on a “longer” walk. Last time I was given this task in the Lake District, it turned into a an extravaganza of pastureland crossings, way-finding by map, and huffing it up and down some minor Lake District elevation. So I was preparing myself and my craptastic ankles for a possibly longish walk of unknown distance. Surprise! We sauntered literally across Devil’s Bridge to the start our “short walk”. From there, it was a short, circular route of steep stairs to get down into the canyon and back up out of it. No sweat! And instead of me writing about Devil’s Bridge, I give you the Wikipedia text. Because I’m lazy — and distracted on this train — and I might get something wrong. But I will reward you with photos. Deal?

[Devil’s Bridge] is best known for the three bridges that span the Afon Mynach, a tributary of the Rheidol. The bridge is unique in that three separate bridges are coexistent, each one built upon the previous bridge. The previous structures were not demolished.^[3]

The river has been bridged since at least the 12th century, with a wooden bridge built c. 1075–1200. According to legend, it was built after an old woman lost her cow and saw it grazing on the other side of the river. The Devil appeared and agreed to build a bridge in return for the soul of the first living thing to cross it. When the bridge was finished, the old woman threw a crust of bread over the river, which her dog crossed the bridge to retrieve, thus becoming the first living thing to cross it.^[4] The devil was left with only the soul of the dog.^[5]

The lowest arch of the current bridge is ancient, possibly medieval.^[6] It is a stone arch, and the oldest part of the structure that is still standing.

In 1753, the bridge was repaired, and a second stone arch was added when the original bridge was thought to be unstable. The builders used the original bridge to support scaffolding during construction and added a second arch.^[6]

In 1901, an iron bridge was erected above the older arches, and eliminated the slope in the roadway. In 1971, the steelwork and railings were repaired and the bridge was strengthened.^[7][6]

The bridge is at a point where the River Mynach drops 90 metres (300 ft) in five steps^[8] down a steep and narrow ravine before it meets the River Rheidol.^[9] The set of stone steps, known as Jacob’s Ladder, a circular walk for tourists, leads down to a modern metal bridge below the waterfalls.^[10]

I want to tell you something. The way I heard the story, the Devil didn’t want the soul of the dog. Wasn’t up to snuff. He sent the dog back to its owner. A nice ending all around, yes?

Our “short walk” group returned to the hotel and settled in for a cozy knitting session while the other group finished their walk. Kudos to all of those hard hikers. Some of their walk was QUITE steep. They worked hard. As a reward, we took them for a train ride.

You can’t beat an old-fashioned steam engine train ride, especially through beautiful landscape. Our route took us from Devil’s Bridge (with a short stop in the chocolate shop next to the train station) through the Veil of Rheidol. We dropped in elevation from 684 ft to sea level. Our train passed forest and farms. It was lovely and the company was pretty swell too.

And we landed in …

Yes! This one is easily pronounced. Really! Say it with me: ah-behr-iss-twith. You did it!

That building and those tulips were the brightest things I saw all day. It was grey, grey, grey and raining on and off through our visit. I love the ocean. I love to walk along the surf and be by the sea. But on a grey, drizzly day, it’s hard to say it was fantastic. And town was… also a bit gray and drizzly. After a quick lunch and pow-wow with co-guide Colleen, I went for a walk along the boardwalk, only to find there was no beach and not much in the way of shops or restaurants or anyone about, even. Lots of tall, Victorian buildings right up to the concrete promenade at water’s edge. All are residential or have been made over into small hotels or holiday “lets”. I think on a fine day it might be full of people perhaps? Or maybe sidewalk vendors? Or… ??? But the day we were there, not one vendor, not one cafe could be found along the promenade. I watched a few tourists and some very determined dog walkers make their way from one end of the promenade to the other. Hmmmm. Maybe the town’s funicular had more to offer. I’m a firm believer that if you have the option to go up in elevation to catch a view, you should definitely do it. Always a good idea. And was on this day as well.

To my utter delight, the funicular climbed to a fair height. From the top, Aberystwth looked lovely! I began to feel a bit encouraged. I wandered about on top of the hill. Not much going on up there. I took the funicular back down. I decided to ignore the “boardwalk” and wander through the neighborhoods back to the meeting location for the group.

MUCH better.

I found some nicely kept neighborhoods, a very old church, a park and lots more dog walkers. After turning a corner, I found myself on a lively High Street with all kinds of vibrant shops and restaurants and services. Aha! Signs of life! This must be where the locals hang about. I’m always glad to find

The next day, we left the Hotel Hah-vahd early in order to drive straight to Wonderwool Wales. Now, despite the gloomy weather and despite my generally sluggish response to Wales, this was a FANTASTIC yarn festival. Let me say that again. FANTASTIC. Great vendors. Great venue. Good food. A wide range of crafting types represented we’re represented: from sewing to spinning, finished yarn to felted objects, dyers to domestic wares, three buildings chock full of really fine offerings. Wonderwool Wales, you are a gem. I have maybe four pictures from the day???? Because there was so much to look at and it was all so good that I didn’t remember to record the experience. I was too busy experiencing it. And that is the best compliment I can possibly bestow on any event: so good I forgot to record any of it.

I think Wonderwool Wales is one, if not the, largest fiber festival in the UK now. Well worth attending. In fact, it was so good that I was afraid to go back the second day for fear of buying more amazing woolly goodness. I can only carry so much stuff with me while leading tours.

Instead, while some folks went back for a second day of wool immersion, I did some sleuthing around Hay-on-Wye, the small market town in which we found ourselves for the final nights of the tour. I explored the town’s winding streets just after breakfast. I worked on my computer for a few hours. Then, with the sun out and the River Wye just a block from our hotel, it seemed wholly appropriate to go stroll in the Welsh countryside while still able to do so. And so I did.

It. Was. Glorious.

What is it about the English (or Welsh or Scottish or or Cornish or…) countryside that absolutely sparkles when the sun comes out? While cloudy, everything is gray and drizzly. Colors blend together from stone wall to covering moss, from pasture to hedges and on to the heights of trees — all the greens and grays blend into each other. They wash together like an overworked watercolor until… BLING! the sun comes out. At that moment, every object, every leaf, every petal on every flower — every everything stands bright and separate and vibrantly alive in the landscape (or cityscape). It’s really something. And the afternoon’s walk was an hour or so of that absolute crisp, bright, effervescent English countryside. Rambling along. Bluebells. River rock. Sheep in the fields. Stone houses. Secret, leaf-strewn paths.

The best.

I closed out that final (for me) day in Wales with a delectable Indian dinner and knitting with the group in the lobby. A pretty sweet final day.

By the next morning, we were headed back to Cardiff on the bus. The group would have a whole day in the city plus a really splendid final meal together. However, I had to get to London to meet up with my sister and zip up north for a housesit. Hugs all around once we reached the hotel. A quick lunch and convo with Colleen before splitting for tours in Cornwall/Devon/The Cotswolds (me) and the Cotswolds walking tour (her). We’ll meet up in Dublin for the final tour of the season over in Ireland. Can’t wait to show her the Emerald Isle and share all we do, see, eat, learn and make while over there.

Well, all… my train is arriving at King’s Cross Station shortly, in London. I want to share some of my favorite images and random thoughts about Wales with you. But I don’t want to rush either. So I’ll end this post and pick up in my hotel room later this evening or perhaps in the morning.

Cheers.