Grey Haired Travellers

Porthmadog (pronounced Port-Madic) in North West Wales is a seaside town which owes it’s existence to the Welsh slate mines and the trains that brought the slate down to the docks for shipment. Even though the mines are mostly closed, the town hasn’t let go of it’s trains.

With a large band of dedicated volunteers and fund raisers, the many steam trains still ply the lines up to the townships that are still surrounded by mountains of discarded slate.

This town is now a tourist resort and the steam trains carry plenty of Welsh and English tourists as well as us foreigners. The steam engines, of which there are many, were in immaculate condition being rebuilt, driven and serviced by volunteers of all ages. It was so good to see the young guys and girls in there with the older seniors teaching them the ropes.

So our first journey was from Porthmadog to Blaenau Ffestiniog, pronounced Bleni Festingyog. This town, known as the town that roofed the world, is about one and a half hours up the mountain from the coast. It’s still a reasonably busy little town and I was pleased to hear young mothers speaking Welsh to their children. In this whole area one can hear Welsh spoken as frequently as English. All street signs and in both languages.

The next day we headed further north west up to Caernarfon, prounced Carnarvan (sound familiar?). This train goes from the west coast to the north west coast through the most picturest valleys, surrounded by the mountains of Snowdonia, to end up next to the huge Caernarfon Castle. This castle, built in the 1200’s and never completed, was where Charles was crowned Prince of Wales.

Staying at the Royal Sportsman Hotel is exactly as the name implies, full of golfers. There was even a group from America that came over to play the famous Porthmadog golf course with it’s fabulous views over Snowdonia.

For a steam train enthusiast this town is a dream come true.

Well didn’t I feel a fool when answering an enquiry at the bar ‘where to next?’ No not Porth-mad- dog, it’s Port-madic. Why? no-one knows.

Shrewsbury to Porthmadog was always going to be an interesting drive as we had to go over the mountain range no matter which route we took.

Not to be outsmarted by our navigator, we wrote down which roads we wanted to take.  Made sure none of them started with the letter B and had no more than three numbers. With the plan sorted we headed off and promptly ended on the wrong road within minutes. Back tracking we then took the right turn and got onto the A5, which is where we intended to be.

The way roads are marked in UK is very self descriptive. M is for motorways which are mostly four lanes each way and generally full of frustrated drivers sitting in stationary traffic. The next best is A roads with only one number after the letter. The less the numbers the bigger the road. When the navigator wants to turn you down a road that is a B with four numbers such as B4204, don’t go there. It will probably be two way but only one car width with high hedges both sides, so you don’t see the oncoming tractor until you are almost on it, and farmers don’t drive small tractos nor do they drive slow.

So up and over the range we went on reasonably wide two way roads and dry stone walls stacked on both sides. Some of the towns required pulling over as parked cars made the drive through town one way. But don’t the bike riders love it, both motor and peddles. Being a nice sunny day they were out in force.

We really knew we had arrived in North West Wales when we come over a rise and were surpised by the instant change of scenery. From lush green hills and valleys to dark grey hills made by slate caste offs from the many slate mines and quarries that this area is renowned for.

And yes the navigator did take us on the windiest and longest way over the top, but the scenery was spectacular.