Today was forecast to be pretty crappy. 99% chance of rain after 11am and heavy at times.
We opted to go in search of another castle (Castle Caerneferon) and then the little 'Italian' (loose description on a good day) village, dreamed up and built by an eccentric visionary in the 1920's. It was called Portmeirion.
The clouds gave way to showers at 10-11am - right on time. Showers gave way to downpours on and off all day and we stayed dry-of-sorts and mostly warm as we wandered. (Dry-of-sorts means at some point the humidity level of 100% inside the weather gear means you feel wet anyway.) One of the locals told us they called this rain "throwing down". It seemed REALLY appropriate!
Caerneferon Castle was in some ways better than Conwy. Most history and links to the royal celebrations that still go on today. Did you know there is a Royal Goat? A mascot with a rank in the regiment, who gets promoted or demoted depending on behavior in public! All this and more in the very comprehensive castle museum on site. One could spend all day here... but we didn't of course. Places to be an all.
Just enough time to discover and photograph seagull chicks clearly camouflaged against castle tower walls then we were on our way again. To be sure, I had actually asked the universe for "more baby animals" this morning and did not specify lambs or other fluffy things, so baby seagulls, wet and gangly, were going to have to do. (And they were heck-of-a cute in their own way.)
Portmeirion <sigh>
If you can imagine Disney, Gaudi and Cinque Terre had a baby (or threw up in the same bucket) you can imagine Portmeirion. Odd, compelling and maybe marvelous for someone like me with an interest in architecture, landscape design and who admits their boat is floated by gently breaking the traditional rules of both. The colors, textures, blended symbolism and lack of religious anchor (despite resembling worship architecture in places) were beautiful in it's own way. And sure did brighten up a very grey afternoon. But at £20/person probably a oncer for us.
Seen it. Ate the ice cream. Sloshed along the shore. Admired the balls it must have taken to "rescue buildings instead of women" back in the 1920's-1950's... And called it good.
We stayed in Beddgelert. Beddgelert was a village I had about from a YouTuber (broken record!)
It was said to be beautiful and easy to miss, but shouldn't be. A gateway to Snowdonia and a storybook looking stone village on a river that was worth an evening stroll around. The rain had stopped.
We found the Royal Goat Hotel to be a fitting place to turn in for the night and had fingers crossed that tomorrows sunshine would light this place up. It was here in our quaint little room with electric tea kettle that Mark learned (and witnessed) my plan to boil eggs in said kettle and make egg-salad sandwiches for our picnic breakfast tomorrow. It is fair to say I was a tiny bit over the pub food and craved simple salads and sandwiches. We were 10 days into our trip.
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