YouTube Guided Tourist in Wales... That's me

 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.

Turning 50

 Back at Chirk Marina, 'staff' took control of our dear Caitlin and motored her into place. She was home again. We were homeless. We cleaned up and set off in the rental car to explore northern Wales I had my trusty map with highlighted highlights and my phone plugged in with Google Maps open. 

In Holywell (the Lourdes of Wales) we visited the holy well of course. St Winifride's Well was a place that for centuries, people have pilgrimaged to, to dip into the healing waters. Actually, you dip THREE times because those enthusiastic Catholics believe that sometimes it takes not once, not twice but three dunkings to get a miracle healing.  Crutches that have been found discarded at the site of the spring are the only real evidence of legs that can walk again and they are now part of the museum/gift shop on the property.

At said museum we got the real scoop. I mean it was a more thorough version than Wikipedia and honestly was refreshingly open minded about the legend of St Winifred too. Essentially the girl was gunning to be a nun and was in training under the watchful eye of Beuno, a local Abbot, who built the church. Some nobleman's spoiled, entitled and lustful son took a fancy to her but she rejected him. He lost all control and tried to rape her. He cut off her head....or mostly cut off her head?

Beuno, with a reputation for healing the mentally sick, reportedly found Winifride and healed her. This interpretation implies she was likely mostly dead with a serious neck wound and enough trauma to cause dissociation that could be viewed as not really being alive anymore.  Winifride then became famous for defending her chastity AND (coincidentally) for the spring that now existed on the site of her near death experience. Her brother killed the attacker and that was the end of him, FYI.

There are two "Life Book"s - written accounts of Winifrida's well. Essentially the story was passed verbally for 500 years then two versions came into written existence about 1000 years ago. From Vita Prima, chapter 25 comes this quote, which I quite liked:

"Human suffering of every kind was sure of obtaining the compassionate aid of this gentle virgin, when sought with faith"

We dipped 3x into the pool beside the spring. Knee-deep only - the gal at the gift store said that would be enough. And to be fair, it was darn cold! I had no wishes or prayers to be answered, wounds to heal. I'm not sure why I dipped, except that I was there, the story is a compelling one and really, what did I have to lose?!

From Holywell, we headed west following a coastal route. Mark had mastered those tiny, one lane streets where parking is permitted anywhere from all over the sidewalk to the middle of the road and we now understood there was no consistent rule or much personal responsibility in regard to speed in tight spaces. It was kinda liberating. 

Conwy Castle made my list because... YouTube. Some influencer had gotten to me once again. We spent a couple of hours here on a sunny and very hot day and I put away the world's largest custard square (vanilla slice) and called it 'birthday cake'. This town was mighty cute and I felt like I had been here before. 

The South Stack Lighthouse is located out there on the tip (island off of the island) of Anglesey at Holyhead. I had been advised by (you guessed it...) YouTubers, to get there for sunset. We did, kinda. I mean it was super overcast, blowing a gale and trying to rain, but somewhere out there the sun was dipping below the horizon near Ireland as we battled Mother Nature down 300+ steps while dressed head to toe in Goretex!

I took hundreds of pictures of seabirds (guillemots) and wildflowers that defy reason to live here, and of course, of the lighthouse. As we visited, the lighthouse turned on and the fog horn started. Magical! We literally staggered back up as darkness and rain settled in a bit more and we went in search of somewhere to stay. 

That's when Lastre Farm Stay came into play. What a find! They upgraded our room AND squeezed us into the dining room for dinner despite being pretty booked up. The food was farm-to-table great and I got my wish for fresh and salady. 

I ate shrimp and crab for my birthday dinner, shaved my legs (file that under self care) and had a tiny bit of energy left to download the days photos to my computer before calling it a night. 50 was treating me ok so far.