Llanberis was a little uninspiring, hindered as it was by the stubborn blanket of cloud which enveloped the valley, in stark contrast to yesterday. We did a little walk alongside the lake from the lakeside car park down towards the castle, under the Llanberis railway (this one was definately a tourist attraction and to be honest, we were all railwayed-out after yesterday) and back towards the village.This end of the village houses the most popular tourist attraction in Llanberis, the Snowdon Mountain Railway, and today was no exception - there were loads of people here in contrast to the deserted streets of Llanberis itself. The steam engines chugging around in the yard made for a couple of picture opportunities, but any thoughts of malking the journey up the mountainside were quickly put aside when we spotted the charge - £25 each and no concessions! Despite the think cloud no more than 100ft above us, there were queues of people clambouring to get on board for the hour-long journey to the summit cafe, where they could enjoy an exhorbitantly priced coffee in the fog before making the same trip back. This wasn't for us. I know the new cafe is supposedly worth visting, but a cafe on a stately mountain-top is, for me, just not right, and a railway to get there is wrong too - mountains are for climbing the proper way. Anyway, we had other plans for the afternoon but before then, we needed some lunch.
Suitably refreshed, we headed over the famous Llanberis pass through Capel Curig to Betws-y-Coed, a picturesque and popular small town nestled in the heart of the mountains. Betws-y-Coed is always busy, being popular with walkers and situated on the main A5 road from Shrewsbury through to Conwy, and today was no exception despite being beyond the end of the main tourist season. One feature of Betws-y-Coed endeered straight away - the car park by the railway station was free!
We'd soon availed ourselves of an ice cream and visited a number of shops when Dad and I went on to the little bridge over the river to take some long exposure pictures of the water. When Mum and Carole caught us up, we ventured out to the rocks by the riverside for some more pictures, and this is where the afternoon took a turn for the worse. Stupidly I got too close to the water, and the wet rocks became as smooth as ice as I suddenly found myself horizontal rather than vertical, with my knee taking the full impact. Dad came over straight away to make sure I hadn't broken anything, and, satisfying himself that my camera was OK, he then looked to me instead. Apart from a sore knee, my pride was more bruised, but after a few minutes the pain had eased and I could at least walk on it. Another lesson learned the (very) hard way...
After hobbling back to the car, we drove on to the pretty village of Beddgelert, where we took the short walk as all tourists do to Gelert's grave. The story is that Gelert was Welsh prince Llewelyn the Great's faithful dog, who was left to guard his son whilst Llewelyn went out hunting alone. On his return, the dog, covered in blood, met his master, who went inside to discover his son's cot empty amidst blood-splattered sheets. Heartbroken, thinking the dog had done the nasty deed, Llewelyn thrust his sword into the dog's side, only to hear a child's cry at the same moment as the dog died. Llewelyn found his son next to the body of a wolf, which had been slain by the reliable dog. Full of remorse, Llewelyn buried the dog in a grave (Bedd in Welsh), hence Beddgelert. Supposedly he never smiled again.Down through the Aberglaslyn pass, the road follows a similar course to the new railway extension which will soon connect the Welsh Highland Railway from Beddgelert to Porthmadog. At Tremadog, we found Dad's old campsite, which was now a caravan park, before heading into town to stock up on provisions and heading back. A great, if painful, day in the mountains!
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