Today is slated to be a good one!

We were up early as usual and I had a delicious waffle for breakfast.  It seemed to have a layer of crunchy sugar as though it was in a middle layer.  Fruit compote of sweetened strawberries and blueberries accompanied it but since they were in a separate container it was perfect for me.  At 9:15 we had our language lesson.  Let it not ever be said that we do not try hard to learn and fit in.  However, Welsh is not an easy language to learn even a few phrases in.  I am getting good at the spitting on the other person sounds that are required!  Definitely a language in which you quickly become 'fluid' instead of 'fluent!'

 After our tea break we grabbed our stuff and boarded the coach at 10:45 to set out to Blaenau-Ffestiniog to ride the narrow-gage railway to  the slate museum in Porthmadog.
we got about two bus lengths down the street when Shirley asked Mark if he had the sandwiches.  He jumped up and it turned none of the guys had remembered them.  We turned around by backing into the parking lot of the Church of St. Mary's next to the hotel and pulling back out onto the busy street of holiday traffic.   Mark ran in and in less than two minutes was back on board with nifty small shopping bags with the lunches we had ordered.

We drove quite a ways, it is a little hard to judge the distances when we are out and about because it seems we go in circles a lot!  It was slow going.  All along the way it seemed there were even more cars parked than there had been yesterday.  We all had slept better Saturday night because the Friday rowdies were apparently tamed by the display of security on Sunday morning.  At least 4 men in uniform, labeled tee-shirts, were present at the outdoor seating of The Stables bar and grill in our courtyard.


Conway picked up the tickets for our reserved places on the busy little train.  The comfortable seats were face to face over highly shellacked wood tables that had a map of the railroad line on it.  The train line was built to haul slate from the mountain to the sea.  The owner of the mine had it built and it even created a causeway in the bay.  What fun to eat our lunches as we rolled over the scenic hills and through the narrow valleys. made deep by the ice age. The protruding rocks are smoothly polished by the ice on one side and rough on the exposed side.  The many lakes are crystal clear and freezing cold but reflect the mountains and trees beautifully.  The train windows were very clean but it was hard to get pictures using my phone as my camera this trip.  May have to reconsider that choice next time.

Had we forgotten our lunches there was a nice choice of light meals that could be bought on while traveling as well as sodas, wine, ale, and ice creams.  One thing for sure - if you come to Wales you won't starve!

When we arrived in Llanberis Serge was waiting with our bus.  The distance wasn't that far but the experience was world's away!  The scenery from the narrow, mountain edge rails was spectacular and to see the steam from the pretty little engine warmed our hearts and stamped itself onto our memories.  Thanks to volunteers who love trains and love history for keeping this rail line alive.

At the National Slate Museum of LLanberis we saw a short video of how mining was done.  The man who demonstrated how to split slate into thin but unbroken pieces was excellent at it.  He was also quite good with the chatter and jokes.

 This gentleman would have been a valuable worker.  He could make the slate slabs super thin!

We also saw an enormous water wheel that was over 50 feet in diameter which the river had turned to provide all the power needed to run engines, saws, wood- working, smelting furnaces, and metal manufacturing so that the mine was self sufficient. As for the little puffer-bellies, when a new one would arrive it would be completely mantled and molds made of all the parts.  New pieces were made and stored, the train reassembled but knowing it had all the replacement parts needed if something failed to work.  The name of our train was Welsh Pony!

 

We visited replicas of the terrace houses representing each decade of the mine.  The one from the 1960's had a little TV, a cabinet hi-fi, and an indoor bathroom complete with a separate tub-shower room.  Very mid century modern on the inside.  The housing was all owned by the mine owner as was the company store.

In the slate mines, which were mostly outdoor cliffs, the mining family would bid on a section and promise what they could deliver as a finished product.  If they failed they lost money.  A 20% reduction of fee would be automatically charged against them because that was the expected breakage during transport of the finished work to the buyer and the miner himself suffered the loss, not the company.  The whole family was involved in the work.  The children started as young as 10 years of age.   The men would scale on precarious quarry cliffs using self built scaffolding or by rope.  They would pass large pieces down to the younger men who had learned the splitting skill.  There were standard sizes that resulted in a difference in pricing.  Thinness also was a factor as thin slates may crack or break easily.  Most of the Welsh slate went onto roof tops.  Great slag heaps cover the landscape but are protected by historical preservation laws.  Don't be picking up and of this to take home in your pocket!

We did not visit a coal mine but they are of particular interest to me as my Dad's first job was in one in Illinois at the age of 9 or 10.   It is pretty much the same here as it is for miners everywhere.  You were paid and then returned all that money to the company to get the things you needed.  If the mine had an underground element to it then one week a year when the horses would be blindfolded, brought out to a field, and with their eyes uncovered enjoyed a fenced in freedom.  Much like the miners who could go where they could afford and rest from the mind numbing and dreary work they performed 5 and a half days a week.


On the way back to the hotel we made a photo stop at Caernarfon Castle.  This is in the most beautiful setting at the edge of the river Seiont.  Built by Edward I he added walls to the city.  The site was chosen because of the direct link to the previous Roman fort.  At that time, completed in about 130, it cost a staggering sum of about 25,000 pounds.  Adjusted for inflation that would be an un-doable amount in the current day and age.  Sadly although the exterior walls remain the inside buildings are all gone.  But what a thing of beauty it is on the water's edge.

 

DLG - David LLoyd George

Welshman who became Prime Minister!

 View from behind the castle at the water's edge.

 Octagonal towers

 A seagull culprit!

Carnarvon Castle is the Anglicized version and you may remember that it is here that Elizabeth II held the Investiture of Charles Prince of Wales.  It is because of this ceremony that the castle is totally rebuilt and beautifully maintained now.  Take a  moment and check it out.

It is also here where seagulls swooped and soared and dropped an egg at my feet from high above!  In reality, it turned out that it was probably a stealthy Magpie that had stolen the egg from a high perched nest but couldn't hold on to it!  I must say that the yolk, which stayed intact while whites covered my shoe and splashed up my pant leg, was the largest yolk I have ever seen from an ordinary bird!

Elva heading to the treacherous Seagull Bomb Arch!

Dinner at the hotel was, as always delicious and way too much to eat.  Eton Mess for dessert again.  Serge and Conway dined with Elva and I and we sat a long time chatting and they are each very interesting people.  It was nice to get to know them better.  After a long while we got the eye from the waitress who wanted to turn the table over as it was still the holiday weekend and the hotel was full.

Back in the room, Elva and I sort of rearranged our suitcase contents for the next leg of the trip.  I opted out of writing and read for awhile which has put me remarkably behind in reporting to you!