Coach-Trip-Style Final Day in Wales

Saturday 29th March 2014

Val devised a coach-trip-type final day in Wales with about seventeen stops.

We surged forth from the third hotel, which was a National Trust hotel near Llandudno, real Jacobean in parts with a bay on the stairs for tea. First stop Llandudno to study the pier and gain an explanation for the wreckage behind the Grand Hotel – where the latest version of the Forsyte Saga was filmed. Otherwise moribund. Then a car tour round the wild headland in the fog. Then on to Conwy. Magnificent view of Conwy Castle, built by Edward the 1st, looming in silver mist. But it’s a ruin. Val said that all the medieval castles were limewashed stark staring white in their day. Telford used Conwy’s walls to suspend a mini suspension bridge.  With no roof and moss growing, the Royal Apartments were a bit bleak. Tried to empathise with the Middle Ages. Couldn’t.  The castle entrance is just a hole in the wall up a vertical ramp. It might be necessary to pour boiling oil on guests. Well, there’s a link perhaps with the agonies of the Poor Little Rich Gays of today. Val bought a Celtic rug in the gift shop for £22.

On to Penrith. A massive Norman hulk hove into view. I was by then acclimatised to the prospect of a ruin. ‘Oh no!’ Val said, ‘it’s a National Trust Stately with furniture’. Absolutely ghastly. One assumed about 1880, worst kind of heavy, indigestible, ornate, cluttered up. But in fact it’s 1820. Queen Victoria woz ‘ere, her bedroom a prison of dark green and wood carving. Although it was lunch-time the cafe hadn’t got any lunch, only tea.

On to Caernarvon. How about doing up these medieval castles? They’re basically out of doors. Walls and a lawn inside. We saw the  Daïs where she sat and also the museum of the Investiture. But she hasn’t donated that yellow silk dress and coat with hat like a bunch of bananas upside down. Val said, from the photographs, it looked an abortion. You could see a line of stitching where the hem was.  But at last Val found a regimental museum. We spent so long looking at medals it was touch and go whether we’d gain Bodnant in time for the garden tour of the Dell. Which were the VCs? There didn’t seem to be any. But suddenly soldiers’ frockage in glass cases! That very fabric Val had been explaining in the Laura Ashley hotel – Melton. So densely woven a raw edge could be left unhemed.  And the very tight fit of the outfit. Then we found the VCs. They had them separate.

So we dashed on for Bodnant but Genevieve Suzy phoned while we were in the car park and Val needed toilet so the gate had been snapped shut by the time we reached it. Terribly common to shut on the dot. We were only 3 minutes late. What is the National Trust coming to? We could have pulled the Dainty Lady TV string but chose not to. Some rare magnolias and rhododendrons were just in view and seared on the memory.

Llandudno Misty Pier

Conwy Castle: Now Outdoors

Conwy Castle: the Royal Apartments

Telford’s Mini Suspension Bridge at Conwy, Suspended from the Castle Walls

Penrith Castle: Gloomy

Penrith Castle: Grim Stairs with Monster Posts

Penrith: Not a Ruin But That is All that Can be Said

Penrith: Some Old Bedroom

Caernarvon: the Diäs Where She Sat

At Last! A Regimental Museum: A Uniform made of Melton

Medals in Regimental Museum at Caernarvon: We Peered for 40 Mins

Rare Black Uniform in Regimental Museum Caernarvon: Frogging

 

Posted Monday, March 31, 2014 under Adrian Edge day by day.

2 comments

  1. Robert Nevil says:

    Where was Lord Snowdon’s distinctly nancy self-designed Investiture frock? Has it not been donated? Is it, perhaps, still being worn round the house?

  2. Adrian Edge says:

    I am informed by reliable sources that your hypothesis is correct. You recall that British Ambassador’s wife who complained that Lord Snowdon’s hair was dressed high and tinted champagne pink for a visit to Covent Garden with the Queen Mother? Cynthia Gladwyn, I think it was.

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