Into the Wilds of Northern Wales

This morning, I said a very reluctant goodbye to the chickens and my wonderful B&B in Hay-on-Wye. It certainly wasn't the most plush of the places I stayed, but it was the place where I felt the most at home. A lot of that had to do with Liz, the manager, who so chatty and friendly and accommodating (she even did a load of laundry for me!). Sure, the bed was a little too hard and the pillows squashed down to nothing, but the friendliness more than balanced that out. As did the chickens. She set them loose again for me this morning after breakfast, and I was able to video it, but seeing as it took over an hour just to upload the photos below, I shudder to think how long a video would take.

Anyway, leave I did, and drove about two and a half hours north. It actually took about three since, as usual, I had to stop and take photos of all the amazing sights around me, like these:

My destination? A little coastal village called Portmeirion, which was designed and built by an architect beginning in the 1920's (more was added on over the years. It was a little like Disneyland on steroids, minus the rides.

This little dollhouse village also happens to be the setting for the cult hit The Prisoner, which is a show my boyfriend happens to love (I can't say the same, although I've only ever seen the first couple episodes). Anyway, the little building that served as his 'house' in the show is...a gift shop, chock-full of Prisoner tchotchke.

Apparently, there is an official Prisoner fan club that overtakes the place once a year and stages re-enactments of famous scenes. Even if you're not a fan, you can stay in the village if you want--a number of the buildings are holiday rentals. It's a charming and fun place to visit, but I would hate actually staying there--it's like all the hordes of Bruges condensed into an area only a quarter of the size. I came just as about 10 tour buses full of people were loading up.

When I got back in my car, I discovered I had absolutely no cell phone reception or internet/data. All those beautiful green hills (mountains?) don't make for very good cell phone coverage. Fortunately, I had anticipated this might happen and had written down the highways I needed to take. Even so, it was still a very stressful drive that last leg. The roads seem to shrink with every mile and got twistier and turnier by the minute. There literally is not room for two cars in a number of places, and when another car suddenly pops around the bend, you both have to slam on your brakes and one of you has to pull over while the other squeezes past. So, there's that. Signage is also not the greatest. You pretty much see the sign right where you're supposed to turn (and sometimes because of all the trees and bushes, you can't even see there's a road there), AND there are a ton of words on every sign since they're in Welsh and English, so it's easy to register all the pertinent info too late and just fly by. Then it's another 3-4 miles before you can find an area to turn around.

I must admit, by the time I got here and settled into my room, I was starting to feel like I might not want to go anywhere in the next two days. The thought of driving those roads and trying to navigate with maps and signs to search out various spots is a little overwhelming. I have a feeling I'll find my gumption after some sleep. Otherwise, this isn't a bad place to hang out.