28 March 2015 - Cil-y-Bont, Crawia, Llanrug, Wales

The forecasted rain arrived during the night and we woke to the same this morning. Alas there was no break in the weather so we donned our wet weather gear, such as it is, and dumped and filled with water in the hideous conditions. Last night we had considered the possibility of heading south again to Devils Gate but visibility was appalling; sightseeing was going to be a frustrating exercise today.

We decided to head back to Machynlleth where according to the Rough Guide we might find the Owain Glyndwr Centre, a museum dedicated to the history about this great Welsh hero who lived from about 1349 to 1416. Chris’s ears however had pricked up when I mentioned the Museum of Modern Art, Wales - MOMA Cymru situated in the town, open Saturdays with free entry, and so it was to this we went after parking up in the council car park and filling the pre-10 am opening time with a hot coffee.

I will take the opportunity here to comment on car parking in Britain, the bane of motorhomers. Many of the parks, including Park & Rides, have low barriers excluding much higher than a London Cab. Parking fees start at 1 GBP although that is on the low side, and while cars park willy-nilly on either side of the narrow streets, there is no such space for anything as big as a motorhome, even a small one such as we are currently travelling in. We have decided that here in Britain, a car and caravan would suit better, using the Caravan Club sites as bases and travelling out to see the sights, as we did in Australia. The fact that there is so much to see in small areas, adds to the case for a caravan versus a motorhome.

Today we were absolutely delighted to discover the wonders of the art gallery in Machynlleth, situated in the Tabernacle. The elderly lady on the desk described it as being like a “Tardis”, (Dr Who’s small phone box which proves to be a spacious travel craft) and this was so very appropriate. In 1984 an Andrew Lambert bought the Tabernacle, once a Wesleyan chapel, then full of damp and dry rot. He invited family and friends to form a Trust to restore the building and reopen it to the public and now, thirty years on, it is an art gallery not only Machynlleth, but Wales, can be proud of.


We viewed an exhibition titled "Over the Hills and Far Away" marking 140 years since William Morris visited Machynlleth. We saw his work in Australia somewhere; the location for now escapes me, but this was more concise and more enjoyable. In a gallery named The Foyer, are works from a Professor Overdale’s generous gift to the centre, most appreciated by yours truly.  I was fascinated by an exhibition titled "Patagonia", works by Kyffin Williams marking the 150 year anniversary since Welsh people first went to Patagonia. The work was bold and better viewed from the other side of the gallery; it was the history of these odd-ball people that caught my fancy.

Michael Daniel Jones (1822 – 1898) was an early Welsh nationalist and non-conformist minister from Bala, not that far from where we travelled today, who like many of his contemporaries had joined the exodus to the United States. While many Welsh communities in the US prospered, notable in Pennsylvania, Jones realised that the cultural identity of these emigrants would be diluted over time. The answer he proposed was an entirely Welsh settlement free of external control. After considering numerous locations, an area of one hundred square miles in the Chubut region in Patagonia was chosen with assurances from the Argentinian Government that the settlors would be granted religious and linguistic freedom and, if that succeeded in attracting enough immigrants from Wales, some degree of administrative autonomy.

Jones used his own family’s money to buy and fit out a ship. On 28^th July 1865, the first 153 Welsh colonists set sail from Liverpool in the Mimosa. They landed at Puerto Madryn and established the township of Rawson in September that year. Colonists were allocated rectilinear parcels of land along the Chubut River and new townships were established at Trelew in 1871, Gaiman in 1875 and Dolavon in 1880.

We had read of a similar crackpot crew setting off to South America when we were on the east coast of Australia. Obviously they are everywhere.

We also viewed a short film about cork harvesting in Portugal, the materials used in the sculpture titled “Cork Dome 2014” by David Nash featured in the Sculpture Space adjacent to the Tannery Gallery. 

I have named only a few of the exhibitions, all which we enjoyed enormously, and which we could both recommend.

When we emerged from the gallery, well satisfied with our experience, we were delighted to find the rain had abated. We walked back up the street, Heol Maengwn, which is apparently vibrant with trade on Wednesdays, but not so much on a terrible Saturday morning, noted the fanciful clock tower bult in 1873 by local landowner, the Marquess of Londonderry, to commemorate his son and heir's coming of age.

And so with slightly lifted spirits, hoping the day was not only one to spend sitting in front of a home fire rather than travelling through this lovely land, we set off, across the Dyfi River and eastwards down to the mouth of the river, passing through lovely Aberdovey squeezed between the mountain and the river, once a boat building centre, then on to Tywyn, where we found our way to the wild surf coastline, parked up and lunched on bread and hot cross buns sourced at Machynlleth. We sat in the comfortable shelter of our camper, satisfied our hunger and more, and watched the walkers in the wild wet wind along the promenade with amusement.

After great discussion while pouring over the map, we headed north east up a minor road through the picturesque Tallyllyn and Dysynni Valleys, missing the Dolgoch Falls because like so many signs in Britain, they are placed right opposite the attraction or road, impossible to turn into without risking a rear pileup. We did however see the turn off at the village of Abergnolwyn toward Castell-y-Bere, continuing up a narrow road that is better travelled without oncoming traffic.

The ancient ruins of Castell-y-Bere, dating from 1221, are all that is left of the native Welsh fortress built by Llywelyn ap Iorwerth (Llewelyn the Great) to protect the mountainous passes. After being besieged twice in the thirteenth century, this, one of the most massive of the Welsh castles, was consigned to seven centuries of obscurity and decay. The ruins seem to rise from the rock upon which it was built, and even in such a state, are hugely impressive. Even better was the fact that the lousy weather had kept most of the other tourists away, and we, apart from the sheep grazing all about, were all alone in this spectacular landscape. And better still, we managed to enjoy this amazing attraction before the rain swept through the valley.

It was here in this remote valley wandering about these ruins that I realised that we have not had to battle the tourist crowds as we did through England; this surely must be one of the many advantages of travelling through Wales at this time of the year.

Further examination of the map and synchronization of watches caused us to decide we should head directly toward our booked camp, and so we found our way across to the A487 at Minnfford, then north through Dolgellau, just north of which we spotted the first herd of dairy cows being brought in for milking, then up through the Snowdonia National Park, up and over beautiful roads, past lakes, here called “Llyn”, noting a great number of walkers, climbers and trampers out and about this Saturday despite the very unpleasant weather. We passed west of the Snowdon peaks, up past Llyn Cwellyn, turning off soon after Waunfawr just short of the city of Caenarfon, travelling the last few miles through to Llanrug to our camp here for the next two nights.


This is a CL (a Certified Location) with little more than power, security and a charming hostess who is a rugby lover, has travelled to both Australia and New Zealand and is an enemy of the All Blacks, as the mother of a Welsh rugby player should be. For now the rain has stayed off, but Mount Snowden which we travelled up past today, is still shrouded in cloud and not promising to do too much more tomorrow or any time soon.