After a huge Welsh breakfast, Jessica and I headed for the Isle of Anglesey just off the northern Welsh coast line. After a couple of wrong turns, we crossed the bridge onto the island and headed to Beaumaris, a quiet little harbor town on the south eastern coast of the island. We had signed up for a Puffin Cruise, but upon arrival, we learned that it was too windy for the trip out. The boats next door, offering more of a speed boat were still debating about their afternoon trips, so we put our name down on a list and took to exploring the town and castle.
After visiting Conwy Castle yesterday, I was quite certain that nothing could top that castle. I was wrong. Beaumaris Castle, started in the late 13th century at the same time Conwy Castle started, was never finished because King Edward basically ran out of money. This castle, despite being unfinished, is still a place I'd happily call home, although I'd have to share it with the current residents. As we crossed over the moat into the castle (yes, there was an actual moat), we ooed and awed at the swan and her six little ones. Once inside, like children, we eagerly explored the hidden hallways, spiral staircases, tiny rooms, and walks along the walls several flights up. The small chapel room, the most in tact of ones we saw echoed just perfectly; the acoustics were remarkable. Like Conwy Castle, the empty towers hummed with the gentle cooing of pigeons, echoing to hide their exact position. They, too, appreciated every nook and cranny of the castle, making it quite their own and not seeming to appreciate our curiosity in their home. We watched young seagulls hopping around after their mother on the high walls, looked down and watched the young swans swimming through the moat and looked in the distance to beautiful hillsides. I believe I have a new favorite castle.
We wandered around the cute little port town, perfectly painted with bright colors and full of shops and cafes. A local bakery supplied us with homemade pies for lunch before we wandered back to see if our boat trip was a possibility. The water in the harbor looked fairly rough due to the strong winds, but a blue sky had appeared. The young girl, knowing how excited we were told us the trip was on and that four others had signed up to join us. Yay! She warned us that we would have two young drivers for the outing. Unsure of why, or really what we were getting into, we walked on to the end of the pier.
Our drivers greeted us and although we never asked their ages, Jessica and I determined that they were in fact very young, possibly not even the age of a college student. We had our cameras out, ready to see the puffins, to which they just told us, "You're going to get really wet." Believing they just meant we'd get damp, we agreed to put our bags in their locker, but we hid our cameras safely inside our raincoats under our fashionable life jackets. We boarded the boat, straddling a seat like one would a jet ski and quickly found handle bars to grip in case it was needed. I don't think it took but a minute to realize that when he said we'd get really wet, he meant soaking. Bouncing over huge cresting waves and pounding back onto the rough water was just part of the adventure. Sometimes we seemed to be airborn for much longer than should be expected and sometimes it seemed that we were more cutting through the waves based on the amount of spray that soaked us from head to toe. We did reach our destination though of Puffin Island, seeing a huge variety of migrating birds that call this island home. The Puffins were what we had truly come to see though. They were not on the sides of the rocks sitting in large groups as we had expected, but we did see a number of them in the water. They were easy to distinguish amongst all the other birds due to their beautifully colored bright beaks. Mission complete, and thanks to digital photography, I was able to snap happily away and get at least a couple in focus photos of the little ones.
Our return trip to the pier was no calmer than our ride out. In fact, our young driver, seeing that we were all a bit terrified, yet still enjoying ourselves decided to have fun with it, really showing off what the boat could do with doughnuts, bursts of full speed and quick turns which ensured every inch of us soaked to the bone. Jessica and I have had a tendency to do things on this trip without having a full understanding of exactly what we were signing up for. Although sometimes terribly frightening, so far, it's worked out really well for us and made phenomenal memories.
Cleaning ourselves up just a bit, thankful to have our complete suitcases in the car, we headed toward Conwy, home for another night, knowing we wanted to make one more stop. Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch is a small town also on the Isle of Anglesey that boasts the second longest name in the world. It has 58 letters while a town in New Zealand which takes home the prize for the longest town name has 85. The small town has fully embraced its claim to fame, putting its name on every sign, welcoming tourists to come and take photos. The name, in Welsh, actually means something and appears to we tourists just to be a lot of words stuck together. It means: "The church of Mary in the hollow of the white hazel near the fierce whirlpool and the church of Tysilio by the red cave." We asked our young local waitress this evening to pronounce the town name, which she happily did and even offered to spell it for us, realizing this must be a common request of the tourists. Her beautiful, perfect Welsh accent easily brushed through the long word, making the double ls sound more like a throaty cat hiss. She told us that Welsh is widely spoken throughout the country, more exclusively spoken in rural areas.
After showering away the salt that stuck to our skin, we wandered back in to Conwy for a meal and a drink at a pub. At the pub, the young bartender quickly realized that we were not from the area, so we enjoyed our conversations with he and the locals throughout the evening, especially when three of them broke out in traditional Welsh hymns. My favorite however was when the bartender discussed his trip to America with us. He had visited California and Nevada. But I was surprised when he said he had been a bit disappointed. "Why?" I asked. "Well," he said, "based on the films, I really thought everybody would be excited about my accent, but they weren't." "By films," I asked, " do you mean that one scene in Love Actually were he went to Wisconsin?" To which he just smirked and nodded. I'm confident our impression of Brits comes from films and it is so fun to see they do the same thing.
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