I must tell you that Wales is a bit of a blur and two days does not do it justice at all. I ventured as far south as Brecon through countryside not dissimilar to Scotland. So perfect are the farms they could be a model laid out on a board with hedges and trees and sheep and cows and lots of green grass and a farmhouse, then tilted up at 45 degrees (all the verticals self-righting).
The signs are written in Welsh first and English second so by the time you've gone slightly cross-eyed getting through the Welsh bit with all the 'llsywnd-b-coywd' sort of stuff you've whizzed past the signpost and still have no idea what it said!
My drive through the mountains of Snowdonia heading to Caernarfon has nightmarish qualities that are often associated with 'B' roads: narrow, winding and in this case mountainous. This is, in fact, an 'A' road but a jolly poor excuse for one I'd say. The Sat Nav and I are locked in a battle to the death, it got me onto this road and now it doesn't want me to follow the signs that clearly say CAERNARFON. I might as well look out for Mt Snowdon (1085m) while I'm here, but there are so many candidates for very high mountains that it's hard to pick. I pull into a lay by and take a picture of what must surely be it, but later discover it's Moel Eilio which is way down the list at 726m.
I eventually reach Caernarfon and what a magnificent place it is, but no time to linger it's off up the coast heading to the bright lights of Llandudno where our last story ended. Just before the turn-off to Bangor the huge rocky cliffs plunge straight into the sea and the road is cut through the rock like a mouse-hole. There is something quite awe-inspiring about this sight.
And so the day ends sitting by the water on the Promenade at Llandudno, eating the best fish & chips ever, listening to the call of the gulls gliding overhead. Surely a sound that says 'seaside' like no other.
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