At the top of Tre'r Ceiri, on the Llyn peninsula.
What's amazing about North Wales is that you can get there in half a day and half a tank of petrol. There are lots of places you can go that meet those requirements, of course, with London as a starting point, but North Wales is undoubtedly the most spectacular, plus it has the most exotic place names you'll encounter without leaving the continent.
Take, for instance, the peninsula where we stayed: the Llyn. (You'll just have to imagine a circumflex over that y. See how exotic? My Mac doesn't even have such a character!)
The Llyn is an Italian-shaped peninsula that juts into the Irish Sea. Though it's not part of the Snowdonia National Park, it has its share of jagged mountain peaks, one of which is topped by the well preserved remains of an Iron Age settlement, and sandy beaches that, in June, are practically deserted.
I've discovered that when traveling with a dog and a family, a self-catering cottage is the only practical accommodation. Bach Wen Farm was once a monastery farm, founded in 630, and has several cottages available for weekly rentals. It's a perfect place for dogs, with lovely sea views, a rocky beach littered with dead sea creatures, and pastures full of sheep droppings. There was also a dog pasture, with some nice grazing, other dogs to chase, and access to the most interesting beach I've ever been to. It wasn't a boring sandy shoreline, instead, rocks of all sizes were strewn over the beach, which looked like a set from a film about an alien planet. At low tide, you could walk out quite a ways, and climb aboard one of the larger rocks and pretend it was a ship. At least I think that's what my dog was imagining...
One morning we heard yelling and whistling, and were treated to the sight of sheepdogs herding a recalcitrant flock of sheep. This is the sort of entertainment you'd pay big money for elsewhere, and here it's included in the cottage rental!
Bach Wen was close enough to Snowdonia National Park, the real attraction in North Wales. It's called "Eryri" in Welsh, which, as the very informative official park guide explains, doesn't necessarily mean "place of the eagles" as you're often told, but instead is derived from a medieval Welsh word meaning "a high place". It includes Snowdon, the highest mountain, and its neighbors, some of which were mined for their valuable slate in the 19th century. The vast tips of leftover slate were a surreal sight along the road through Nant Peris, a legacy of the mines as well as the destructive force of the ice age that carved the valleys below Snowdon. The mountains themselves are veined with stone walls that snake up through the green, accented with ever-present sheep.
There are plenty of entertainments in Snowdonia and around, many of which are dog friendly, provided your dog enjoys beer gardens and is agile at climbing.
Here's what else we did, in easy-to-read bullet format:
•Caernarfon Castle, a high-tech castle built by King Edward I as part of his "Iron Ring" of defense against the Welsh—the Green Zone, if you will. No expense was spared on Caernarfon's defenses, which included numerous portcullises, deadly murder holes, and advanced triple-facing arrow slits, all adding up to £25,000 over 50 years. The first English Prince of Wales, Edward II, was born here (after Edward promised the Welsh he'd give them a prince who didn't speak any English), and the last, Prince Charles, was invested here in 1969.
•Tre'r Ceiri is one of the best perserved Iron-age settlements in Wales. Unfortunately, it sits atop a rather high mountain, one of the three Yr Eifl peaks (The Rivals) that bisect the Llyn peninsula. But we were intrepid—not even hayfever and a few stiles would stop us. We all hiked up, through heather and sheep droppings, huffing and puffing as we practically crawled up the last rocky ascent. The views were excellent, and the remains of the stone huts would have been a perfect spot for an afternoon's play.
•Aberdaron Beach provided more low altitude entertainment, as well as sustenance at the 14th century Y Gegin Fawr (the Big Kitchen), once the last stop for pilgrams on their way to Bardsey Island, where 20,000 saints are buried. (That's the story, anyway.)
•Near Betws-y-Coed, a Snowdonia resort town, the younger members of our party went horseriding at Ty Coch stables, while my husband and I drove down a twisty, narrow lane through some of the finest forest views I've ever seen. We stopped briefly at Dolwyddelan Castle, where Llywelyn the Great may well have been born.
•In Trefriw, north of Betwys, you can visit a working woollen mill, view its hydro-electric generation facilities, and buy woollens made right there on the premises, or perhaps in China.
•Betws-y-Coed is also the place to go for tacky souvenirs, and if it's internet you want, try the Royal Oak Hotel.
•At Bodnant Gardens, near Conwy, I decided heaven must exist after all. Or maybe I'd arrived at the Garden of Eden. The gorgeous laburnum arch was a few weeks past its prime, but still a few yellow bracts poked delicately through the lattice. Formal gardens, wooded glens, massive Sequoias, raging waterfalls—if heaven doesn't included these, count me out.
•On Friday we ignored the weather and rode the Snowdon Mountain Railway, a rack and pinion railway up the largest mountain in Wales, Snowdon. (Tip: Book in advance for the first journey out, and save half price.) Sadly, the stop at the summit was closed for refurbishment, so the train stopped 3/4 of the way to the top, where we got out and took photos of the mist-covered summit. In fact, I'm not sure I ever saw the summit of Snowdon, as clouds hung over Snowdonia throughout our trip. But the clouds did provide atmosphere.
•In Conwy, on the north coast, we set off to find Aberconwy House, reputed to be haunted, and the spirits guided us right to it: when I stopped in a shop to inquire for directions I was told I was standing in it! It's the oldest town house in Wales, dating to the 14th century. We parked near Conwy Castle, another of the Iron Ring of castles, but no one had the stomach for another castle tour, so the view from the town walls satisfied us.
Anglesey Island, a large flat island separated from the main land by the Menai Straits, offers enough adventure for a whole week. I only spent an afternoon, touring Beaumaris Castle, snapping a photo at the town with the longest name in the world, visiting the cultural center at Ynys Oriel Mons, and risking my life viewing South Stack lighthouse.
•Beaumaris Castle, another of Edward's Iron Ring, is perhaps the most beautiful. However, if you don't know anything about Beaumaris before you enter, you won't know much after touring the grounds. There's little information posted, so unless you buy a guidebook, you'll leave as bemused by Beaumaris as when you arrived.
•Ynys Mons Oriel is a museum and art gallery, with everything from axe heads to a Rubic's cube. The gift shop was a welcome respite from the tacky shops that Snowdonia's tourists have encouraged. I bought a handbag made of recycled shopping bags. Vegan, and beautiful too.
•South Stack Lighthouse was closed when I arrived, though I'm sure I wouldn't have braved the cliff steps to approach it. It's a sheer drop off the edge, and a stiff wind was blowing.
•Ellin's Tower, on the other hand, was a safe walk beyond the carpark, and was open and staffed by volunteers from the RSPB, who provided binoculars and information on the birds that nested in the area. We watched a pair of once-nearly extinct choughs ("chuffs") without threat from the fierce wind and cliffs.
The drive through the forests and mountains of Snowdonia—along the A470, A487, and the A458—was worth the trip alone. We didn't have a chance to explore the southern lakes and mountains, which means I'm already planning another trip–I'm pretty sure I can get there and back on a single tank of petrol, which makes this one of the greenest trips I've taken—in more ways than one.
You can view the entire photo album here.
