Tuesday, August 23, 2016

Fields of Purple Heather

Penmaenmawr
Prince would have loved it here, at least during at this time of year when the mountains (such as they are in Wales, hills, really) are literally covered in purple heather.

This morning, Hilary and I drove back to the same spot we went to last night, but this time we walked all the way around the hill together before she headed back to town while I continued on to what became an epic walk down the paths, through the pastures, by the sheep, past the stone circles, past more sheep, over another hill, down the road, behind the quarry, past MORE sheep, along-side the wild horses, down a crazy-narrow path, and 5 miles later, I walked into the town of Llanfairfechan (people around here say the names of towns as though they are saying "cat" -- I have no idea how to pronounce the name of that town even though I made Hilary repeat it several times; in the Welsh language, certain letter combos translate to certain sounds; it's a code I have not cracked). From Llanfairfechan I caught the bus back to Penmaenmawr; tomorrow, I'm going to Abergwyngregn. Seriously.





After my hill-walk, I dropped down into this village and caught a bus back to Pen.