When we awoke this morning we discovered that we had a visitor outside our kitchen. He seemed a little annoyed that we were disturbing a good quiet early morning cud chew. We tried to say that we were sorry, but really needed some coffee.
While Vicki slept in, John and I walked into town.Along the way we passed the ruins of a twelfth-century Cistercian Abbey.
The carefully edited picture, however, obscures the trailer park adjacent to the ruins. As it was still early in the day, I did not accept the invitation in the sign below.
But we could hardly resist this wonderful sign.
We arrived in town after walking about forty minutes. This part of Wales was famous not only for coal mining, but for quarrying slate. The local stone is everywhere in town, particularly on the roofs.
One of our tasks on this part of the trip was to return a friend to this part of the world, one of the last places he had visited. These are the rapid waters of the River Dee. The bridge in the background, built in 1345, is one of the most historic structures in North Wales.
Vicki met us a short time later at a cafe by the river. John and I had a bite of breakfast and she had some tea. We went off to look at the village some more. We particularly wanted to see Plas Newydd, the house of the two ladies of Llangollen.
Lady Eleanor Butler and Sarah Ponsonby were perhaps the two most famous unmarried women of the early nineteenth century. Eleanor was youngest daughter of one of the most important families in Ireland. But in 1780, when she was 39, her family, deciding that she could never be married, decided to send her off to a convent in France. She ran away and met up with Sarah, 13 years younger than her, but about to be forced into a marriage with a man she despised. The two women bought a small cottage in distant Wales and remodeled it in the fashionable “gothic” style.
The planned to live quiet lives there, but much of Europe became fascinated by these two “celebrated virgins” and before long people as different a Shelley and the Duke of Wellington were coming to visit them. People marveled at two independent women who chopped their hair short and sometimes wore men’s clothes. We they something other than “virgins”? Nobody knows, although words they chose for their memorial stones in the churchyard certainly suggests a very intense relationship of some kind.
Alas, we did not get a chance to visit the house as it was closed on Mondays. So instead we decided to check out the steam railway.
It runs to Carrog, a nearby village, and then comes back again. As far as I can determine, Carrog’s only claim to fame is that Paul McCartney’s brother was married there.
The railroad kind of an aunt and uncle tourist attraction, but its still kind of fun. And, the old guys who run it are so happy to show off their steam engine. They like to show just how versatile it truly as. Why, it even can make tea!
And it is nice to see little bits of old England, the place we came to love in old Ealing Studio movies, is still there.
After the our train excursion, we stopped by Saint John’s church on the edge of the village where an Australian choir was giving a free concert.
They were not bad, and since it was raining, it was a pleasant place to spend an hour or so.
After the concert, the rain let up and the sun came out. And that was perfect timing because the parade was about to begin! The Llangollen festival likes to say that it is “Where Wales Welcomes the World.” Young performers, mostly choirs, come from all over the world to this festival, and it always begins the performers walking through town in their native costume
and carrying their country’s flag.
The locals came out to watch. You can tell that this is a highlight of the year.
For such a low-key event in a small town close to nowhere, there was a surprising number of police officers, all quite well armed, too.
There were a couple celebrity participants. One was Terry Waite, the Church of England representative who was held captive in Lebanon for four years. Another was Wynne Evans, the Welsh tenor who played Signor Pirelli in Sweeney Todd.
After this we had a couple hours until the evening performance. I wanted to walk along the Llangollen Canal and find the celebrated aqueduct where the canal crosses over the river. We saw many barges on the canal. Renting a boat on the canal seems to be a popular summer activity around here.
The barges were originally pulled by horses, and there was one firm there which had excursions in a horse-drawn boat. John noticed one of the lads who tended the horses carrying a big tub of vaseline and wearing blue surgical gloves. John asked him what he was doing. “You don’t really want to know” was the cryptic response.
After about thirty minutes, John and Vicki decided they wanted something to eat and decided to go back to town. Feeling stubborn - and not particularly hungry - I decided to walk on some more. I passed through some beautiful countryside.
And I finally did catch sight of the aqueduct. But by then it was already seven o’clock, and I had a feeling that I would probably not make it back to the festival by the time the evening performance began. I was only about 10 minutes late, but I had to wait until intermission to join up with John and Vicki. Fortunately for me, the performances this evening were hardly as memorable as those the night before. It was sort of an international variety show with this pudgy Welsh man as a kind of bilingual Ed Sullivan. Vicki really hated the Italian jugglers, and I have to agree, they were not particularly good. John thought that the Chinese dragon people were the worst. So maybe walking the length of the canal wasn’t a bad choice after all. But I think I may be sore tomorrow. I already feel a bit stiff tonight.
