Eternal winter

I might be exaggerating, but this eternal winter has stretched on long enough. We had some warm days in March, but April has been the coldest I can recall. This week we have had more rain than our usual monthly total, and torrential downpours are predicted for Sunday. The fields on the way to Mold are flooded and at lunchtime I took this photograph of the waterlogged school yard.

St George's Day

I think that today is St.George's Day. I say I think it is, I'm really not that sure. You can't miss St.Patrick's Day with all those shamrocks and freshly poured pints of Guinness. And as I Welshman I never fail to wear a daffodil to mark St David's Day. Perhaps the Scots do something similar with a thistle. However, despite all the fuss we make over the various saints, I have a secret admiration for St George, and it has nothing to do with the dragon. I rather like being Welsh, but I admire the way the English decide to ignore their saint. Not for them the flag waving, real ale drinking celebration it could be, but a instead a healthy indifference to nationalistic symbolism. Nor have they allowed they patron saint to be sponsored by a multi-national company. Saints days are admittedly reasonably harmless stuff; in that spirit I will mark St George's Day with an understated small glass of English beer. Which is probably the best in the world.

DIY Audax: Ruthin - Vyrnwy - Ruthin

Another 100km+ ride; this was my 6th of the year, and third this month. It was a great ride crossing the Berwyn mountains; here are some photographs from along the route:

Roger and Garmins

Near the top of the long climb out of the Tanat valley.

At Vyrnwy: Dam

Time trialling and me.

Signing on in the shadow of the church

I have not time trialled in a decade and certainly did not imagine I would ever do it again. This spring - feeling fitter than ever - I have once again pinned the orange number to my shirt and hammered down the road. When I last time trialled I was at least 3 stones heavier, if not considerably more. I think I assumed therefore that I would find the races much easier and get Personal Bests each time I took part. The first race up the Rhuallt Hill went according to that plan; even the horrible weather did not prevent a 'PB'. But the last two races over 5 and 9 miles have shown that age is equalling the weight loss and my times have not been markedly different from years ago. In fact on the 5 mile course I was 46 seconds slower that my best, and for the 9 mile event some one and a half minutes slower. Now those times were set on warm nay balmy evenings after months of time trialling, so I will keep trying to see if I can get back to that level.

Hen Caerwys

The Caerwys Historical Society organised a field trip yesterday evening to Hen Caerwys. Actually it is not 'hen' as in 'old' Caerwys, as Caerwys pre-dates 'Hen' Caerwys - confused? Hen Caerwys is the site of a deserted settlement to the north of the town. From the remains it must have been of some importance, especially, I think, due to the large central enclosure. Small houses are in evidence around the perhaps 4 acre site. The site is well-preserved by the landowner and he allowed a archaeological excavation to take place there last summer, and another is planned for later this year. In fact archaeologists have been interested in the sire since the 1960s, but the quality of the digs and the subsequent record keeping has been variable. Will Davies of CADW gave the society an excellent and informative tour of the site.

The interest in antiquity can be judged by the number that turned up to the event. Thirty-nine members of the society took part on a perfect April evening. The large numbers did cause a problem for catering in the Piccadily afterwards, so I need to learn from that. Here are some photographs from the evening.

Prime Ministers that came to North Wales on holiday.

David Cameron came to North Wales on holiday this Easter. The Daily Mail in their typical 'glass half-full' style painted a picture of the PM having a rather glum time of things. They included this less than complimentary photograph of David Cameron having a pint at Morfa Nefyn:

The Daily Mail entitled their piece 'Wish you weren't here'. Yet they are so wrong as North Wales is just about the best place any Prime Minister can visit for some well-deserved rest. And the weather only adds to the beauty of the place. The beer is good too. There is quite a tradition of Prime Ministers visiting North Wales on holiday. The great 19th century Prime Minister W.E.Gladstone visited Penmaenmawr on a dozen different occasions and brought welcome publicity to that town. Of course Gladstone himself lived in North Wales, so a journey to Penmaenmawr was relatively easy, even in the 19th century.

Gladstone's holidays are still remembered in Penmaenmawr.

I will mention Lloyd George shortly. My favourite Prime Minister and North Wales story involves H.H.Asquith. He was Prime Minister from 1908 to 1916. During that time he fell in love with a girl 40 years younger than himself, Venetia Stanley. Her family owned a large house in Penrhos, near Holyhead. Asquith wrote hundreds of letters to Venetia (sometimes even while Cabinet was in session) and he managed to get invited to Stanley family holidays in Penrhos. Asquith was married to Margot (who was 12 years his junior); they had numerous children from other marriages. Nevertheless Asquith's infatuation with Venetia was to last for many years and their holidays in North Wales were an important opportunity for them to meet socially. Venentia would eventually break Asquith's heart, but that is another story.

A poor quality image, but Venetia and the prime Minister in Holyhead.

Even Winston Churchill got an invite to the Stanley North Wales holiday retreat, although this was at least three decades before he would become PM.

I am not convinced that Lloyd George found North Wales that relaxing as he seemed to prefer the high life in London and Surrey. Perhaps there were too many skeletons in too many cupboards. Inevitably, as a North Wales MP he had to visit from time to time. A year after relinquishing his role as Prime Minister he came to Caerwys. I walk by this spot every day and think of the great Welsh Prime Minister visiting my home town on holiday, where he stayed with the former North Wales MP, Sir John Herbert Lewis.

So there is quite a tradition of Prime Ministers visiting North Wales to find peace and beautiful scenery. The Daily Mail, as so often is the case, got it completely wrong and did this part of the world no favours as the vital tourist season approaches.

Noson Lawen Caerwys style

Last night the local appeal committee for the Denbigh National Eisteddfod held a Noson Lawen in Bethal Chapel, Caerwys. The evening was a sell-out and proved to be a tremendous success by raising around half of the target amount in one go. It is many years since I had been in Bethel Chapel and in the school-room I came across a number of photographs and images that I would certainly have included in the book 'Caerwys since Victorian Times'.

The historical treasure trove that is the school-room at Bethel Chapel.

 The first was a group photograph of the Sunday school class from around 1912:

Bethel Chapel Sunday school class c1912.

 The other image on the wall of the school-room is even more remarkable. According to one of the elders of the chapel (he is in his 80s) this painting has been on the wall for a long as he could remember. My digital photograph is rather poor quality, but it shows clearly Jesus kindly watching over the white missionaries treating (presumably) native Africans. It made me recall Kipling's famous poem entitled 'The White Man's Burden', and especially the third stanza with the line: 'Take up the White Man's Burden, The savage wars of peace....' .

The chapel view of empire?

Time waits for no man.

In our bathroom is a tiny photograph of me sitting with my baby son Tom by a sundial outside Erddig Hall, Wrexham. That was nearly 21 years ago; today we went there again to recreate that memorable image. This was the original taken (I think) in autumn 1991:

Tim 'n Tom

And then 21 years later:

The sun-dial marks the passage of time.

DIY Audax ride: Caerwys - Bala - Caerwys

I kept up with my personal challenge of riding a 100km+ ride in every month of the year: four down, eight to go. Today I planned a route from Caerwys to Bala, and back. The outward route went via Ruthin and Corwen, then using the quiet roads to the east of the River Dee down to Bala. The return was to Fron Goch then a long climbing section eventually passing Llyn Brenig and finally by way of Henllan and Tremeirchion back home. Nic and I completed the ride in under 6 hours; I felt strong all the way to Bala, but the return leg showed the limits of my fitness, although I finished easily enough. The high point was the awesome full Welsh breakfast in Bala; maybe that accounted for my slower return time. Here is that breakfast:

A breakfast for a king.

The weather was almost perfect for cycling, although the sides of the road and the hills showed the remains of the snow storms that hit North Wales earlier this week.

Me with me with my fancy yellow saddle.

....and there was Nic

Caerwys at Easter.

Eastertide seems to bring out the best in people, apart from Judas Iscariot, obviously. I love being in Caerwys at Easter. The countryside is just beginning to wake from winter and the air is perfect. In fact the quality of life for most of those lucky enough to live in this table-top town could not be higher. The most recent issue of the Caerwys Chronicle showed more than two dozen different interest groups ranging from the Historical Society to a Ukelele Club. I digress, earlier today I wandered about with my camera trying but failing to catch the essence of Caerwys at Easter. These were the two best photographs:

The snow on Moel y Parc tells the story of the wild weather that hit Caerwys yesterday, but today was the complete contrast with bright skies and a gentle but cool breeze.

St Michael's Church at Easter 2012

The Rhuallt Hill Time Trial.

I thought that I had grown out of this kind of thing. It has been a decade since I last took part in a time trial, but tonight in the worst possible conditions I did another. Not only was the weather appalling but he race was up hill, all the way. I had done a practice run a few days ago in brilliant warm sunshine with a pleasant tail wind; riding up hill at pace is never easy, but my rehearsal seemed to bode well. Yet tonight winter returned with vengeance. It was bitterly cold, with a sharp head wind to battle with. Waiting for the results at the top I lost feeling in my hands and feet. Time trialling is a tough discipline in any weather and it is only in reflecting upon the event that one gets any sense of pleasure. My time was 9 minutes 22 seconds; I have never ridden up there faster, but it did not feel like that. Perhaps I should consign time trialling to my personal history file, but not quite yet as I thoroughly intend to ride again next week on a somewhat flatter course.

As a post script, I was meant to insert a photograph here, but Nic Wright claimed that his fingers were too cold to work the camera! I do believe him.

Remembering the Falkland war.

For me the Falkland war was a turning point in my political education. I can recall every detail of the conflict; I kept a cut-out map of the islands next to my bed and avidly traced the progress of the campaign. I recall listening the Saturday debate in the House of Commons, and applauded Thatcher's speech in which she bellowed:'Britain does not appease dictators'. I can see now that actually Britain does appease dictators, when in suits. Nevertheless, 30 years ago the Argentinian invasion of the Falklands seemed like a simple case of unwarranted aggression. I watched with not a little patriotic pride as the task force set off to bash the argies. This - at the time - did not seem a very complex issue, but now I can see that it was and feel very differently about the whole episode. At first it all seemed so exciting; I experienced, as then a Sixth Former, a real sense of the jingoism that was gripping the nation. As the conflict deepened my views began to change; the horrible exocet missile attacks on the British ships, and the truly awful (and probably illegal) attack on the Belgrano brought home to this 18 year old what war meant. I have hated war ever since. It never solves problems, but simply intensifies them. The Falklands war for me, and the country, was a turning point.

Chester & North Wales CTC Spring Tourist Trial 2012

Palm Sunday and once again I get on my bike and complete the Chester and North Wales CTC Spring Tourist Trial. It is an excellent event and supremely well-organised. I have done this course many times now; it starts from the scout-hut in Kinnerton and has the lunch break in Overton Village Hall. The food at Overton is sumptuous. Today the weather was perfect for cycling. A slight tail wind took us out to Overton, although this meant a relatively hard ride back. But the terrain makes for easy cycling and this proved to be far from the most difficult ride I have done this year. Nevertheless I find this tourist trial the ideal way to start the Easter holidays.

The feeding-station at Overton.

They even have marshalls to keep an eye on your bike whilst you eat cake.