Friday was a “Downtime day” in Llangollen as we played tourists for a bit. First off we went to the station to check out the heritage railway. We admired the station and Jessie the engine (apparently a cousin of Thomas), but decided to make the trip another time as it would have taken quite a chunk out of the day.
On then, into town, pausing on the bridge to admire the River Dee and get our picture taken again by an obliging passer-by.
(left of centre is The Corn Mill, where we were due to have Brian’s birthday dinner)
Brian wishes to point out that he was not dropping litter over the bridge!
In among the gift shops and cafes, Llangollen has many useful shops including a great deli, a bakery where I bought bara brith (“speckled bread”) and Watkins & Williams - an amazing hardware store of the wonderful old-fashioned type which sold everything you could want plus things you didn’t know you needed. We left with some brass screws and metal polish as well as the bottle opener and cheese knife we’ve been looking for for ages.
Just up the road was a signpost to Plas Newydd, the home of the “Ladies of Llangollen”, so we went to investigate. What an amazing house!
Carved wood decoration on the outside:
was matched by even more on the inside (but no photography allowed there).
We fortified ourselves with coffee and fresh-baked scones in the tea room before returning to the town to replenish grocery supplies and then back to the Wharf, where we swapped 43 horse power for 1 horse power and took a trip on the horse-drawn boat, courtesy of Hercules (the one on the right!)
These trips cover the very last part of the canal, which is too narrow and shallow for other boats. It made quite a change to be drifting along in total silence with someone else doing the hard work!
We rounded off our day with a superb meal at The Corn Mill, at a window table overlooking the Dee with herons and ducklings for entertainment.
Saturday came in with a bang – thunder followed by heavy rain, which delayed our departure from the basin a bit. We were, somewhat cheekily, trying to leave straight behind another boat so that they could do the checking ahead through the narrow bits. However, we picked the wrong boat as the “scout” never got more than 10 feet or so beyond his boat and they just ploughed on regardless!
Nevertheless we got through without incident and soon we were back at Trevor ready to cross the aqueduct again.
The weather was very different this time, gloomy, wet and with low cloud. However, this did not put off the procession of Japanese tourists we encountered as we crossed, who all said “Harro” or waved (some said “harro” and waved) We responded appropriately in each case, feeling a little like royalty by the end. One lady enquired “has your boat got a toilet?” “Yes, and a shower” (“and central heating” added Brian) . She looked enchanted.
On we went through the rain until we reached the north end of Chirk Tunnel. Feeling thoroughly soggy we decided to stop for lunch, during which time the rain stopped and the sun broke through. I took advantage of this to walk into Chirk itself, a charming little town with reminders of its past as an important staging post on the road to Holyhead.
Once across Chirk aqueduct, and therefore back in England, we cruised through unbroken sunshine until we found a pleasant mooring and here we have stayed today, cleaning, touching up paintwork and other little jobs we don’t get round to as often as we should.
The nearby village is called Welsh Frankton; I’m not actually sure if we’re in England or Wales.
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