Cymru

We've just returned from a trip up to Wales. Wales is a part of the United Kingdom but is it's own country. The Welsh call their country Cymru. It has it's own language, very ancient and much like Celtic and Gaelic. All the signs are written in both Welsh and English. The Welsh people, in my three day experience, are much more friendly and welcoming than those I've met in England. When you think of going to England and you think, "While I'm there I'll go to the country"... you want to go to Wales. It was absolutely beautiful. Except for the roads.

I rented a car in Aberystwith and drove up to Llandanwg, where we were staying. I've mentioned the narrow roads, right? It was a good thing the family wasn't with me (that's another story in itself) on that first drive because, while I may not have said them out loud, I was thinking some very naughty words as I piloted my Skoda Fabia down the narrow, twisty, mountain roads. I swear I am not joking when I say there were several occasions when the passenger side mirror was slapping the ivy on the rock walls beside the road as I met oncoming traffic. Other times, especially in the villages, cars would be parked on the side of the road effectively making it a single lane. There were signs, I wish I had a picture of this, that said "Oncoming traffic may be in middle of road." There was a tractor parked in the road. The blinkers were on and I suppose the farmer was in the field next to us... but I had to come to a complete stop, look around the tractor and then pass it in the oncoming lane. As you can see in the picture, there were other traffic concerns as well. These were skittish, unpredictable and very vocal.

They don't mark their roads very well, either. Speed limit signs were sporadic, at best. Much more than speed limit signs were the reminder that Speed Cameras were in use. In this country, they don't have a Highway Patrol. They just post some cameras around the roads and take the pictures of anyone speeding and mail them a ticket. The roads are primarily marked at the roundabouts, those infamous circles of death, wherein cars enter from all sides and presumably, exit the circle onto one of the connecting roads. You may be familiar with the American "spaghetti bowl." This condenses that monstrosity down to a 75 foot circle of pavement with two or three entrances/exits. It's a rush.

Wales was magnificent. The mountains. The ocean. The fields of crops and sheep. The occasional castle.

The boys swam in Cardigan Bay despite the bone-chilling temperatures and the threat of jellyfish. They splashed and screamed and threw rocks and drew their names in the wet sand. They collected shells and caught some tiny, soft-shelled crabs that ran around the beach.

The day we left the clouds broke and the sun shone on the ocean and Wales cemented it's position as My Favorite Part of the UK.