Porthmadog, July 19-22

Arrived at Porthmadog to find my new poles waiting, as poles can do nothing else, at Tudor Lodge, Carl and Anja, the kind proprietors, having received them on my behalf.  I rejoiced to see them, you can be sure.

Later in the afternoon, Ruth and Paul, my dear walking friends arrived, and after a cup of tea we ambled over to a neighbouring town to have dinner at a most fine restaurant, where, whilst dining, we plotted out our activity for the next day.  Since we were likely to be treated to fine weather, a rarity in these parts and in these times, and since Ruth and Paul drove here, we took advantage of all options and decided to tackle the terrain around Beddgelert where I had been rained out a week or so ago.  But before getting to the adventure of the day, and a glorious adventure it was, AND only doable with companions who have the skills of Ruth and Paul, you must become acquainted with the sad story that gave the town its name—which means, alas and alack, The Grave of Gelert.

Gelert was a dog who belonged to Llywelyn the Great, Prince of Gwynedd.  One fine, or not so fine, afternoon, Llywelyn returns from hunting to find his baby missing, the cradle overturned, and Gelert with a blood-smeared mouth running to meet him. Believing the dog had savaged (savaged, I tell you) the child, Llywelyn draws his sword and kills Gelert. After the dog's dying yelp Llywelyn hears the cries of the baby, unharmed under the cradle, along with a dead wolf which had attacked the child and been killed by Gelert.  Llywelyn is overcome with remorse and buries the dog with great ceremony, but can still hear its dying yelp. After that day Llywelyn never smiles again. (Narrative adapted from a website, maybe Wikepedia.)

(The dog and the wolf do look a lot alike, don't you think?) On that sad note, we moved on to our walk.  It was gorgeous beyond belief, 

This is Ruth using an app that can identify the surrounding mountain peaks after you wave your phone up and down and around and around, and if you can get a signal:

So maybe she could tell you the names of these in the photo, even the peaks obscured by clouds.  I could not:

Paul, meantime, was busying himself getting the lay of the land:

And a good thing, too, because.....

Yes, the walk certainly had its adventurous bits.  But we all survived.  Ruth and I:

And Paul and I, as well:

Well, really, there was no issue about Ruth and Paul's being able to get through it!  

Some heather:

Then, under the protection of the local dragon....

We returned to Porthmadog, went to another fine restaurant where we enjoyed another superb meal. This establishment requires you to sign a form if you want to take your delicious leftover cod in a fishy bag.  I signed!

 It is one of the highlights of my walks to spend time with Ruth and Paul, but today our adventures went in different directions.  Ruth and Paul dropped me off at a slate mine where I had an underground tour and then took the Belineau Festiniog RR back to Porthmadog, and they went to meet a group of friends to walk the Pilgrim Trail, all in the POURING rain.  Tomorrow, the walk south along the coast continues, most likely in the rain, again.