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Here, amid and around the ruins of the medieval Tintern Abbey, the solace and serenity recalled so poetically by William Wordsworth is almost palpable to 21st-century visitors.
“Once again/Do I behold these steep and lofty cliffs,/That on a wild secluded scene impress/Thoughts of more deep seclusion; and connect/The landscape with the quiet of the sky.”
Wordsworth wrote the poem after revisiting the abbey in 1798, at a time when it was fashionable for romanticists to seek inspiration in such picturesque places as this Wye Valley in Wales.
It was the first stop on our 10-day journey by car through the little nation of Wales. Our trip would take us from the abbey to a town filled with bookstores to the places where Dylan Thomas lived, wrote and yes, drank.
Wales (Cymru in Welsh) is 20,700 sq km with a population of 3 million humans and an estimated 11 million sheep.
It is part of Great Britain and shares a border with England to its east. Yet, it is quite different than the rest of the United Kingdom, with a unique culture and language, still spoken by about one-fifth of its people. Welsh is used on all the bilingual road signs, evidence (to visitors, anyway) that the names of places are too long, have too many consonants and are virtually unpronounceable.
Driving in from England, through South Wales to its north-west coast, we found it a marvellous place to visit — maybe Britain’s best-kept secret.
Weather permitting, that is. Soggy is generally the most accurate description of Welsh weather, with rain a possibility at any time, winter or summer.
From Tintern, we travelled north to Hay-on-Wye, the town with the appropriate sobriquet, Town of Books. Hay features more than 30 secondhand bookstores, including Castle Hay Books, which sells some of its wares on the honesty system (just leave the 30 or 50 pence) as well as Murder and Mayhem, Bookends, Boz Books, Cinema Bookshop, and Outcast, tucked away behind a side street of a side street.
We had arranged a one-night stay in a bed-and-breakfast (Gwely a Brecwast in Welsh) irresistibly named Rest for the Tired, and next door to a bookstore, of course.
The bed-and-breakfast was our home of choice on this trip, made simple by the help from the numerous information centres throughout Wales (just follow the dotted i signs), which aided with directions, local restaurants and sights and, for a small charge of US$3.50 ($5), arrange your accommodation reservation anywhere in the United Kingdom. Ours cost US$104 to $121 a night (for two), with the typically hefty breakfast of cereal, fruit, eggs, bacon, sausage, tomato and coffee or tea and toast.
There seem to be few straight roads through the hills and mountains, so we meandered south from Hay-on-Wye, through the mid-Wales Brecon Beacons National Park, a magnet for hikers and bikers, to South Wales, the more populated of the Welsh areas.
The valley here was at one time the heart of Wales’ coal mining communities. But it’s all gone now, replaced by farming, forestry and tourism, and an occasional sign for a local mining museum.
This part of South Wales is Dylan Thomas country. Schools here are named for the favourite-son poet who was born in Swansea. There is a Dylan Thomas Center in a museum in Swansea, and in bookstores, his writings are outnumbered only by the books about his life.
According to local lore, Thomas did much of his drinking at pubs in Mumbles (Mwmbles in Welsh), just to the south of Swansea. It is a splendid spot, enticing strolls along the promenade, stopping for ice cream or a light lunch outdoors at Verdi’s or dining at Castellemare with its magnificent view.
Of course we had to visit Laugharne, a little north and west of Mumbles, where Dylan Thomas lived with his family.
We then found our way to Aberystwyth, where we parked the car and hopped on to a train for a three-hour trip north. Trains are a great way to see Wales, if you can be flexible enough to adjust to railroad schedules. Ours followed the rocky coast, with its stretches of sandy beach where campers set up, past seaside village and farms with gambolling sheep and grazing cattle.
We were back in Aberystwyth for dinner. Homeward bound, we recalled the farewell refrain from the Welsh we had met.
“Did you enjoy your stay here? Come back and see us again. And tell your friends too.”
And we did. - TODAY/ra
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