Jack, Merry & The Trumanator: Forty-Eighth Post From Türkiye: The Great British Road Trip, Part Three

Wales
After we got our Celt on in Cornwall, we had to visit the land of some of my forefathers: Wales. Wales is simply beautiful, the people are friendly, and it's a treat to hear them speak (English) in their musical accents. It's also full of the historical remnants of the English-Welsh border wars, and the environmental blight of the Industrial Revolution. But, Wales is a foreign country. Seriously. It's so bizarre to be in Great Britain, and hear all the people around you speaking in a language you don't know.

Tintern Abbey
Ole Henry VIII really did a good job of dissolving and appropriating the assets of the monasteries in his kingdom after he broke with the Catholic Church. Tintern Abbey, a Cistercian outfit formed in the 12th century, is on the Welsh-English border, and, luckily, you can at least get an idea of how it must've looked in it's heyday.

A rare sighting of Merry...in the ruins.

St. Fagan's National History Museum

You all know we love a good, open-air folk museum. St. Fagan's, near the capital Cardiff, had a variety of old houses and churches, as well as an old-tyme carnival.

Trum Trying to Win a Prize at the Coconut Toss

Remember the good old days, when you could spend the evening watching a cockfight?

Every museum needs to come complete with a traditional, working bakery, though Trum went too far with giving my gingerman bunny ears.

Aberdare

After spending time in the Cardiff area, we drove up to Aberdare. This was the town where my great-grandma Green's father, Jonah Evans, mined coal at Powell's Coal Pit for three years in the early 1860s, before immigrating to America. The mine was finally closed in the 1970s, the area was cleaned up, and the Dare Valley County Park was established on the grounds.

An Old Mine Car

Unless you look closely at the torn-up hills in the background, it's hard to tell that there used to be a mine here.

Brecon Beacons National Park

North of Aberdare are the Brecon Beacons mountain range, and associated national park. The south of the park is famous for it's many waterfalls. It took a lot of navigatin', wanderin', and ragin', but we finally found this waterfall, which I believe is Sgwd Clun-gwyn ('Lower Fall of the White Meadow').

So pretty that it looks fake.

Offa's Dyke

After Brecon Beacons I decided we need to see Offa's Dyke, which is an old earthwork that marks the boundary between Wales and England. It has traditionally been attributed to Offa, the 8th century king of the Anglo-Saxon Kingdom of Mercia. I mean, the dyke itself is mostly just a pile of dirt, BUT, if you walk along it's edge, you can be like Trum and simultaneously stand in both Wales and England.

Machynlleth

We camped that night near a town called Machynlleth. Why there? First of all, it is the southern gateway to Snowdonia National Park, the most beautiful place in a beautiful country. Second, it was where Owain Glyndwr, a Welsh prince who rebelled against the English, held the first Welsh parliament in 1404. Third, just outside Machynlleth is the little cottage of Bron-Yr-Aur...

Rolling Up the Tent

Bron-Yr-Aur

Surely you have all heard of Bron-Yr-Aur ('Breast of the Gold'). In 1970, Jimmy Page and Robert Plant of Led Zeppelin rested from their latest world tour by staying in a derelict cottage that Plant's parents had frequently vacationed at in his youth. Here they wrote many songs that ended up on Led Zeppelin III, including "Bron-Y-Aur Stomp"(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zISiQ6PqATI), as well as tunes like "Bron-Yr-Aur" (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fCAFq9oSxdk) from Physical Graffiti. Merry and Truman like Zeppelin and all, but they were not stoked enough to join me in a hike up a narrow mountain road to find the cottage. They stayed in the parked car at the bottom of the hill, while I started up the steep little path. After 30 sweaty minutes or so I arrived in front of the cottage. I had heard it was unoccupied, but turns out it is now some sort of organic farm/hippy kids' camp, or some such. Go figure. Any who, I quickly snapped a pic and headed back down the mountain, before they thought I was there to spy on their doobie patch.

This Way to the Breast of the Gold

Owain Glyndwr Parliament House

Back in Machynlleth we stopped by the Owain Glyndwr Parliament House, which was really just a good excuse for dressing up in medieval garb.

Blaenau Ffestiniog and Llechwedd Slate Mine

In the middle of Snowdonia National Park is a town called Blaenau Ffestiniog, a traditional slate mining center, and a bit of an eye-sore. It's true that all the slate "tips" make it look like a post-industrial wasteland, but it is also home to the Llechwedd Slate Mine, a great place to take a tour and understand how hard the miners' lives were.

The mountain in the background is made of waste from the slate mine. So crazy.

Slate "Tips"

Merry and Trum Preparing to Enter the Bowels of the Earth

After he gave a short demonstration, the guide asked if anyone wanted to try to hang on a chain the way the miners used to when working on a wall. Truman jumped out of the crowd and showed off his skills. Out of the two or three who tried, I think he did the best. It must be the Welsh miner blood in him.

At the end of the tour, we were shuttled into a shop where there was a fella splitting slate, and where you could buy all things slate. The slate-splitter (in the red covies below) was quite a speaker. He basically had everybody in the crowd ready to help the working men of the world shake off their chains after 15 minutes or so of oratory. I mean, he was wearing red.