Our base for exploring North Wales was a little caravan in Moel-y-Don on the oft-windswept Isle of Anglesey. There is something about caravanning which unlocks the childhood spirit of adventure in even the most unadventurous of people. Spending weekends in a little Welsh caravan was always a treat, even when the weather proved to be particularly brutal as it so often was. Welsh Caravans are indisputably cosy places made up of comfy blankets, warming cups of tea and the kind of inner glow of satisfaction that can only come from trying to make a stay in one work practically; by getting the gas to flow, by getting the kettle to work and by managing to get a signal on whichever device you happen to have at the time (television, radio or phone). The rudimentary nature of our caravan was its ultimate appeal, an off-the-grid kind of experience where our reliance on technology faded to be replaced by deep breaths of cold and wet fresh Welsh air.
Anglesey is a little island off the northwest coast and connected to the Welsh mainland by the striking Menai Suspension Bridge, was our little escape from the big smokey city of Manchester in England's North West. Our three-hour drive westward meant we swapped rows upon rows of red brick terraced houses and city grime for rolling fields, winding roads and weathered sheep. As we crossed the English-Welsh border, I'd delight in the change in language from English to Welsh Gaelic. Such transitions which herald a change in country, language and culture are always uplifting, the "Croeso i Gymru" sign welcoming you to the Land of the Red Dragon and a deeper sign that we'd left our city stresses far behind us - albeit for just two days each time.
Anglesey may be a little astray from the mainland but it is in reachable proximity to impressive Welsh castles like Caernarfon and Conwy, the delightful Pili Palas butterfly zoo, Mount Snowdon - the highest peak in England and Wales, as well as the oft-quoted Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch - the longest place name in Europe and the second longest in the world. Add to this the craggy cliffs, the striking white bulks of lighthouses, unpronounceable Welsh signage and curious prevalence of wooden spoons and North Wales feels about as far away from England as you would want it to be.
I look back on my time in Wales with much fondness, although I'm almost certain that my emigrating to the Australian Welsh state namesake of New South Wales and becoming an honorary New South Welshman is purely coincidental.
The wonderful South Stack lighthouse on the North west coast of Anglesey. North Wales.
The dramatic soaring rock behind characterful housing in Barmouth. Mid Wales.
Conwy Castle basks in the sunshine foregrounded by a variety of rooftops and chimney stacks and encircled by a hilly green landscape. North Wales.
Anglesey's dramatic Menai Bridge crossing the Menai Straits. I love the turquoise waters in this photograph.North Wales.
A seagull relaxes on a hillside on Anglesey surrounded by flowering daisies. I love the way the daisies imitate the colours of the gull. North Wales.
The dramatic peak of Lliwedd.
