Day 18 (part 1) – Goodbye Mum

We left our intrepid travellers at a restaurant with rooms, a weird, pokey old rabbit warren of a house boasting a pretty impressive kitchen.

The water pressure in the shower/bath is not great, but the water does come in hot and cold so that’s pretty good as outside it’s a little brisk, aiming for a maximum temperature of 9.

Back into the restaurant for breakfast, a bit of a fruit, juice and yogurt buffet with a full breakfast menu that really takes the cake. There are choices, choices and more choices. It’s easy for L, they had a yummy offering of smoked salmon and scrambled eggs practically calling out her name, but I was in a quandry. There were a number of set choices,  or I could make my own full breakfast through any combination of eggs/bacon/sausage/black pudding/mushrooms/laverbread/tomatoes/… I eventually settled for all of the former, minus the sausage. Out came a plate of awesome. Not sure where i thought that laverbread was more of a bread or cake, but it turns out to be just boiled seaweed. It tastes exactly like boiled seaweed, not so great as a standalone dish but complemented the bacon nicely. Good black pudding, rich and yummy. And tea. A good fortifying breakfast.

Today we say goodbye to our silent traveller, Mum. Snowdonia has always been a special place for her, and it just seems right to go for a drive around this magnificent national park, taking in the incredible mountains and valleys, appreciating this rugged area both with our own eyes and on behalf of mum.

Ome places are difficult to describe, haarder to photograph, and are really just there to be experienced. To look in one direction and see snow-capped mountains rising abruptly, partly obscurred by clouds. Then to turn slightly to see the incredible valley. To see water appearing to pour from the rocks, and in places up high be blown into spray. I can see how for mum, as a kid growing up in the suburbs, amid rationing and rebuilding, travelling out to such a place could be something life-shapingly special.

I can see why she settled for moving to Captains Flat, just out of Canberra, in a bid to recreate this ideal, of mountain streams, cloudy days, cold nights. I’m not sure why she didn’t just move to Wales, but perhaps that was a step too far, being too far away from children and grandchildren, from her adopted land, or something. Maybe because the exchange rate has generally sucked. It doesn’t really matter. She’s here now.

Thanks to L’s patient and unnerving driving amid narrow roads, cliffs and rain, we found this place, longitude 53.06772, latitude -4.00432, where the view is breathtaking. Mt Snowdon is in view, along with a number of other impressive peaks, as well as an incredible valley stretching down Llyn Gwynant, a beautiful lake. It was there that I scattered half of Mum’s ashes, where she can forever enjoy the view.