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Gwynant Valley, Bridge 1892
Gwynant Valley, Bridge 1892 Ref: 30169
Memories of Gwynant Valley, Bridge
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Arthog A memory of Arthog, Gwynedd From early 1960s onwards: At school in London we had 2 summer holidays at Min-y-Don. The first time we travelled by coach, we got lost and arrived in the dark. The following year we came by train from Paddington. We had to change at Gobowen and Ruabon, arriving late in the afternoon. My pals and I spent all our time exploring the area, on one excursion we were dropped off at Abergwynolwyn and had to make our way back over Cader Idris. Two of us lost our bearings slightly and arrived back nearer to Dolgellau than Arthog and had to thumb a lift home. Probably wouldn't be allowed now. Walking one evening a farmer pulled up in his Land Rover and roped us in to helping him get a cow out of a ditch. That was when I learnt my first words of Welsh. After this we left school and my mate worked for a travel company which enabled him to see the world and I worked as a long distance driver so was able to see the UK. But ever since that time one or other of us went to Arthog every year on a sort of pilgrimage. One particular year Id just got back from a holiday at Arthog only to find the first day back at work I was loaded with 16 ton of plasterboard for Dolgellau. A few years before that, just before the railway closed we timed our holidays together so we could hitch hike up to Arthog where we slept at the station for a couple of weeks courtesy of British Railways. The goods engine from Penmaenpool used to come past at 6-30 a.m. waking us up to be able to get out before the 7.20a.m. from Paddington came through. We'd meet the stationmaster as we walked over the bridge to get our breakfast in Davy Jones Locker. Have a few photos of Arthog and the station as well as Mawddach Crescent and the junction. Memories of sitting in the bar at Morfa Mawddach late into the night, listening to the tales of a Peter Don driver who lived at Fairborne, known as "Lofty". There was a camping coach at Morfa Mawddach station. A sad day when the station was pulled down. Also memories of an art exhibition held at Mawddach Crescent. There was a cafe at one end of Arthog terrace, a B&B in the middle which I stayed at once and a post office at the other which sold colour postcards of the village and the lakes. My wife and I still pay a visit to Arthog a couple of times a year as we live not so far away for the last 20 years. We sometimes have a meal in the George III at Penmaenpool. Interesting to see the Arthog Barns conversion, I would love to live there but I don't think it will happen. I have travelled all over the UK and Ireland but I keep coming back to this place, it doesn't seem to have changed all that much. Last edited: 19/01/2008 15:24 by Alan Spillett |
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 Barmouth, the Shopping Centre c1960 (ref: B22304) |
'The Rock Shop' 1960's A memory of Barmouth, Gwynedd I have many fond memories of Barmouth. My parents, 2 brothers and myself spent our holidays in a caravan at Williams'. No T.V, gas light (those damn mantles!) but what wonderful times we had. We would go 'over the beach' at night armed with shrimping nets and scour the rock pools, climb over those huge rocks and cross the railway track and stroll back to the caravan to eat our chips. Does anyone remember the little girl dressed in Welsh costume giving out samples of rock outside the Rock Shop? Happy Days !! Posted: 29/10/2008 19:07 by Madelaine Wicklen |
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Year: 1946
The Plas Mynach Llanaber road A memory of Barmouth, Gwynedd 60 odd years ago Plas Mynach was de-requisitioned from war service. I worked for a Mr Hamblin from Birmingham, he had purchased the building to reopen as a hotel after we had refurbished throughout. All food stuff was still on ration so we kept a pig, ducks fowl etc, and scoured the district farms to buy eggs, butter and the odd lamb, all very hush hush in those days. The work was very hard, from 7.30am until 9pm was quite common. I well remember the new white cinema with a tin roof, when it rained you could not hear the sound track. What has happened to Plas Mynach now, I have many memories. Last edited: 24/06/2008 09:12 by Derek Hyde |
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Year: 1940s
MY PARADISE A memory of Barmouth, Gwynedd Way back in my childhood, brothers two and then plus me, Mom and Dad said let us pack our bags, and go down to the sea, Down to the railway station, our entourage did go, Comic books within our hands, cause, four hours, they went so slow Now as the train pulls into town, his whistle he did blow, To warn the people off the tracks, so he could pull in, real, real, slow When we had helped to pitch the tent, and all was most secure, The three of us crossed the promenade, to play upon the shore We walked a little way and saw, men making pictures in the sand, And sitting close a Harpist, playing songs of this Welsh Land At evening time, we`d walk to town, buy fish and chips in a pack, And as the old saying goes, twas a finger lickin snack. We came upon the harbour, what a lovely sight to see, All the little pleasure boats, bobbing gently on the sea, One year they launched a new lifeboat, it was emotional for me, To hear throngs of people, sing the sailors hymn, for those in peril on the sea. I turn my back upon the ocean, see the mountains tall and fine, I used to think God put them there just, for me to climb, Then when you climbed those mountains, and looked out across the Bay. You saw two shining beacons guiding sailors on their way. When I became much older, and a nurse I did become, I lived there for a little while, till my training was all done, Then I met my lifetime partner, and to a new land we did sail It was hard to leave our loved ones, but we kept in touch by mail. Now as the years have come and gone, every day thoughts come back to me, Of that little town I love so much, nestled on the Irish sea. So if it is as some folks think, our souls come back this way, I will beg and plead, down on my knees, for My Paradise on the Bay Last edited: 15/04/2008 18:03 by Mary Miles-Geary |
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Year: 1975
The best of times A memory of Fairbourne, Gwynedd My Mum and Dad first brought me to Fairbourne when I was born in 1966. My father and his father before him had been coming to the same bungalow (Min-y-Don on the Coast Road - Penrhyn Drive South) all their lives. Mum Dad and my sister visited Fairbourne every summer till I was 16. What happy memories. Each morning we would walk to the bakery for bread rolls - I can smell them now. If the weather was fine we played on the beech, went rock climbing or took the little train to the Barmouth ferry. Each year we did the same trips, to the butcher in Dollgellau, stopping off for a coke and a packet of crisps at the George III in Penmaenpool on the way back. Maybe a trip to Aberdovey to go crabbing from the pier, or a day spent at Harlech castle. But the highlight every year was a walk to the Blue Lakes where we bounced stones across the water. I can still remember the much smaller yellow lake, which I presume has gone. Happy, carefree days - test match special, candy floss, welsh lamb, football on the beech. I am going back with my kids -I hope they love it as much as I did. Posted: 29/05/2008 16:31 by William Cock |
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