The cry of the gull for a vacationing family has mostly pleasant connotations: you're by the sea. Their song recalls stories of boats and fish and of salty sprays of ocean water. Conwy surely has the gulls!
I wake up to brilliant sunshine! It's not your typical coastal rainy day. It's stunning to the core! (View out my window just after sunrise...)
Stepping outside, I am momentarily reminded of Islay. Those gulls! Perched prettily on rooftops, adding their white feathers to the tableau of slate colored roofs and on this day -- to perfectly blue skies. (Here's our little rental in Conwy...)
Of course, these birds are not quiet residents of coastal shores. We think they sound awfully much like the cry of Sparrow when he wakes up from a nap or crawls under a space that's too tight for him.
Was that Sparrow? -- I'll ask during the boy's nap.
I don't know.
I think it was a gull.
Maybe. I can't tell!
Too, there are the gull droppings. The cars outside? Splattered. The lovely patio? I wouldn't want to eat our breakfast on it. Not before a good scrubbing. Which will last about three hours before a new wave of birds flies overhead.
Again I offer to find breakfast treats. Stepping out of our little house, I look to the left: a church courtyard, a few gravestones, the castle in the background.
Back to the High Street of Conwy. I see children are still on their way to school. I suspect it's their last week before the term is over.
(Looking down toward the water's edge)
(even closer to the little harbor...)
The principle bakery in town opens at 8:45, so I walk around a bit, inspecting this, checking out that, picking up packs of beautiful berries at the grocer's.
At the bakery itself, I'm a little overwhelmed by the sweetness of the selections. I've always thought the British had an incredibly strong sweet tooth for sugary confections. Their bakeries seem to offer no compromise: it's either savory or very very sweet.
But here's something interesting -- Welsh cakes. Sort of a cross between a pancake and a biscuit. With raisins. And sugar of course.
Purchases tucked into my sack, up the hill I go. Here's a square that some would regard as the center of town. The French would spill out tables onto every surface. But of course, the Welsh haven't always been blessed with good weather. Sitting outside would be a rare event here. And habits differ from those on the continent. They say when good weather rolls in, people buy pouches of fish and chips and eat them on the old town walls.
Breakfast.
Well now, here's a funny surprise! The boy who still generally seems to prefer mush to solids, who loved his crowdie (Scottish cheese), and lip smacked his way with bits of fish from the seas around us, now is delighting in his little Welsh cake.
You could say that both kids are in fine spirits!
All ready to go on the day's adventures!
Still, between naps, playtime, visits to toy stores, candy stores, between clean ups, showers and laundry -- the morning is gone. Travels with a wee one (Sparrow) often mean that you can't really get going until lunch.
So we begin with lunch at Amelie's, a lovely upstairs spot bathed in sunshine.
The women who serve food are sweet and kind. We get our dishes quickly.
They fuss. Sparrow is balking at his own mush. They try to make him a happy camper. They give him biscuits.
Say good bye to good foods. Sparrow has fallen in love with these little shortbread cookies.
He is adamant. Nothing will make him happy except one more bite of cookie!
Well, okay. Snowdrop can still make him smile.
Sister and brother, navigating the waters of travel together...
And now for our real explorations. We walk down toward the water...
And onto Castle Conwy, of course. Built by Edward I (during the 13th century), it was an important fortification for several hundred years, before being stripped down of its might and allowed to crumble. In the 19th century, it was a magnet for painters, who saw in it something far grander than fallen stone walls. These days, it's a tourist attraction. UNESCO views it as an outstanding example of military architecture. So, worth a visit for sure, for its historic significance, its artistic appeal, and of course, for the views it provides!
Let's walk up together.
(looking out toward the bay...)
Some of us are ambitious. To the top!
Some of us -- less so. Meandering among the walls and chambers has its appeal!
(In the gift shop, Sparrow decides that swinging a wooden sword is tremendous fun.)
Snowdrop picks up a little character who then becomes part of her extensive afternoon play, which includes many castle stories of course.
And then the parents take off on a mini side trip to a library. They'll be gone just 24 hours. Gogs is with these two!
Slightly more busy than usual. Fewer photos, more minutes of play. Lots of minutes spent discussing the washing machine with the owners: it's not rinsing. We have loads of wet, soapy clothes.
By evening, we do take a little adventuring walk. I pack Sparrow into an ergo-carrier and the three of us head for the water.
(Passing by the smallest house in the UK, so they say...)
It's a no-go. The tide is low, but the "beach" is muddy and certainly not fun to walk on. We retreat.
(View of castle from the water's edge...)
For dinner, we go to Johnny Dough's Wood-Fired Pizza. I'm a bit apprehensive. Sparrow's been resisting some of the British food pouches. He can be a pretty stubborn little guy!
In fact, it's an astonishingly beautiful meal, proving once again that the things you worry about usually are not the things that knock you down.
Several memorable moments: the Welsh family with the daughters who also liked to draw at the table. The mom who came up to me and said -- lovey, your shirt is unbuttoned in the back. Would you like me to fix it for you? (Who knows how long it had been that way...) The older family who asked "where are you from," only to get my usual "United States" followed by "north of Chicago" followed by "Wisconsin," for those who push me on it. These people pushed me on it, perhaps because they themselves were from La Crosse. That's in Wisconsin, in case you've not heard of it. Snowdrop piped in -- actually, I live in Middleton and had a nice conversation about the virtues of her small community. I do business there, the fellow traveler told her. She wasn't surprised... She loves her little Middleton.
Perhaps what was most impressive was that between the two of them, the kids ate a whole grownup pizza. Snowdrop decided not to mind that it had tomato sauce (she prefers hers white) and Sparrow was thrilled to be eating what she was eating.
The day draws to a close. The sun wont set for a long while, but the two little ones are used to that by now. The day has been so full of sunshine and warmth! They fall asleep to the sound of gulls. Squawk, squawk! A seaside good night.
I wake up to brilliant sunshine! It's not your typical coastal rainy day. It's stunning to the core! (View out my window just after sunrise...)
Stepping outside, I am momentarily reminded of Islay. Those gulls! Perched prettily on rooftops, adding their white feathers to the tableau of slate colored roofs and on this day -- to perfectly blue skies. (Here's our little rental in Conwy...)
Of course, these birds are not quiet residents of coastal shores. We think they sound awfully much like the cry of Sparrow when he wakes up from a nap or crawls under a space that's too tight for him.
Was that Sparrow? -- I'll ask during the boy's nap.
I don't know.
I think it was a gull.
Maybe. I can't tell!
Too, there are the gull droppings. The cars outside? Splattered. The lovely patio? I wouldn't want to eat our breakfast on it. Not before a good scrubbing. Which will last about three hours before a new wave of birds flies overhead.
Again I offer to find breakfast treats. Stepping out of our little house, I look to the left: a church courtyard, a few gravestones, the castle in the background.
Back to the High Street of Conwy. I see children are still on their way to school. I suspect it's their last week before the term is over.
(Looking down toward the water's edge)
(even closer to the little harbor...)
The principle bakery in town opens at 8:45, so I walk around a bit, inspecting this, checking out that, picking up packs of beautiful berries at the grocer's.
At the bakery itself, I'm a little overwhelmed by the sweetness of the selections. I've always thought the British had an incredibly strong sweet tooth for sugary confections. Their bakeries seem to offer no compromise: it's either savory or very very sweet.
But here's something interesting -- Welsh cakes. Sort of a cross between a pancake and a biscuit. With raisins. And sugar of course.
Purchases tucked into my sack, up the hill I go. Here's a square that some would regard as the center of town. The French would spill out tables onto every surface. But of course, the Welsh haven't always been blessed with good weather. Sitting outside would be a rare event here. And habits differ from those on the continent. They say when good weather rolls in, people buy pouches of fish and chips and eat them on the old town walls.
Breakfast.
Well now, here's a funny surprise! The boy who still generally seems to prefer mush to solids, who loved his crowdie (Scottish cheese), and lip smacked his way with bits of fish from the seas around us, now is delighting in his little Welsh cake.
You could say that both kids are in fine spirits!
All ready to go on the day's adventures!
Still, between naps, playtime, visits to toy stores, candy stores, between clean ups, showers and laundry -- the morning is gone. Travels with a wee one (Sparrow) often mean that you can't really get going until lunch.
So we begin with lunch at Amelie's, a lovely upstairs spot bathed in sunshine.
The women who serve food are sweet and kind. We get our dishes quickly.
They fuss. Sparrow is balking at his own mush. They try to make him a happy camper. They give him biscuits.
Say good bye to good foods. Sparrow has fallen in love with these little shortbread cookies.
He is adamant. Nothing will make him happy except one more bite of cookie!
Well, okay. Snowdrop can still make him smile.
Sister and brother, navigating the waters of travel together...
And now for our real explorations. We walk down toward the water...
And onto Castle Conwy, of course. Built by Edward I (during the 13th century), it was an important fortification for several hundred years, before being stripped down of its might and allowed to crumble. In the 19th century, it was a magnet for painters, who saw in it something far grander than fallen stone walls. These days, it's a tourist attraction. UNESCO views it as an outstanding example of military architecture. So, worth a visit for sure, for its historic significance, its artistic appeal, and of course, for the views it provides!
Let's walk up together.
(looking out toward the bay...)
Some of us are ambitious. To the top!
Some of us -- less so. Meandering among the walls and chambers has its appeal!
(In the gift shop, Sparrow decides that swinging a wooden sword is tremendous fun.)
Snowdrop picks up a little character who then becomes part of her extensive afternoon play, which includes many castle stories of course.
And then the parents take off on a mini side trip to a library. They'll be gone just 24 hours. Gogs is with these two!
Slightly more busy than usual. Fewer photos, more minutes of play. Lots of minutes spent discussing the washing machine with the owners: it's not rinsing. We have loads of wet, soapy clothes.
By evening, we do take a little adventuring walk. I pack Sparrow into an ergo-carrier and the three of us head for the water.
(Passing by the smallest house in the UK, so they say...)
It's a no-go. The tide is low, but the "beach" is muddy and certainly not fun to walk on. We retreat.
(View of castle from the water's edge...)
For dinner, we go to Johnny Dough's Wood-Fired Pizza. I'm a bit apprehensive. Sparrow's been resisting some of the British food pouches. He can be a pretty stubborn little guy!
In fact, it's an astonishingly beautiful meal, proving once again that the things you worry about usually are not the things that knock you down.
Several memorable moments: the Welsh family with the daughters who also liked to draw at the table. The mom who came up to me and said -- lovey, your shirt is unbuttoned in the back. Would you like me to fix it for you? (Who knows how long it had been that way...) The older family who asked "where are you from," only to get my usual "United States" followed by "north of Chicago" followed by "Wisconsin," for those who push me on it. These people pushed me on it, perhaps because they themselves were from La Crosse. That's in Wisconsin, in case you've not heard of it. Snowdrop piped in -- actually, I live in Middleton and had a nice conversation about the virtues of her small community. I do business there, the fellow traveler told her. She wasn't surprised... She loves her little Middleton.
Perhaps what was most impressive was that between the two of them, the kids ate a whole grownup pizza. Snowdrop decided not to mind that it had tomato sauce (she prefers hers white) and Sparrow was thrilled to be eating what she was eating.
The day draws to a close. The sun wont set for a long while, but the two little ones are used to that by now. The day has been so full of sunshine and warmth! They fall asleep to the sound of gulls. Squawk, squawk! A seaside good night.
How ironic: earlier, just this week, I was going through my parents' stuff as we close out their apartment, and I found an enormous box of photos and souvenirs from a trip to England we all made in 85, also part business part pleasure. One of the highlights for my twelve-year-old self was the castle, and I bought a cardboard model of that castle, the assembly of which took up much time when we returned because I insisted on doing it all myself. In that box this week, I found the instructions for that castle, and I sat a while thinking about it and how much I loved it (the castle and the model). And then, this morning, I read this...
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