Snowdon Camping: Part 2
|Molly enjoys canoeing|
When we returned Richard’s dad Cliff had arrived and had already pitched beside us, we brewed some fresh coffee and herbal tea for everyone and then they went off
to explore the site, it being a first visit for Cliff, while Andrew caught up on much needed sleep having only slept four hours the previous night. Ray and I did some housekeeping and I found I was famished by midday, at home I rarely get so hungry, but out here ravenous, we cooked up some brown rice noodles and veggie curry and thoroughly enjoyed our first main meal of the camp. Julian and Jazz were next to arrive setting up their tent to make a semi circle and hanging colourful bunting between the tents, the flags fluttering in the breeze made a lovely sound, like light rain on the tent skins.
We spent the afternoon dangling our feet over the grassy river bank and watching the antics of the craft launches from the bank that indents perfectly for this purpose. Julian and Jazz took their old town canoe out and Molly made it clear that she was expecting a trip out with them, being a dog accustomed to river trips.
As evening fell we lit a wood fire, Gwynant campsite provide metal fire pits plenty for everyone even on the bank holiday there were enough to go round, you must only burn the wood sold at the campsite though, £5 gets you a large bag which you pick up from a van parked near the shower block and entrance from about 6 – 8.30 pm, kindling or no kindling, each bag will last on average one night, we cook on ours too and sometimes use just over a bags worth.
|Richard M enjoying chopping wood|
We don’t need kindling in this family as Richard M really enjoys chopping wood using any of the many axes or machetes or otherwise tree felling equipment this family seems obsessed with presenting each other with come birthdays and Christmas’s, I think menfolk and womenfolk of this family and Richard M (honorary member), would have a good chance to fare well if there should ever be an apocalyptic type of event, there is even a Samari sword in the family, real, not imitation, that’s because we all need one of those when we go shopping on Saturday, maybe useful in apocalyptic Britain shopping though?.
|Dutch oven cooking|
We cooked food and chatted the evening away until the logs glowed red and charcoaled in their embered state and sleep overtook us, the stars as always took our breath away, I can think of no nicer way than to say good night than to gaze into the heavens and be witness to the majesty of the universe laid out above.
The night temperatures can drop in minutes around Snowdon, the day itself had warmed considerably, the wind had even combined to give us all a touch of sunburn, we had not been aware of the effect until too late, but temperatures now had plummeted and so on going to bed I was wearing my thermal hat, socks, PJ bottoms and two vests, but even though it was so cold I had to lace my shoulders liberally with Green People after sun lotion as they were now protesting against the sudden exposure to sun and wind, the peppermint molecules hitting my nostrils however were deliciously comforting, as I drifted off to sleep I could faintly hear the sound of the river which mixed with the singing of the trees as the night wind picked up rustling their leaf laden branches, this was the prelude to the rain which was to fall heavily in the night. When I awoke I was enchanted to hear what I thought was a man nearby singing to his children, he had an English accent but was chanting like an Australian aboriginal, ‘Heheyo Heyeyo waking up see the day that is happening around you’, I heard an owl hooting then I realised just how wonderfully well I had slept and how comfortable I was, I felt my hubby lying beside me the familiar feel of his arm alongside mine, making me feel secure and complete.