Rocking at the Aqueduct...

At last British summer has gone against type. The sun has come out, a Brit wins Wimbledon and England wins the Ashes. We just need snow on Christmas Day and Jeremy Clarkson to take up riding push bikes and I will start to believe in miracles.

Before the fireworks......Sue, Martin, Kellie and Myles

So the setting for 'Under the Arches' music and lighitng event at the rather unique Poncysyllte Aqueduct on Friday could not have been better. Although the action started at 7pm there was various musical entertainment from early evening. We arrived at 8pm to settle ourselves down with wine and beer and a bottle of something refreshing for our designated driver, my sister Sue. Children had set up impromptu games of footie and adults were already well settled after various portable repasts and enjoying the music. A happy atmosphere abounded in anticipation of a great night.....

The aqueduct was was declared a World Heritage Site in 2009. 'So what?'I hear you ask. Well, other World Heritage Sites include the Taj Mahal, The Great Wall of China and the Pyramids, so it is in illustrious company. Having grown up with this Telford-built structure (which has 19 arches rising majestically over the valley at a height of 126ft) it's sudden fame was somewhat of a surprise to locals. A bit like discovering your naughty little sister is secretary of the United Nations........ But we are all kind of proud of it.

As the last of the daylight left, lasers and coloured lights started playing across the stately arches. An excited Myles (10) and his equally excited Nan (over 10) speculated on another light which was hovering red and green light in the sky above the crowd. This turned out to be a remote controlled camera taking arial shots, but was none the less exciting for that....

Then suddenly 2 huge fans of flame burst out as the music from Limited Series and later The Big Beat played along. The light and fire show gained momentum and culminated in some lively fireworks over the stage to end the show at 11pm.

As we trailed back up the hill amongst the excited, chattering crowd homewards, I wondered what that maverick Mr Telford would have made of it. Would he have baulked at this intrusion into the usual stately serenity of this valley of the Dee? I don't think so.......I think he would have been rocking along with the rest of us....

A Day to Remember

On a glorious April Saturday in the middle of the magnificence of Snowdonia our beautiful daughter Natalie (Tali) married her wonderful fiancée, James Ware.

We had our doubts about lots of things that they wanted to do - the remote venue, the bright green and yellow colour scheme and the huge guest list of friends from all over the world, but they did it their way. All the planning, discussing, ordering, speculating, inviting, beautifying, emailing and telephoning finally paid off and it all magically came together to become a truly memorable day.

It had been an exciting time and for months myself, Peggy and Mum have been sourcing the right outfits, hats, handbags and shoes. It's not been easy. What on earth can you wear to a wedding on a campsite, in a barn and on a field? I made my plans clear right away; I have only one daughter and I was going to be in full 'mother of the bride' regalia. So hats were to be large, shoes high and handbags decorative. So Peggy and Mum followed suite and both looked quite wonderful.

Correctly guessing that sleeping in bell tents was not a good accommodation choice for her grandmas, Natalie had sourced a lovely country house hotel nearby. Peggy and Mum were able to relax in lovely surroundings and over the weekend had the opportunity to sit up talking with other wedding guests. One night being asked to switch off the lights before they went to bed as it was past midnight.

Other members of the family stayed in holiday cottages nearby, this meant that I had my sisters, their children and my son, his partner and babies all close at hand. The fun we had socialising together, walking and talking before the wedding was a real time to remember.

As Saturday dawned - (the fixing up of the barns, setting up of the 5 tier cake I had made, the bars and booze, a very special marquee, bunting and the arranging of what seemed like 20,000 daffodils had been completed the day before by an army of friends) it was clear that it was going to be a gloriously sun-drenched day. The morning of the wedding the men went walking with the babies and the rest of us sat with the bride discussing whether she could get her vows out without crying with the emotion of it all. My son's partner Nina a yoga teacher was able to calm the bride with an impromptu session.

Then all too soon it was time to travel the 2 miles to the venue. I was resplendent in purple and the aforesaid large hat and felt rather like royalty as we swept into the car park to see so many smiling faces.

The ceremony went well with no tears...well that's not quite true. My son Nathan gave the performance of his life with a poem containing so many warm references to their gregarious Liverpool life that all of us had to reach for the tissues (even the registrar). It was particularly poignant for so many of the guests as Natalie and James have for the past 5 years run a household which was always buzzing with people as they held parties, Carol Singing sessions and dinner parties. This day not only marked the beginning of their lives together, but also the leaving of Liverpool and this crowd of friends as they start their married life in Copenhagen.

Mum, Peggy, me and Natalie on her beautiful Wedding Day-
memorable for all the right reasons

Then man and wife made their exit down the aisle skipping hand in hand to the riotous cheers and stamping feet of their guests. Outside to the accompaniment of their friends The Loose Moose String Band and they expressed the joy of their union by dancing on a nearby hillock as we sipped Prosecco and cheered.

The rest of the day passed in a delightful haze of music, food, drinking, dancing, cheering and talking. Some highlights - the father of the bride's speech (a huge success after a lot of nervous planning), the stamping of feet to encourage the bride and groom to kiss on the table top, all the men in the room lining up to kiss Tali when James left the room (a Danish tradition), the band playing four hours straight and the atmosphere of joyous partying as strangers and friends were united in their happiness for the couple as we danced until our feet ached.

It was lovely to see Mum and Peggy enjoy themselves with their families around them. Widows for many years, I wonder if they each missed their husbands? I pondered sadly how proud Noel and Gwyn would have been of their granddaughter. My dad would have loved the occasion's quirkiness and the socialising and Gwyn would have loved the venue and the presence of his small great grandchildren. Then I wondered whether of all the weddings Mum & Peggy had attended in their long lives whether this one will remain in their hearts and their memories as special? I rather think that it will......

All photographs  Alice Myers

Shopping for the Siege....

Winter has bitten and snow is seeming to fill up the small valley of Wrexham. After anxious phone calls we establish that we are able to pick up our mothers for their regular date with us for Sunday Dinner. It always amazes us how, having lived through wars and and seen the deaths of so many of their friends, our elderly nearest and dearest have a tendency to believe the worse can befall us and them at any time. This fear gets more intense if you add a little bit of snow, rain or travel to another country. Why, we reason to ourselves, when they have reached this grand old age safely would they think anything bad is going to happen to them now? But I guess the memories of past losses is precisely their their reason....

I must admit, I was so stumped as to where we were going to go this afternoon that I even put an appeal on Face Book. The snow, although light, was constant and it was clear that driving anywhere to see the beauty of snow covered hills was not an option. But apart from my sister's suggestion that we go snowboarding, my appeal went unanswered. I was thinking jigsaws, perhaps a movie or even play cards... ("don't like cards" my mother's usual refrain came to mind immediately and I rejected that idea).

Well wrapped up

So himself goes to pick them up so that at least we can all have a hot and enjoyable meal together. Vests, warm jumpers, good base layers, hats, fully lined fleeced jackets, scarves, gloves and boots are donned ready to walk the 3 yards to the car then and 3 yards along the salted path up to Merrivale.

On arrival, Mum provides the solution to my dilemma. Her kettle has broken and she wants another one and will probably need more food...Never one to turn down an opportunity to stock up the pantry, Peggy agrees - and so it is settled.

Again, we done more clothes than strictly necessary as himself drives them up to the door of the supermarket. Thirty minutes later we emerge with all the essentials necessary for a month long siege when responsible for the feeding of a small army and oh yes, a kettle too.

Stocking up just to make sure......

Another successful Sunday. Entertainment was provided by them with their tales of the winter of 1947 ..... "Call this snow? This is just a sprinkling and the country comes to a standstill now in 1947....." they have lived through so much.

Ride to Rhug

Sometimes an outing is about the destination and sometimes it's about just sitting in the car and not doing much when you get there.... As the temperatures lower and the trees show increasing signs of winter's approach, our outings need to be carefully thought out. Do we shop or do we drive?

But today's destination was a bit of both, although it has to be said that we probably would not drive for the 22 miles there and the 26 miles back were it not for the beautiful sights to be seen along the way. Rhug Estate is worth a visit, but if you are not interested in good food and organic meats you may just arrive and wonder what to do.... (Just to set things off on the right footing - and not to upset our Welsh speakers it's pronounced 'R-Heeg'.)

Take the A525 out of Wrexham and turn left at Llandgela onto the A5104 for about 12 miles and turn right onto the A5 which passes Rhug. 

 It used to be a place that we passed on the road on day trips to the very popular Bala Lake - Wales' largest expanse of water. Selling large bison burgers to the hoards of motor cyclists who used it as a meet (or should that be meat?) up place. It still has a rather beautiful stainless steel bison which has been abandoned where this action used to take place. For now, the other end of the car park has gone trendy...  

Apparently the Rhug Estate itself covers 12,500 acres from Gwyddelwern to Carrog to the east and encompasses a 2,500 acre organic farm. The estate also has let farms, forestry and cottages. Traditional sporting includes shooting and fishing and modern such as rally car driving, gorge walking, mountain biking and canoing. So, the handsome new organic farm shop is, as you may expect, well designed and built with all that the passing cars of crumblies who pass on a Sunday afternoon may desire.

We can't resist the wonderful meat and try not to screw up our faces at the eye watering prices of our wares. But the tea in the Bison Grill helped us revive and the service was delightful.

The route home is back onto the A5 and through Corwen. Again, the route is lined with trees and autumnal colour growing more intense as the dusk gathers. Now that the clocks have gone back, our Sunday afternoons are somewhat shorter. This route has the added interest of having strong associations with that Welsh anti hero Owain Glyndwr. But I am sure we will meet him again on these pages and we must get home as it is getting dark.....

Groovin' at the Grosvenor

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The ubiqitous British  Garden Centre

 

An observant alien, travelling around Britain, should they have the ability to glance out of the window unfettered by the concerns of driving, might think that the average Brit could only survive but a few minutes without access to plants, seeds and trellises, such are the large number of Garden Centres dispersed around both rural and suburban areas. Equally, one might seriously come to doubt what a garden actually contains should they venture inside. For anything from slipper socks, glass baubles and bookmarks to teddies, key rings and feather dusters can be found within.

But what a joy such places are for those who find themselves with an hour or two to spare with two lively old folk as your companions. Like many towns, Wrexham has a large number of such places within a few minutes drive and most of them make for an entertaining Sunday afternoon. So it was that we set off for one of the grandest of them all, The Grosvenor.

On the very outskirts of Chester, this extravaganza of the shopping experience is the epitome of the best shopping you can have without spending any money...for it is a very rare Sunday that the grannies buy anything (apart from their habitual friendly banter on whose turn it is to buy the tea!). But that does not stop any of the enjoyment of our time there.

Watching out for the Duke....

Grosvenor is a common name for buildings and hotels around Chester for it is the family name of the city's most famous rich lad - the Duke of Westminster. He owns the estate (and quite frequently resides in) Eaton Hall in the freakishly strange village of Eccleston (I swear that in my entire life I have yet to see one person walking through its picturesque streets). So one always fancies that he will be at his namesake Garden Centre buying petunias for his borders...but we wait in vain.

But the Grosvenor is a feast for any eyes. Even in October, the shelves are heavily laden with Christmas fare. We all agree that it is far too early for this. It's not even Halloween yet! Keep Christmas in December, that's what we say.....

Despite this homage to commercialism, if you look hard enough, you might even find some plants too! No, that's not fair, the plants and advice on gardening have a great reputation; but as my ventures into the garden are rare, I am probably not the best person to be reviewing that section.

But today we have the added treat of a Craft Fair. We spend a pleasant half hour admiring their wares and trying to avoid catching the eyes of the various knitters and woodscratchers behind each stall. I buy a few Snowdonia Watercolour prints and the grannies cross question me closely about my extravagance.

Over tea at the Orangery Restaurant our conversation drifts to what we are going to do at Christmas ...

Autumn Drive

Chirk, Glyn Ceiriog, Llangollen
and the Horseshoe Pass -
a delight in the autumn

This drive is just wonderful all year round, but one I tend to take at that time of year when the trees are trying to make up their minds whether to hang onto their summer garb for a few more weeks or to change for the winter.

Peggy, my mother in law, loves all things floral - including trees. One of our regular topics of conversation is the vagaries of the British weather and the affect onset of the seasons have all that we see on our Sunday afternoons.

This drive begins on the ubiquitous A483 the road which, to my chagrin, I have lived within a few hundred yards of all my life. Take the slip road off to Llangollen and then right at the roundabout and take the A539 which takes you through Rhosymedre - not the most beautiful of locations it has to be said, but the Country Park at Ty Mawr is very special and well worth a visit on another day, but not on this drive. Turn left at the T junction to Chirk. This takes you into this little village which on another day is a pleasant place to stroll around and perhaps visit the NT's Chirk Castle.

But go through the village and you come upon a sign to turn right to GlynCeiriog. The B4500 is one of the prettiest roads in the area. Take your time along this road, which flirts and dances with the little River Ceiriog on the route. Here our conversation turns to comments about the relative 'browness' of the trees making up our minds about whether Autumn really is on its way or not. The village of GlynCeiriog itself marks the end of this lovely tree lined route and the place where the ride gets rather hairy. Take the sharp narrow turning right by the shop and wind your way past the little cottages - careful now! At the top of this windy narrow road you come to a T junction. There is a sign to Llangollen left but ignore it and turn right. Look to your right and you will see amazing views over the valley. After a mile or so take a left which will take you down the steep slopes through pine woodland towards Llangollen.

Away from the rural lanes you reach the busyness of the the town dubbed 'Where Wales Welcomes the World' as it is the home of the International Eistedfodd. Turn right over the bridge and once over the bridge turn left towards the notorious horseshoe pass. Any of the pubs such as the Abbey Grange or The Britannia along this route welcome you for meals or even afternoon tea..... but we know of somewhere better so keep going.

After the slow hairpin bend after which the pass is named, you will reach the delightfully untrendy Ponderosa Cafe at the top of the Horseshoe Pass - incredibly popular, but easy to muscle in between the bikers and other grannies to get a bargain cup of tea at the bargain price of £1.

Suitably refreshed, turn right out of the car park (more fabulous views in front of you) then right again at the roundabout and right at the lights towards Llandegla. We drive past Llandegla Forest this on this particular drive but again another good place to go - although it is really for bikes as there are lots of trails through the forest.

We pass what I personally name 'Mum's Reservoir' as Mum usually recounts how she used to keep a careful eye on this stretch of water when she was little girl. She was worried when her parents happened to mention that the reservoir was low. She imagined a drought and eventual death if the water ran out.....

Local people always take a right at the Moors Inn to go through Gwynfryn rather than straight onto Bwlchgwyn which has the somewhat dubious claim to being the highest village in Wales - at 333m above sea level. If you have time, you can stop at the War Memorial at look at the view over Wrexham and the Cheshire plain beyond. Then into Coedpoeth - home of many bakeries.

Mum's brother Frank used to say that if you were on a bike from this point onward you could reach Wrexham town centre without once having to pedal... I afraid I have never been brave enough to find out if he was right. So here in the comfort of the car we finish our journey back into the town and home...

Grannies & Sundays...

So what do you do with two elderly ladies on a Sunday afternoon once Sunday lunch is over? The  initial idea for this blog came about because we have been going out on Sunday afternoons for a number of years now. I wanted to record where we had gone and what we had done with those hours between Sunday lunch and tea so that we were never out of ideas.

Then I realised that we have built up quite a stock of suitable places to go, all within driving distance of Wrexham, suitable for their relative ages and with a good cup of tea at the end of it....So perhaps our little 'Sunday adventures' will be of interest to others.

'Nice under glass' refers to our optimism as we sit under the car windscreen  in the face of the freezing temperatures and howling gales that make up the climate of the Welsh borderlands!

This blog which will be full of ideas for leisure drives, sometimes we have a gentle walk, sometimes we do a little shopping and although we are (hopefully) still stuffed from the Sunday dinner - we usually end our trip with a cup of tea. It will also record tales of travelling with the wit and wisdom of two people who have seen and experienced more than I will ever know.