The lake

The journey to Lake Vyrnwy was nothing out of the ordinary, in fact it was pretty quiet and easy going; but then it was New Years day.  There are not many people prepared to travel over a hundred miles in the freezing winter to eat their New Year dinner.

The country side is a different picture during the winter, with minimum foliage and skinny branches poking out of frozen tree trunks in the middle of frost covered fields. The cattle and sheep were still there chomping on whatever grass they could find. This was the picture for the majority of our journey until we entered the B4393, an eleven and a quarter mile road that encompassed Lake Vyrnwy. 

We drove around the lake looking for somewhere to stop to have a well earned hot drink and snack.  We were well prepared with flasks, sandwiches, crisps and chocolate bars.  We had three cars and we managed to squeeze them all on to the little lay-by.

The scenery was beautiful with every tree and shrub encrusted in a white frosted residue; it was like a colossal winter cake coated with icing sugar; not an ounce of green was missed. 

As I was offering drinks and snacks to the rest of the party I spotted a red breasted Robin hopping about between the three cars.  Robins are quite friendly birds so it was pretty easy to take a couple of photos before it disappeared, taking with it whatever crumbs it could fit into its beak.

The air was clean and cold with a typical woodland smell.  The odour from the fungi and rotting wood was ever present because the lake was surrounded by woodland on both sides of the road.  I could hear chirping and scratching about in the trees but couldn’t spot anything but a solitary hungry Robin.

We all spotted and headed towards the arched bridge that stretched out across this man made lake. The lake was built over a century ago when the Valley of Vyrnwy looked incredibly different.  In 1881 a company from Liverpool started work on the arched dam, that we call a bridge, to provide fresh water for their city. They built a 70 mile pipeline that stretched from the lake to finish at Liverpool.

By purchasing 24,000 acres of the surrounding land they were not only able to control the purity of the water; they were also able to maintain the scenic beauty of the area. In the building process they even had to relocate an entire village; Llanwddyn. It took two years to fill the lake with water.  However, the water didn’t manage to reach Liverpool unit 10 years later in 1891.

The water on the left of the dam was very tranquil and moving gradually toward the arches, however, it spewed ferociously out of the dam the right side.  Not all the outlets were open, adding pressure to the ones that were.  The noise created by thousands of tons of gushing water travelling at about 80 miles an hour is very impressive; like a million fire hoses trying to reach the top of a burning building; all at once.

If you stand in the middle of the road and look down the centre of the bridge it is pretty impressive.  There are large pillars strategically placed to be able to support the arches and withstand the force of the water as it squeezes its way through the inlets.

The lake itself is vast and it is difficult to comprehend that it was built, by hand, over one hundred years ago.  From the centre of the bridge the entire lake is captured in a 360 degree view, with white coated trees creating a natural boundary and a home for the local wild life. Approximately 16,000 acres is entrusted to the RSPB as a nature reserve.  If you love the countryside, great views and wild life, Lake Vyrnwy is a delightful place to visit where tranquillity is inherent.

Hidden alongside the Lake is a wonderful sculpture park where characters suddenly appear in front of your eyes.  Every September, sculptors from Britain and around the globe come together to carve these figures for our entertainment. The Sculpture Park is home to approximately 60 carvings containing works from as far afield as Australia, England, Estonia, Finland, Latvia, Lithuania, Norway, Russia, Sweden, Ukraine and Wales.

Lake Vyrnwy is host to the largest modern collection of global sculpture in Wales. 
As we walked along the path that ran through the park the sound of cascading water pounding the large reservoir beneath was ever present.  There is a little overflow stream coming from the dam that runs slowly and silently through the park; it is just wide enough to leap across, if you are adventurous and young enough to have a go. 

The frozen grass sounded crispy as we walked over it.  Mini water falls graced the banks allowing small steady trickles to fall off the icicles and disappear under the footpath.  Little pools of water were completely frozen, popping open as we pressed our boots into them.

Although we were having a lovely time here, it was time to move on to Llanbeder where we agreed to have our New Year dinner.  After a short drive around the Lake looking for the best way out we opted for a single track lane that cuts through the Mid Wales countryside, what a journey we were about to take.

The Mountains
We turned off the B4393 and headed skyward on a single track mountain road.  The mist became dense with every five hundred yards we climbed.  We had reached a point where we could only see a couple of yards ahead. With a treacherous drop on the passenger side this was becoming an adventurous drive through a precarious mountain path.  Lisa, my wife, didn’t share my enthusiasm and excitement; we were in the middle of nowhere, with no map, on a road just wide enough to fit our cars.

The temperature outside had now reached minus eight and visibility was greatly reduced.  The water that had trickled down the hillside previously had covered the road ahead, turning it into a slab of ice approximately two car lengths.  It was too dangerous to reverse back with the visibility so poor so we had only one option left; we were about to go skating. 

I drove the car forward gingerly looking at the drop on my left as I approached the lab of ice.  I decided to accelerate hoping that my momentum would thrust me across without sliding off the edge into the abyss below.  I felt the rear of the car slide toward the edge, regaining its grip as it left the icy surface and met with the tarmac.  I slowed down so I could observe the remaining two cars, hoping they have the same fortune as me. They all crossed safely.

We continued along the path meeting sheep as they casually strolled across the road ahead.  This is a very isolated mountain track where the local farm animals and other wild life would not meet many vehicles.  The sheep showed no fear as they stood in the centre of the road staring at us with a look that said; “who are you and why are you on my road”.

The track ran through huge woodlands that were part of the sloping mountainside.  The trees were empty, stripped of all character by the autumn blast.  With no leaves to shelter beneath or fruit for the wild life to eat; the trees had become semi redundant for the winter.  It was evident that the local spiders were making good use of the branches, showing off their architectural skills by weaving very elaborate webs. The mildew had frozen on the webs creating an elaborate string of jewels that hung from tree after tree.

Smallholdings were dotted along the track allowing the wild fowl to roam freely throughout the land.  This land is hidden deep in welsh mountain territory; the properties were very secluded and solitary with a peaceful atmosphere that was attributed to the echoic tranquillity of mountain life.

We continued along this track for four miles meeting and overcoming the same icy perils.  The serenity of this concealed mountain life remained with us for the entire four miles.  There was a sense of natural existence along the track where everything moved at its own pace. The hustle and bustle of urban or city life was never present; I could have stayed here for ever.

We left the frozen mountains into a blaze of sunshine.  Not a single cloud graced the deep blue sky.  It was like passing through a time warp from freezing winter cold and white frosted woodlands to sunny Ibiza.  The mountains in the distance were as clear as the sheep in the field; no haze, just clarity.

The peak of Cader Idris was visible as we continued along the winding roads that passed through the little village of Dolgellau.  We didn’t stop to take in the view as we were all looking forward to playing on the beach at Barmouth; freezing cold or not, we are going to have fun.

We arrived at the Barmouth promenade looking for car parking spaces.  As we were the only idiots stupid enough to spend New Year day on the freezing welsh coast, parking was not an issue. We chose the main car park that sat beneath the Panorama Walk.

As we got out of our cars we all commented on the extraordinary weather and could not associate it with the time of the year.  If it wasn’t for the strong wind and the freezing chill factor this scene could have described Malta in June.  The typical seaside smell was still there however, the atmosphere was quite different.

As I looked along the beach towards the Snowdonia range, where we had just come from, it felt a little surreal.  With the sun blazing high  above and clear blue sky that filled every inch of my peripheral view, where ever I looked, I half expected hundreds of holiday makers to rise from their bathing towels.  We were the only holiday makers that day.

We wrote Wolverhampton in the sand as large as we could and played football until the wind drove the ball into ocean; we lost it forever.  We dug about in the sand looking for different shells to take back home, or anything unusual that had been washed ashore.  The kids splashed in the little puddles and the adults discussed their appreciation for this spectacular, but rare, winter scene.

After playing stunt man, diving over the promenade wall into the sand below, we decided it was time to move on.  This had been a fantastic few hours on the beach.  Although it was freezing and windy, we achieved just as much today as we would on a mid summer day, having just as much fun; I personally had more.

We joined the A496 out of Barmouth and headed towards Llanbedr.  This was a 7.5 mile coastal journey that passed through smaller villages, such as Llanaber, Talybont and Coed Ystumgwern; now that’s a mouth full.  Unlike the mountain track there were no icy roads or frosty foliage to remind us of winter.

By now everyone in the car was exhausted and hungry.  We put up with the usual mantra from the kids, “are we there yet?” as they had run themselves out on the beach and were in need of food.  My stomach was performing somersaults and growling like a hungry lion.  Lisa (my wife) was relaxed with arms folded, watching the coastal view passing her by.

Within fifteen minutes we were on the outskirts of Llanbedr passing by woodland on our right called Gruffydd price.  The trees were quite bare which exposed the hidden part of the woodland we don’t usually see from the roadside.  A little further, 500 feet or so, we passed another much smaller wood on our left, again stripped of foliage.

After crossing a small bridge spanning the local river and taking an immediate right turn we were at out destination; The Victoria Inn, Llandedr.  The kids perked up in the back of the car asking each other what they might eat for dinner.  I had chosen salmon; out of past experience.  I had eaten here during the summer and had the best piece of fresh salmon I have ever tasted.

After introducing ourselves we were led into an antique lounge room and given two tables which, unfortunately, split the group in two.  We had the adults on one table and the kids on the other.  The fact that the tables weren’t side by side made it feel like we were two separate groups rather than one. 

Communication was difficult when everyone wanted to discuss the fun we had during the day but half our party had their back to us; we managed.  The kids were so hungry they held their cutlery in their clenched fists; reminiscent of Oliver twist.

The smell and sound of sizzling steaks enhanced our appetites.  Tempting meals were placed on tables around us for existing consumers to eat; some were tucking into some artistic looking puddings.  Chocolate sauce trickling down vanilla ice cream, profiteroles on a bed of fresh cream, apple pie buried in a trough of steamy custard and for the kids there was the chocolate mega Sundae in an oversize ornate glass with a spoon as long as their forearm

We had to ask for a menu as we felt we had been abandoned; we had.  The waitress who sat us down had forgotten we were eating and continued with her jobs.  We were finally given a menu and after a little compromise we were ready to order.

Forty-five minutes later our meals arrived one by one.  My stomach growled loader and my mouth salivated profusely with every plate that arrived.  After a couple of delays all our meals had been served and silenced us all; well the adults at least.

There was little disappointment and plenty of empty plates.  A few of us opted to try out their sweet selection after witnessing the dishes earlier.  Again satisfaction was the outcome and our stomachs were full to bursting.  Derek had the post Sunday meal syndrome; he was ready to sleep.

The Victoria Inn was the right venue for a large family meal and to say we arrived, with very little notice, on New Years Day; they accommodated us adequately.  The Inn has a large garden with a river that runs parallel to it; I guess this is where the fresh salmon is caught?

On the whole we have had a fantastic New Years Day that was out of the ordinary and a wonderful precursor to the remainder of 2009.  Although it was freezing cold we all had wonderful time and an experience we will never forget.  Without today New Years Day would have been mundane.  Thank you to all my family and friends who agreed to go through with it and thank you to all those in Wales who accommodated us so well.

The planning for 2010 begins now.