TRAVEL|WALES
I Soaked up History for a Day as Well as Rain and Mud
My Solo Day at St Fagan’s Farm, Castle and Village
Lwazi mentions St Fagan’s Farm in his enchanting story about Wales. Wales is truly beautiful and is much more than green valleys, sheep and coal mines.
I recalled I had spent a wonderful, wet, windy day at St Fagan’s Farm a few years ago.
Llandeilo
We had been staying at the White Hart Inn, a lovely country pub in the village of Llandeilo. After a full Welsh breakfast, we set off to Cardiff with enough food in our tummies to last throughout the day. The day started off with a misty rain — visibility down to just a few metres at times. Thank God I wasn’t driving — I couldn’t see a thing! I was determined to visit St Fagan’s Farm despite the inclement weather.
St Fagan’s Farm
My niece Kiryn dropped me off and then headed into Cardiff to check out several accommodation options. My sister Lorelle headed to Cardiff Castle and Elizabeth hit the shops for the after Christmas sales, not that she can fit anything else into her suitcase! Does that tell you how different our tastes were in travel?
The rain had eased to a drizzle so I donned my poncho and map and headed off down the village lane past some farmhouses, an interesting circular pigsty built from stones and the corn mill until I got to the sheep to whom I gave a friendly hello. Baa-aa-aa-aa.There was no one else here at all. Can you blame them?
Then up the woodland path, through the creepy forest to the even creepier Celtic village. Not a single person was in sight and I hesitated before peering into one of the darkened huts. You guessed it — there was a guy sitting just inside the door who scared the living daylights out of me. I think he was equally scared by my scream!
I waded through muddy pools in snow boots (not too good on slippery ground, but much better than my sandals, at least I had dry feet) to the tannery, the pottery and kiln and the old church.
Sadly, most of the old-fashioned shops were closed for business, but the general store was open so I bought some chocolates in the shape of animals, clotted cream fudge, rum and raisin fudge and a jar of Christmas spiced marmalade.
I checked out the iron-workers cottages and their backyard vegetable gardens, the photography studio (closed), the school-house, the gate-house, and the bakery (closed) before it started to really come down in bucketfuls so I hightailed it back to the warmth and dryness of the café where I had a freshly baked muffin and a large latte for £2.95.
St Fagan’s Castle
As soon as the rain had eased, I ventured out to explore St Fagan’s Castle (really a large manor house) and its walled gardens and hothouses where I managed to trap myself in a back corner with no shortcut so I had to find the way I had come in, to be sure of not getting lost.
Rain began falling and the skies were darkening rapidly and the whole place had suddenly become deserted so I headed back to the café. They were about to close so had all the chairs up on the tables and were mopping the floor so I sat just inside the front door until they too were closing up, then waited outside until Kiryn arrived to collect me.
It was the longest 20 minutes of my life. The internal lights were all turned off and the staff left. Luckily I had rugged up well so wasn’t cold, but I was relieved when I spotted our car driving through the windy, rainy darkness.
