A Journey Down Memory Lane

There is no memory that stands out so clear in my mind as the one of my family and I sitting on the Tal-y-Llyn (pron. tallithlin) train with our friends the Cipins, precariously balanced on a rusty train track pressed into the steep and brambled mountains of Tywyn (pron. towin), Mid Wales. Back then, the steepness of the mountains, the smells of burning coal, the sounds of the engine, and the thickness of the brush were all accentuated by childish imagination, burnt into my mind as an abstract memory obscured by feelings rather than actual recollection. This time, however, sitting on the same carriage I sat in half a lifetime ago, it was as if my wild memories had come into sharp focus. The sounds, smells and visions were all there, but had been finely tuned into a tangible reality as opposed to a larger-than-life dream. In other words, the beauty remained but my interpretation of the beauty was different. I don't know if that makes any sense, but it was how I felt as my dad, his cousin Anthony and I sat on the train as it chugged up the mountainside from Tywyn to the village of Abergynolwyn.

As I have mentioned, the railway that leads up the mountain is quite steep. One might almost think that the train could fly backwards at any point because of the angle of the incline plus the weight of the passengers, but it never does. From the carriage, it is possible to see a magnificent variety of terrain. Clusters of sheep graze in the field, worn and wiry fences bend sadly over the track, lines of trees create crisscross impressions on the otherwise flat and grassy farmland, and colourful mountains loom whichever way you look. According to my dad, the mountains of North Wales were cut by large glaciers during the Ice Age. Subsequently, the lower portion of the mountains is quite steep since they've been cut by erosion, while the higher areas, untouched by the sandpaper effect of the glacier, remain relatively flat. It is due to the unusual shape of the resulting valleys that they are called "Hanging Valleys".

At the end of the line is a town called Abergynolwyn (pron. aberganolwin). It is situated in a valley so deep and isolated that it is even impossible to receive a cellphone signal. Half way up, Anthony actually sent my mum an email from his cellphone, but once we reached Abergynolwyn it suddenly gave out. Despite the lack of certain technology in the area, it is a very beautiful little town with a lot of charm. We stopped in a pub called The Railway Inn (what else?) almost as soon as we arrived and sat down to a filling lunch of jacket potatoes (the most delicious I've had in ages), brown beans, veggies and sausages. The funny thing was, we had promised Grandma, who had decided to stay at home, a proper meal of sausages that night since the night before, Anthony had accidentally bought chicken for dinner rather than sausages. And seeing that we had gone to The Railway Inn especially, we couldn't very well turn down a traditional British meal. Thus, in the end, we wound up having two full sausage meals in one day (though Grandma doesn't know!). Even so, we managed to polish both meals off and probably walked off all of the fat we put on.

I forgot - I haven't even talked about Aberdyfi (pron. aberdovey) where we have been staying! Well, for those of you I haven't told, in Aberdyfi we have a bungalow shared between my grandma and her four children. It has been in the family for years and has always been a place we can come to escape from the hustle and bustle of daily life. A fishing port and tourist town in Mid Wales, it is located directly on the Irish Sea and is the place where my parents first met. I guess it goes without saying that this little town of 850 has a deeper meaning for our family than for the average tourist. It is probably the one place where I feel separated from the rest of the world. Things that concern me back in all other places fade away here simply by standing on the sandy beaches and watching the rhythmic movement of the white waves creeping in and out of the estuary. It is truly a lovely place and I feel it is a shame I cannot access a computer at the moment to share the experience with you. Nevertheless, I will post when I get a chance, though the magic of the moment will have passed by then.