Plan A for today was a hike Snowdon, the tallest peak in Wales. While some clearing was expected, the forecast for gale force wind gusts (50+ mph) at the summit dissuaded us, so we opted to drive over to Porthmadog for a scenic train ride. We pulled into the parking lot for Welsh Highlands Heritage Railway station (1) and was informed that we wanted the Welsh Highlands Railway across town; of course.
We opted for the 3 1/2 hour round trip up to the old slate mining town of Ffestiniog, "The town that roofed the world." After a quick stop for take-away coffee and breakfast to bring on the train (2), the diminutive 2-foot gauge steam train chuffed over the causeway into the station, where men in 19th century top hats and women in hoop skirts milled about. This weekend was "Bygone Days" on the Welsh railway, and some participants were really in the spirit.
On the train, we chatted with a gentleman from Manchester, who had been riding the line since he was a kid. He could not place my accent, probably because my voice was a bit raspy (3). At the eastern end of the causeway was Boston Lodge, where the engines and railcars were built.
The line was originally powered by gravity, with the tiny (but heavy) slate-filled cars rolling to the sea with a man blowing a trumpet or cornet in the front car. The empty railcars were hauled back up by ponies. Many extra trains were running for Bygone Days, even a gravity train with a few people sitting in tiny cars on slabs of slate rolling downhill.
The clearances on the cuts were very close on the narrow right of way. The engine was a Double Fairlie, articulated in the middle to negotiate the narrow curves (4).
The only 360° rail line in the UK (where the train loops over its own line) and a dry stone bridge from the 1830s were pointed out by our companion from Manchester. He also told us his father used to take them as kids to the penultimate stop (with free parking!), from where they would hike down about three miles, then take the train back. Family tradition had the youngest (as early as 4 years old) flag down the passing train, while the rest of the family hid in the station building. The perfect Sunday outing according to his father: cheap and the kids were tired out. He has continued the tradition with his own children.
At Ffestiniog, we saw some peaks of sun, before descending back to Porthmadog
For variety, we took the more inland route driving back toward Anglesey. The narrow road ascended to Beddgellert (5), then through Snowdonia National Park, past grand vistas, with occasional glimpses of the mountain tops. We enjoyed a modest picnic near Llyn Cwelyn with sheep grazing on the shore, while the highlands steam trains hooted through.
We opted for the 3 1/2 hour round trip up to the old slate mining town of Ffestiniog, "The town that roofed the world." After a quick stop for take-away coffee and breakfast to bring on the train (2), the diminutive 2-foot gauge steam train chuffed over the causeway into the station, where men in 19th century top hats and women in hoop skirts milled about. This weekend was "Bygone Days" on the Welsh railway, and some participants were really in the spirit.
On the train, we chatted with a gentleman from Manchester, who had been riding the line since he was a kid. He could not place my accent, probably because my voice was a bit raspy (3). At the eastern end of the causeway was Boston Lodge, where the engines and railcars were built.
The line was originally powered by gravity, with the tiny (but heavy) slate-filled cars rolling to the sea with a man blowing a trumpet or cornet in the front car. The empty railcars were hauled back up by ponies. Many extra trains were running for Bygone Days, even a gravity train with a few people sitting in tiny cars on slabs of slate rolling downhill.
The clearances on the cuts were very close on the narrow right of way. The engine was a Double Fairlie, articulated in the middle to negotiate the narrow curves (4).
The only 360° rail line in the UK (where the train loops over its own line) and a dry stone bridge from the 1830s were pointed out by our companion from Manchester. He also told us his father used to take them as kids to the penultimate stop (with free parking!), from where they would hike down about three miles, then take the train back. Family tradition had the youngest (as early as 4 years old) flag down the passing train, while the rest of the family hid in the station building. The perfect Sunday outing according to his father: cheap and the kids were tired out. He has continued the tradition with his own children.
At Ffestiniog, we saw some peaks of sun, before descending back to Porthmadog
For variety, we took the more inland route driving back toward Anglesey. The narrow road ascended to Beddgellert (5), then through Snowdonia National Park, past grand vistas, with occasional glimpses of the mountain tops. We enjoyed a modest picnic near Llyn Cwelyn with sheep grazing on the shore, while the highlands steam trains hooted through.
(1) In the same location as the Porthmadog Transport for Wales station. The rusty coating on the mainline tracks reminded me that construction on the line eliminated the possibility of a seaside trrain journey today.
(2) My first (but not last) pork pie. Basically a slice of a tube of processed pork product about 2 inches in diameter, tasting something like Spam, surrounded by flaky pie crust.
(3) "Froggy" I said to describe my voice. "Oh, you must be from Louisiana," he quipped.
(4) Two other engines are named Lloyd George and Palmerston. "The dead Liberal Prime Minister class engines," said the man from Manchester.
(5) The "Grave of Gellert" in Welsh. Legend has it that King Llewelyn went hunting one day, leaving his dog Gellert to protect his young son. A wolf (a) attacked the son in his cradle, but was killed by the faithful dog. When Llewelyn returned, he saw the overturned cradle and his dog covered in blood. Assuming the dog had killed his son, the king slew the dog. He was soon brokenhearted when he discovered the truth: his son was safe, and the Gellert had defended the family by killing the wolf.
(a) Wolves are extinct in the UK. "The fiercest animal you're likely to encounter now is a badger or an angry squirrel" a local told us later.
The train arrives at Porthmadog
Distinctive rail propulsion
Around the bend
Period costume, but not hair dye
Cottage accessible only by foot or rail.
William Joyce summered in the cottage in the interwar years before moving to Germany and broadcasting Nazi propaganda as "Lord Haw Haw"
Over the tracks on 360° turn
At Ffestiniog. Note both narrow and standard gauge lines.
Double Fairlie engine
I asked the riders if it was fun; "Great fun" came the reply.
The crew recreated the railcar from old pictures to better understand its function.
The reconstruction raised more questions than answers.
Feeding the engine back at Porthmadog
The afternoon highlands train ready to depart.
Note women in period costume to the right of the engine.
The road and railway near Llyn Cwellyn
20 mph sign at dusk
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