Visit Caernarfon Castle in Wales in a Hired Motorhome.

Caernarfon Castle.

Caernarfon is the most famous Castle in Wales. The Castle was built by Edward the first to encompass the Kingdom of Gwynedd.

Merlin the Magician, prophesised that a descendant of Cadwallader, the last Welsh King to wear the crown of Britain, was a legendary King, and a leader of the Celts, myths and traditions say that he was King Arthur. He would rise to power and begin the slaughter of foreigners. Merlin was the illegitimate son of a monastic Royal Princess. His father was an Angel who had visited the Royal Nun. Merlin’s enemies claimed his father was really an incubus, an evil spirit that has intercourse with sleeping women, the evil child was supposed to provide a counterweight to the good influence of Jesus Christ on earth. Merlin fortunately was baptized early in his life, an event said to have negated the evil in his nature. The story may have been invented to save his mother from a scandal which would have occurred had her liaison with Morfyn Frych the freckled Prince been made public.

A farmstead in Llyn Y Gabair.

Snowdon Mountain Railway.

Phemie and Jessie had decided not to accompany their men-folk on the little train to the top of Snowdon. Jessie had said;

‘You two tramps can go oan yer wee choo-choo. Me an’ Phemie will sit here an’ have a cream tea, isn’t that right, Phemie?’ said Jessie.

‘Sure, Jessie, sure, Jessie,’ said Phemie.

It was when the lads were sitting in the open-air carriage on their way back down the track that things developed. They were enveloped in clouds of black smoke, soot and ash coming from the smoke-stack of the engine.

‘Och, well, Francie, this is a good opporchancity tae sample yon two cigars I’ve been savin’ for such an occasion. Will ye join me, Francie?’ asked Josie.

‘Sure, Josie, sure, Josie,’ said Francie.

The lads lit-up their cheroots and were puffing away merrily in tune with the smoke-stack. A little silver haired lady suddenly reached up and pulled the emergency cord. The train came to a juddering halt and the conductor came huffing and puffing to the carriage.

‘Who pulled the cord?’ he asked.

‘It was me,’ said the old lady, ‘Those two gentlemen are smoking,’ she said.

‘Smoking’s not allowed on my train,’ he said to the lads.

‘But the bliddy driver’s smokin’,’ said Josie.

‘Oh, and that’s another thing,’ he said, ‘Bad language isn’t allowed either, get off my train,’ he said.

The lads found themselves on the pathway alongside.

‘Och, here they come, Phemie, like a couple o’ bliddy coal-miners hame frae the pit. Let’s sip up oor gin an’ tonics an’ we’ll head back tae the Motorhome,’ said Jessie.

‘Whit happened tae ye two eejits? Ye’re baith as black as soot?’ asked Phemie.

‘Och, we goat chucked aff the wee choo-choo for smokin’,’ said Josie.

Visitor Centre.

Joe Sharp.

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