I'm spending a month in Manchester, UK this summer at an economics workshop. On the way I managed to fit in a quick three day trip to Wales. I landed at Manchester airport at 7AM without getting much sleep, and promptly caught the train west. My destination was Caernarfon, in Northern Wales. This pleasant little town is known for its amazing castle, one of many in the area constructed as part of the English King Edward I as part of the "Iron Ring" that kept the local Welsh under control. I found a great little hostel called Totters inside the city walls near the castle. My goal was to spend the afternoon wandering around and try to keep awake until at least 8 so I could adjust.

At about 6, the owner of the hostel, Bob, randomly invites me out on a boat trip, since I'm the only one around. Him, his mate, and I set out on this little dingy into the bay. We promptly start drinking, while they roll cigarettes and dodge sand bars. It turns out we were going to deliver toilet paper to Bob's buddy's daughter who is camping with her boyfriend across the bay. When we finally get to their camp, we sit around the disposable BBQ that is standing in for a camp fire and drink a few more beers. At this point I've been up for 32 hours without sleep, so it's a little hard to keep up with the conversation, especially since about half of it is in Welsh, which apparently everyone in this area speaks. Regardless, I felt damn lucky to be sitting around a camp site in Wales drinking beers with the locals less than 12 hours after leaving New York!

The next day I explored the castles (which, of course, I love). Here are a few photos of that.

I also check out some old Roman ruins on the hill above town, but they aren't very interesting. As usual, I failed to book lodging ahead, so I get kicked out of my hostel and have to truck over to the larger town in the area, Bangor, for the night. Bangor turns out to be a fairly nice town, but pretty quiet since the large university is not in session.

The highlight of my trip comes on Saturday, when I wake up to beautiful weather (a rarity here) and decide to go climb Mt. Snowdon, the highest mountain in Wales or England. Its not technical, but is a challenge. Sir Edmond Hillary actually trained here before his trip to Everest. I have to ride the bus up to Llanberis, then hit the trailhead at about 9:30 and start climbing. The nice day has brought out plenty of others hikers, so I just follow the crowd, since I don't have a map (or even boots).

After about an hour of hiking/climbing I get to the tuff part, a razor thin ridge with drop-offs on either side. The technique here is to throw one leg over each side, squeeze your thighs, and shimmy along.

These pictures are looking back at the ridge I just crossed.

After crossing the ridge I fall in with a group of Brits who are friends from school. They are visiting their Welsh friend Quinn, or just Q, who is their guide. He insists that I join them for the full Snowdon horseshoe, "a real classic". This is about twice as long as I was planning on going, but he offers me some of his homemade turkey, cheese, and jam sandwiches (real Welsh jam) so how can I say no?

Near the top of Mt. Snowdon, the weather changes quickly, with pea soup fog blowing in. Luckily, it doesn't last long, and after some more sandwiches and a couple of sips of celebratory whiskey, we head down the other side.

At this point it becomes obvious that our guide Q has absolutely no interest in trails. He leads us on a random bushwhack over about the next five or so miles. We cross bogs, the thick welsh grass, a couple more small peaks, chase some sheep, see a couple mountain goats, hike on top of a water pipe, etc. Finally, exhausted by 8 hours of hiking, and running low on whiskey and sandwiches, we finally emerge from the hills right in front of a pub, where we enjoy an welcome beer. Even better, this is the pub where Hillary planned his Everest expedition and its chock full of climbing memorabelia. After our long day we feel like we fit right in.

Well, after all this excitement, its back to work for me. Manchester here I come.