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Heavy rain’s expected. But it hasn’t arrived yet, and C and I set out on the bus to Pwllheli. This is the end of the (railway) line, and the town has an old-fashioned look, with cafés, working chapels, bookshops and…
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Wales Coast Path, day 60: Harlech to Porthmadog
Five gather at Porthmadog station: C, H, me, and two guests, M-A and J. Sunshine beams through the roof of the elegant platform, and the three-carriage train arrives to take us to Harlech. Its manager is as friendly as we’ve…
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Wales Coast Path, day 61: Porthmadog to Cricieth
Dusk on Saturday. We’re in Cricieth, two days after UKIP’s ‘Independence Day’. Explosions sound outside the eccentric seaside apartment we’ve rented for the week (it features a very public bath in the front bedroom window, and an impudent fish, Billy…
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‘Me, myself and I’ (slight reprise)
Since writing about Billie Holiday’s song Me, myself and I, the question of ‘who is I?’ has been gnawing away inside my mind. A couple of weeks ago I picked up a second-hand book in Thirsk that’s turned the gnawing…
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Gwallt
Bues i mewn parti ychydig wythnosau yn ôl mewn tŷ yn Abertawe – fel mae’n digwydd, heb nabod fawr neb ymysg y gwesteion eraill. Dim syndod yn hynny: mae perchennog y tŷ’n adnabyddus am ehangder ac amrywioldeb ei gylch o…
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A Coxwold tomb
Philip Larkin’s poem ‘An Arundel tomb’ – the one that ends with the much-misinterpreted line ‘What will survive of us is love’ – starts with this stanza: Side by side, their faces blurred, The earl and countess lie in stone,…
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Dolgun Uchaf
Digwydd bod yn adal Dolgellau y dydd o’r blaen, ac angen lle dros nos mewn gwely a brecwast. Yfory roedd Ras Cadair Idris am ddechrau, felly ychydig o weliau oedd ar gael yn yr ardal. Roedd y dewis cyntaf a…
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Wales Coast Path, day 59: Tal-y-bont to Harlech
Back to Penhelig station, for the last time. C and I are on our own today. We’re planning, as the climax of the week, to make a grand ceremonial advance on Harlech, in pale imitation of Owain Glyn Dŵr’s successful…

