My Fickle Heart (Part 3)

I feel the need to further justify my fickleness... also, I need an excuse to post the pictures of our last morning in Wales. Before we headed back to Oxford we decided to walk up the smallish mountain (large hill?) that overlooked the house where we stayed. The sun was shining, the weather was warm(ish), and the view was, once again, spectacular. How in the world is one supposed to return to places like suburban America after seeing sights like these?

Is it just me, or is Will even more handsome in Wales?

What a view (double entendre intended).

The three amigos.

Bryan shamed us all by literally running up the mountain.

My Welsh travel buddies.

I don't think I could ever get tired of a view like this.

And that, folks, is Wales. I am deeply committed to a long distance relationship with my new love and hope to visit again this summer. Unless, of course, we go to Ireland instead...

My Fickle Heart (Part 2)

Where did I leave you...

Right. Hiking down Cader Idris soaking wet.

We returned to the car, cranked up the heat, and set out for Aberdovey--a small seaside village with a most beautiful coastline. Our drive took us through sheep fields, over a mountain ridge, and along the coast.

The sea!

Aberdovey was charming. Of course it was--this is Wales, after all! We warmed ourselves by a radiator in a little tea shop (Louise and I sat on the radiator in the tea shop), drinking tea and eating soup until we were mostly dry and warm enough to venture back outside and wander the shoreline for a few miles. I want to go back there once the weather warms up and just sprawl in the white sand for days.

The rows of colorful houses reminded us of New Orleans.

The signs in New Orleans, however, are slightly more intelligible.

Indulge me in a little Lyle Lovett... "If I had a boat..."

What a view.

Louise, standing in a very slow sink hole: "In two hours, I'll be a goner!"

Wales agrees with us.

Aberdovey at dusk.

My Fickle Heart (Part 1)

Remember when I professed my undying love for Scotland? I swore that it's rugged coastline had won my heart and that I might have to break up with Oxford and go steady with Edinburgh instead.

Well since I can't commit to anything I promptly fell out of love with Scotland and in love with Wales two weeks ago, when we spent the weekend in that gorgeous country with two friends from church. How could I not? For starters, there's Welsh.

I don't even know where to begin...

If we end up stranded on this mountain we will die, because we can't read the help sign.

We entertained ourselves for hours trying to pronounce this unpronounceable language. Who knew that the double L made a phlegm sound in the back of the throat?

Welsh language plus Welsh terrain? Amazing. I don't even care if I can't read the help sign and die on the mountain because by golly I'll go out with the best view.

Beautiful, even in the rain.

On our way up Cader Idris. I'm smiling because we haven't hiked into the rain cloud yet...

Just us, lots of rocks, and the sheep on the mountain today...

...because the wind and rain are out of control!

But we made it!

Got a picture? Great. Let's get the heck off of this mountain.

Just in case you suspect me of being overly dramatic (who? moi?), here is the memorial stone of a runner who DIED on this climb. Running kills. I've stopped.

We made it to the top of Cader Idris despite the driving rain, strong wind, slippery rocks, and overall unpleasantness because we were too stubborn to quit. I would love to go back and make the climb again in better weather; according to Google Images, this is what Cader Idris would look like in sunshine:

The sun did decide to make a slight appearance on the hike down, and the view made the soaking wet jeans totally worth it.

Wales, I love you.