LLANGOLLEN. Steam Trains & Rains.

LLANGOLLEN. Keeping a watchfull eye on things.

Right, so I had a choice. It was a Saturday a week ago and there’s few things worse than a Saturday going to waste. However it was raining, I mean RAINING. So it was either stay in and watch the raindrops tumble down the windowpanes while counting the minutes before bedtime or be brave, put on the big coat ( Northern England term used to describe clothing worn as protection against any form of weather from a mild shower up to and including erupting volcanoes and the arrival of the four horsemen of the apocalypse ). I chose the latter.

LLANGOLLEN. Like it says on the wall, old signs and old times.

As it was a day more for travelling than walking I decided to tick off something I’ve been meaning to do for a long time. Ever since it’s opening in the late ‘90’s I’ve been meaning to ride on the Llangollen Railway, a re-opened stretch of line in North Wales, once part of the route from Shrewsbury out to Barmouth on the Welsh coast. Yes one of those routes that would have been a godsend to today’s tourist industry as well as very possibly taking cars off crowded roads in the area. However, cleverer minds than mine thought otherwise so a valuable part of the rail network was closed in the 1960’s.

LLANGOLLEN. Sheltering on the platform with a warm drink from the buffet and keeping an eye on the big station clock. Straight ahead was once the route out to Chester, alas no more.

My route was trains down to Wexham via Chester, then a brisk walk down from Wrexham’s General station to the bus station. It’s roughly a half hour run into Llangollen, out through a cluster of villages. The top deck of the bus gives a fine view of Saturday morning life bustling on, though on this day it was more a case of dash out, grab the shopping and dash back to the warm and dry.

I’d booked a Llangollen Railway rover ticket for the day, give me a chance to meander about, or get as wet as possible given the conditions. I arrived at Llangollen with about an hour to spare so I did the coffee and big beef roll thing to dry out a little before walking down to the station which is in a fantastic location by the River Dee, which at this point tumbles madly over a series of rapids on it’s way to Chester and the Dee Estuary.

LLANGOLLEN. An angry looking River Dee throws itself over the rocks as it passes through the town by the railway station.

Llangollen originally was in the territory of the Great Western Railway, the Victorian one not the later imposter and many of the buildings features date from that era. Walking around I felt I should have opted for the tweeds and sensible brogues to fit in better with the ambience of the station. The trains were being powered by either diesel or steam locomotives working alternate services. The whiff of smoke and steam that lingers around a station is a heady mix. The line as recently as this June has reached the new terminus in the village of Corwen where a new station had to be built by the volunteers. The remains of old routes lie in undergrowth around and about like iron age barrows. Routes up to Denbigh and Rhyl on the coast are overgrown and forgotten relics now, the Barmouth line bridge demolished leaving the route stopping short of what was it’s own station, the building repurposed.

CORWEN. in the driving rain Austerity tank engine 68067 takes on water for the return trip to Llangollen. Summer in Britain can sometimes be very testing.

Weather notwithstanding the were plenty people out and about braving the unkind weather. Had it been even the slightest bit dryer Corwen’s position by the River Dee and the landscape threaded with walks would have been a joy to explore. Sadly the heavy rain made it more for a brisk explore and a drop into a nearby cafe. It was annoying not being able see more but it was a useful visit to book mark things for future reference.

CORWEN. Old trades still exist on Bridge Street.

CORWEN. Proper shop fronts, a bit of style in an increasingly identikit world.

CORWEN. The rain tumbles down as the Harp Hotel tucks itself into the corner for shelter.

CORWEN. The Church of SS Mael & Sulien keeps itself aloof from the street.

CORWEN. The Owain Glyndwr Holtel, shelter on an unfriendly day.

CORWEN. Well washed by the rain 68067 waits patiently for the return journey.

CORWEN. A rainy day would make a real fire very welcome.

The time of my return train wound around and I headed back to Llangollen, notes were made and I landed back with time enough to spare for a reviving pint at the Bull in Llangollen. Annoyingly the rain had worn itself out and sunshine was beginning to peak out here and there. Well that’s the British summer for you, if you waited for it you would never leave the house. The trip back was the same as going only in the other direction and passed quickly and quietly back to home base, hot shower and a chill out for the rest of the evening.