“A lost Englishman in Wales” — Redux
A hitchhiker’s guide to Llangollen
I’m re-releasing this article for many and varied reasons and perhaps none more so than as a celebratory end to a number of articles that became chapters within a self-published book of which I’m immensely proud and, as “A Lost Englishman in Wales” is the very final chapter of the book, I thought it highly appropriate this should act as a final promotional communique for a rambling musing on life. It was the greatest of days. It was the longest of days. It was a strange day of going completely wrong yet ending up oh so very right.
Here follows a 2 year old piece of writing from a 3 month old self-published book and a special edition on a special day for a lost fool in the land of my fathers.
*All images are from my personal collection*
Friday 29th July 2022
“A lost Englishman in Wales”
and hitchhiking via a canal boat!
Let me tell you a story.
I realise the written word can never really convey the personal human emotions stirred by the kindness of a stranger, or of a man who has trumpeted and coined his own mantra this Summer of “Well you can’t go wrong walking along a canal!”, or the meeting of a fellow Liverpool fan and sharing some smile filled minutes reminiscing on how lucky we are to have been bathed since childhood in the one true Red faith. Nor how humbling it was to traverse, both by foot and then fortuitously by canal boat, the magnificence that is the world heritage site and highest canal aqueduct in the entire world, the Pontcysyllte Aqueduct. Sometimes things go wrong. Sometimes a stubbornly handsome man will walk in the wrong direction, for 3 miles, along a canal. But sometimes life smiles upon you, you hitchhike aboard a canal boat for an unexpected treat and whereas the best laid plans have gone awry, I’d stumbled upon an even better one.
So please allow me to tell you a short story, of a nixed 18 mile walk because it was far, far too long to be replaced with an error strewn 16 mile magical mystery tour which also includes hitchhiking 3 miles aboard a canal boat named “Liberty Lilly” and for roughly 45 minutes, having the time of my life.
But first, I bet you haven’t hitchhiked aboard a canal boat!
After stumbling upon the beautiful “Staircase” type canal locks of Hurleston near Nantwich, and the commencement of the Llangollen Canal earlier this month, I quickly reasoned that I must arrange a special trip to the other end of the canal and in effect, “top and tail” the 46 mile stretch of canal that winds its way along and across the border between England and Wales. I originally planned to treat myself to a train journey to Chirk before disembarking to the nearby canal and the long walk into Llangollen and the end/beginning of the same named canal. Further investigation confirmed this walk to be at least 9 miles and so a 18 mile round trip and that was deemed too rich for my walking shoes, but please keep in mind the number of miles and the rising tally as we progress.
All will become evidently ironic shortly.
So Plan B was enacted.
Rather than just a canal walk I reasoned, why not drive to the magnificent Chirk Castle, take in the 8 Centuries of Welsh history and then drive the 3 extra miles I would’ve walked anyway, to the centre piece of my canal stroll, the Pontcysyllte Aqueduct, and then walk from there to my end point of Llangollen? 4 and a half miles, 9 mile round trip — perfect. With a little more investigation it seemed a mere hop, skip and a tiny jump to “Horseshoe Falls” and voila, I will have book ended the entirety of the Llangollen Canal as well as visiting a world heritage site and a self titled “Stream in the Sky”.
What could possibly go wrong?
The more pertinent observation is perhaps because I went wrong I actually ended up going right and because I didn’t see or observe the right sign leading to the right, to Llangollen, and heading in the right direction, I actually went wrong, but ended up going right all along. Do you see?
But that’s getting ahead of ourselves.
First I arrived at Chirk Castle in some early morning drizzle, but that quickly cleared as I made the very most of a 45 minute freebie stroll around the Castle. I’d arrived before any prospective tourists for the day and had the early morning 14th Century castle all to myself. High in the Welsh hills, a hairy mountain side drive led me to a tiny village called “Trevor”, the site of “Trevor Basin” and the canal thoroughfare that leads to the awe inspiring Pontcysyllte Aqueduct. 126 feet high and the self styled “Stream in the Sky”, the aqueduct is the highest in the world and also the longest of it’s kind in the UK and the pictures included here do not and cannot do it justice.
Perhaps intoxicated on the Pontcysyllte Aqueduct being everything I hoped it would be, I just kept walking in the naïve assurance that I was heading in the right direction as you can’t go wrong on the canals, right? Wrong! A building lay ahead in the distance and whilst I naturally assumed I was approaching the outskirts of Llangollen, I was in for a very rude and embarrassing awakening. “Welcome to Chirk Marina” proclaimed the building as I walked nearer and could finally see it clearly through the woodland and trees lining the canal. Chirk? It couldn’t be! I can’t have walked the 3 miles back to Chirk and the 3 miles I chalked off the walk in the first place to visit the castle instead?
But alas it was.
I’d like to say I calmly took this turn of events in my stride, throwing my head back in a huge hearty laugh and guffawed loudly at my rookie mistake and my silly predicament. I’d certainly like to say that, but I didn’t. Swearing like a sailor comes naturally to a sea dog from a seaside port and well, I was stood, bereft and embarrassed, beside a canal in a different country from my own, and so I filled the swear jar right to the very top.
“Are you lost?” enquired the canal boater as he gently passed me moments later.
“I was sure I was walking in the direction of Llangollen” I replied, trying desperately to hide the angry, sweary man lurking beneath my smiling exterior.
“No mate, it’s this way” and he directed his arms straight back toward the direction from whence I started out an hour or so ago.
“Bugger”, I probably thought.
“Fuck’s sake”, is probably what I actually said.
And that’s how I met Paul.
Moments later, Paul indicated he’d give me a lift back to the Pontcysyllte Aqueduct and the correct right hand turning toward Llangollen and after leaping aboard his boat “Liberty Lilly”, I had the time of my life with a golden hearted soul and the very epitome of a canal boat life. Paul and his unnamed wife disappear on the canals for three weeks at a time throughout the Summer. Both are semi-retired and Paul is also a full time carer to his wife after suffering three recent strokes. Born in Chester to boating parents, he’s always led a canal boat life and regaled me with so many smile filled tales of his childhood beside the canal as well as the work and pleasure that has taken him and his wife across Europe and parts of Asia. We talked canals and canal life, superbikes, motorbikes and motorsports, birthplaces, families, disabilities, engineering, the armed services and, as we crossed the “Stream in the Sky”, politics.
In all honesty, Paul talked. A lot. He admitted to enjoying the company whilst his wife relaxed below deck with their small dog. I admitted, frequently, that this was an absolute treat, an honour even, I was loving every minute and after going wrong, I couldn’t have been more blessed by going right. I saw Paul again on my return journey many hours later as he was mooring for the evening on the outskirts of the canal basin in Trevor.
“I made it to Horseshoe Falls” I exclaimed “and I’m on mile 14 of 16 now”.
My legs and calves were burning at this point and we exchanged laughs before I thanked him again for his kindness earlier.
“Nothing better than life on the canal” he laughed.
Paul also said he’d let me hitchhike with him any time and he hoped to see me again sometime.
The feeling was mutual.
So my ridiculous initial thought and plan of a 18 mile round trip walk turned into a mile hiking around Chirk Castle, 3 miles walking in the wrong direction, 4 and a half miles toward Llangollen and then the, hop, skip and a jump to “Horseshoe Falls” turning into a further 1 and half mile walk which, when totalled round trip, comes in at 16 total miles. So I could have continued with plan A all along, enjoyed a rare treat of a stress free train journey across the English/Welsh border and never really having the possibility of going wrong. But then again, going wrong ended up with me going right, eventually, and more immediately, enjoying the absolute treat of meeting Paul and sharing his brief journey to and across, the Pontcysyllte Aqueduct.
I got lucky, in more ways than one, and whilst I’m currently hobbling around like a man walking through deep mud and with calf muscles that are refusing to accept the instructions from my tiny addled mind, here is a continuing pictorial representation of 28th July 2022 and a long day of going wrong that ended up going spectacularly right.
Thanks for reading. I hope this message in a bottle in The Matrix finds you well, prospering, and the right way up in an upside down world.