After camping near amidst the mini-mountains of Coniston I headed out of Cumbria hit the M6 towards Manchester, and after a quick stop in Cheshire to see my Mum – as well as the obligatory snack and cup of tea – I got onto the M56 and headed towards North Wales.
Now, I have a confession here… My original tent is great. Its relatively small but the best thing about it is that it’s very quick and very easy to put up. It has a really good outer, but the inner is mostly made up of mesh. It’s a summer tent – something I never thought through when I bought it – and for the past few nights it’s been really cold with the wind just whistling through the tent. Waking up in the morning wearing my long-johns, socks and a jumper – I knew I had the wrong tent.
Riding through North Wales I saw a Halfords and out of a combined sense of curiosity and necessity I decided to have a look at their tents – and £55 later walked out with a fully-enclosed tent which had been reduced in price due to a sale.
I arrived at Groeslon in the late afternoon, where I had pre-booked myself onto a small but really nice site. It wasn’t far from Caernarfon and it was central for all the things I wanted to see. There was space for about 18 pitches and when I arrived there was about six caravans and two campervans. No tents – except me. There was also two small toilets and two small showers, each in their own little shed which was really cute.
The next difficulty I had was in putting up the tent, and being the kind of bloke that I am, I never read instructions. After a couple of goes I succumbed to the instructions and realised that I had been trying to put the tent up the wrong way. If anyone had been watching from the nearby caravans, they must of been having a ball watching me getting more and more frustrated as time went by, becoming madder and madder and using lots of ancient sailor words… But I got there eventually, and what a great evening’s sleep. No wind rushing through the tent and if I bend my head forwards, I can actually stand up in the tent to get my trousers on. Bliss..
The next day saw me riding around North Wales, visiting Pwllheli, Criccieth and Caernarfon. One of the reasons I wanted to come here is that I had come here on a few family holidays when I was a boy and i wanted to see if I could remember any of places and to see if they could jog any memories. No. I couldn’t remember any of the places and they certainly didn’t jog any memories, which was a bit disappointing.
I must admit though, I certainly love North Wales and i will definitely be coming back here for a holiday or two. The roads are great, the scenery is stunning and wherever you go, it really feels welcoming. As Arnie said: “I’ll be back”…
Below is a picture of the V-Strom at Criccieth.
