Diary of the International Tour to Wales 2012

Day 1

We left Toronto last night, flew to Manchester, England, then took a coach into Wales. Just sixteen hours after leaving North America we found ourselves wandering along the promenade in Llandudno in the bracing wind and fleeting sunshine. Behind us, a row of brightly coloured Victorian hotels, and in front of us, the sea. We wandered along the traditional British pier, admiring the views and eating fish ‘n’ chips before returning to the hostel, exhausted and jet lagged.

Back at the hostel this evening, Matt ran a film workshop, focussing on cinematography, for any campers who wanted to join in. On impulse, we took the camera down to the beach. It was dark, but the cliffs shone luminous in the moonlight. A few of us took off our shoes and stood with our toes in the water, cold sand shifting beneath our feet. There was excitement in the air. It was a wonderful way to begin the trip, though as we returned to the hostel we couldn’t help noticing the clouds amassing overhead. The forecast is for seven days of solid rain…

Day 2

Despite the forecast, we had gorgeous weather today for our climb up the Great Orme! Lots of clouds to add definition to the hills, and to draw glorious shadows across the cliffs… but warm sunshine, too. We took the Victorian tram to the top of the headland, then walked down through the shivering grasses to St. Tudno’s church, which dates back to the sixth century. From there, we rambled the entire circular trail across the Great Orme (a name that comes from the ancient Viking word for ‘Sea Serpent’ because that’s what it looks like from out at sea). We stopped at a tiny tea shop on the far end of the headland and ate our lunch in their garden, then walked down the other side of the Headland.

At one point, a mist came in, and all we could see was the footpath, and a few sheep off to the left (the campers really loved all the sheep!). Strangely, these are Kashmir sheep, and were brought here from Pakistan two hundred years ago. Locals claim that if the sheep ever leave the Great Orme, it will slip into the sea.  At last, the mist cleared, and the sudden view was breathtaking. Down on the far side of the Orme, we could see a beach, endlessly long, of gray shale and sand. The tide was out, exposing sand banks that glittered golden in the sunshine. We had this view to our right for almost an hour, before taking a small detour to visit a Neolithic Burial Chamber. Finally we dropped down into Llandudno, through old streets that were impossibly steep.

This afternoon, campers had several hours to wander and explore the small seaside town, in groups of three. Some of them spent their time in tea shops, soaking up the atmosphere. Others explored the souvenir shops and sampled local ice cream – which was unbelievably good.

This evening, we decided to take the film equipment down to the deserted beach we had viewed from the Great Orme – not the one with all the touristy sights and the pier, but the West Beach on the opposite end of town. We were glad we did.

This was our first opportunity to film, and the campers took shots of each character wandering the beach. We had the area to ourselves the entire time. Our movie is called ‘Hiraeth’ – a Welsh word, for which there is no English equivalent. It means a longing for home so great that the person suffering from it can even sicken or die. We wrote the word in pebbles on the beach, then filmed it as the sun set over the sea. We always hope for a spectacular sunset on every tour, but rarely have we seen one as stunning as this. It was a magical, mystical end to a wonder-filled day.

For tomorrow, there is rain forecast again. We’re planning to walk down Mount Snowdon, but if the weather is bad then the summit will be closed. They were wrong about today. Maybe they will be wrong about tomorrow, too.

Day 3

Once again, relief as we looked out of the window! Lots of clouds of various height and colour, but no rain. The coach picked us up at 8.30am and drove us down the coast and into the Snowdonia mountain range. By 10am we were sitting on the steam train, ready to ascend the mountain. This is a truly spectacular journey – the kind of experience that for sometimes happens only once in a lifetime.

The train took an hour to rise to the summit. For the first few moments we filmed one of the characters in our movie – Davydd – as he stared out of the window, making his journey home. But after a while, it became impossible to do anything but gaze out at the scenery. The fertile valley gave way to slopes dotted with sheep and the occasional lake which mirrored the clouds. Then, no more sheep or trees or lakes – just the raw and rugged slope of Mount Snowdon as the train struggled on upwards. Just before we reached the summit, a sudden mist fell, and nothing was visible at all. It was as if we had taken to the air, and were dangling in a cloud.

There is a cafe right on the summit, now – very incongruous. We warmed up and waited for the mist to swing back. At last it did, revealing a sudden view of old mountains in every shade of gray and brown, stretching like waves in all directions. Two lakes were visible , deep down in the valley, appearing black because we were so far away. We could see the pathway downwards, zig zagging steeply along the ridges and down the slopes, a daunting sight. We wrapped up warmly and began the long descent. Only ten minutes into the climb down, the crew decided to do some filming.

The mist had partially dispersed at this point – it was possible to see more lakes down in the valleys on both sides of the ridge, ghostly and ethereal. The scenery was so perfect for our movie, and everyone so disinclined to leave it and head downwards, that we spent almost an hour filming, before tackling the winding and rugged path. Our group is wonderful – one of the most positive we have ever had. No one complains about the walking, they just gush about the views and laugh together! However, we discovered as we walked that all of us like to talk a lot, so the descent took a lot longer than it should have.

Finally, we left the mountain and found ourselves on a steep pathway between fields full of sheep. When we reached our coach, we were all elated, jubilant, proud of ourselves and very, very tired. Cheryl was waiting for us by the bus and she was starting to panic – what should have been a 2.5 hour descent had taken us almost four hours!

From Snowdon, we headed into Conwy to explore the formidable Castle Conwy, built by Edward I in just 10 years (1282-1292) as part of his terrifying conquest of Wales. Afterwards, we ate dinner together in an Italian restaurant, wandered the harbour for an hour (there was a fair in progress!) and caught the local bus back into Llandudno in time for bedtime stories. Even local busses can be an adventure, when you are a traveller in another land. Tonight, I began telling everyone the story, in three parts, of Llewellyn the Great, Llewleyn the Last and the tragic end of Welsh independence at the hands of the Normans. It’s a gruesome and tragic tale with knights, love, mystical journeys, ruthless kings, conquest and even a sea battle. Afterwards, we collapsed into bed with mythical landscapes and awesome castles swimming in our heads.

 Day 4

The past few days would have been ruined if it had rained – but we have been unbelievably lucky. Today, when it didn’t matter quite so much, our luck ran out and it poured all day! We packed the coach with all our suitcases and headed back into the mountains. Our first stop was at the beautiful mountain village of Betws-y-coed. Next, we paused to clamber down to Swallow Falls. We saw the Ugly House – erected, bizarrely, between sunset and sunrise in order to avoid paying tax, and still (crookedly!) standing, hundreds of years later.

Our next stop was Dolbadarn – a ruined castle built by Llewelyn the Great in the early 1200s. We shared a story about Llewelyn and his Norman bride last night, and to stand in the time worn ruins of their home was truly evocative, a feeling only enhanced by the mist and driving rain.

Our last stop, today, was Beddgelert, so named for Llewelyn’s favourite hound.There were some beautiful gift shops in the village, which was all gray stone and slate, surrounded by mountains and with a river running through the middle. Some of us walked through the river to Gelert’s grave, while others dried off in a tea shop that served locally made cakes and terrific pizza!

Arriving at the village close by the Writer’s Retreat that will be our home for the next five days, a surprise awaited us. Our coach could not make it up the winding country road that led to the house. Cell phone signals were impossible, so I hiked up to the house to find out how far it was, and whether we could manage to haul the suitcases up there ourselves. I reassured the group that this was all part of the adventure – and as everyone had been warned in Canada not to bring more than they could comfortably carry, it shouldn’t be a problem. Luckily, the Centre sent a pick up truck and two cars down to fetch us all, and moments later we were standing in the rambling old house high on the hill that looked down towards the sea.

A highlight for me, today, was seeing delight on the faces of all the campers when they realised where they were about to stay! They charged excitedly around the house – which dates back, in places, to the fifteenth century – marveling at the sloping ceilings, the little nooks and crannies, the shuttered windows and the tiny, circular staircase up to the attic. Our communal space is a low ceilinged, beamed room with a giant stone fireplace and a huge table big enough to comfortably seat us all. When the candles were lit for dinner, it was difficult to tell which century we had stumbled in to.

One of our campers said tonight: “I have never, ever slept in a place like this and I never thought I would.” Another, who has been on previous tours, said, “Whenever we come to these places I am reminded how beautiful life can be.” This made me really happy because one of our goals on these tours is to open up the world to our campers, and to help them recognise how great it feels to travel.

Tonight we sat together in the Library, telling stories. The British Prime Minister Lloyd George died right here, in the alcove, looking down towards the sea. Four of our campers are sleeping in a room upstairs that used to be his bedroom. That may feel creepy – but it’s also wonderful, improbable and definitely something to boast about to their friends… not everyone has stayed in a prime minister’s house.

From tomorrow onwards, our tour takes on a different feel. We will begin to shoot our movie in earnest, and that will be the main focus. It’s hard to imagine a better place to do it in. There are beautiful lawns sloping down towards the sea. It feels, now, as if we have stumbled into the heart of Wales and that we somehow belong here. At least for the next few days.

 Day 5

We woke on our first morning in Ty Newydd to blustery winds but bright sunshine. We began the day with a production meeting, then Matt spent the morning filming with almost everyone. The crew was thrilled by a 2.5 minute continuous shot they managed to get, with the camera moving through the house, in and out the bedrooms, the kitchens, the library and so on. For us, the house here represents the ‘hostel’ which is the main location for our movie. While the crew worked, I ran an character development workshop for everyone else.

After a wonderful buffet lunch (salads, homemade quiches, local cheeses and meats) filming continued. Six people were not needed on set, so Cheryl and I walked into Cricieth with them. We hiked down endless tiny country lanes, finally finding ourselves on the beach, with the gorgeous ruins of the castle high on a promontory above us. We ate ice cream, browsed the small number of shops in this sleepy little town, then braved the long walk back.

This evening the weather was so lovely that we filmed a number of scenes out on the lawns, then spent a crazy hour playing physical games and generally chasing around and laughing. It was a definite highlight of the day.

 Day 6

Most of the campers were required for filming this morning, and meanwhile I set out with a small group to scout locations for tomorrow. We needed to find a large tree that looked twisted and mysterious, and perhaps also a river. We hiked to the end of the lane, then followed a public footpath down into a copse.

We found the perfect location almost at once – a magical, mossy grove filled with yew trees that looked like a location straight out of The Hobbit. There was a fast-flowing river, with rapids, and oak trees encircled in ivy. Absolutely ideal… and so magical that we lingered for a lot longer than we needed to. Unfortunately, the place was also very muddy, and we returned to Ty Newydd smiling, satisfied… and very very dirty!

This afternoon, we hired a minibus and a taxi to take us all the 12 miles into Caenarfon, where the Writer’s Centre had arranged for us to meet with a youth theatre group. This was a fantastic opportunity for everyone. Our group was almost the same size and the same age as theirs. The new arts centre (Galeri) stood on the harbour right next to another of Edward I’s “shock and awe” castles, and had been designed as a combination of local slate and glass, to reflect the landscape. Our workshop began with the two groups sitting on opposite sides of the drama studio looking nervously over at each other… and ended with lively conversation and laughter. For the first 90 minutes the Welsh instructor ran a drama workshop for everyone. Her students also performed scenes for us, using Basel masks. Then the cafe staff wheeled in trays full of cup cakes, and for half an hour all the teens socialised and learned more about each other’s lives. Most of the Welsh teens live not in Caenarfon but in tiny villages nearby, some of which lack even a shop. Welsh is their first language, although every one of them is bilingual of necessity. It was difficult for us to even pronounce their names, never mind the Welsh words they tried to teach us, and I think this was fairly amusing for them. They were surprised to learn that Canadians were even aware of Wales as a distinct culture and country, and had assumed that we would think of it, mistakenly, as just a part of England.

For the final hour and a half of the afternoon, Matt ran a film workshop with both groups. He divided everyone into three production teams, with a mixture of Centauri and Welsh teens in each, and gave each of them a challenge. One group had to tell a visual story using only close up shots. The second group had to attempt to convey an emotion visually on screen. The third group had to tell a story in no more than three shots. Our campers led each of the ‘crews’, so they had an opportunity to gain some teaching experience. The Welsh teens did much of the filming. For the last 30 minutes we reconvened in the studio and Matt set up a location to represent the communal area in the hostel. Each Welsh teen was asked to create a character by devising secrets and preoccupations. Then, while the characters interacted, our crew members filmed them. We’re not sure if the scene will make it into our movie because the light quality was so different, but it was fun for the other group to be a part of our process.

Tonight we’re filming again – I’m sitting in the Library and there is a lot of laughter coming from the computer room upstairs. There are nine scenes still to shoot, and only two more days to do them all!

 Day 7

What should have been a hard day of filming today turned into one spectacular memory after another. We needed some footage in a town, so we all hiked together down to the coast, then walked into Cricieth. The path down to the beach was so muddy that I think some of the camper were a bit unhappy at first! All that changed, however, when we reached the water. There was a small, shallow lake leading into an estuary that felt wild and beautiful. No one else was in sight.

The beach was beautiful, and we lingered for a while, skimming stones and peering into rock pools. Off to our left we would see the white houses of Cricieth, rising up a steep hill, with the ruined castle perched in dark silhouette on the top. The coastal pathway took us along hedgerows filled with wild blackberries, which many of us picked and ate as we walked.

In Cricieth, several campers went off with Matt to film. Others discovered the wonders of Cadwaladers traditional ice cream shop, or explored the castles and shops of the quaint little town. Afterwards, Cheryl and Matt walked back along the main road with campers who did not want to brave the mud again (!!!) while I took a group of 8 campers back along the coastal pathways. We picked blackberries the whole way back, and used them to make a dessert for everyone in the evening. Picking wild fruit is a memory from my own childhood and I haven’t done it much since. For a few of our campers this was their first time ever, and it was their ‘rose’ in the evening. It was such a pleasure to linger again on the beach and wonder at how the golds, blues and browns melted into one another like a Monet painting.

The afternoon, we filmed down at the river we discovered a couple of days ago. There was a lot of laughter as the film crew tried to get the shot they needed. Those of us not involved with the filming sat and chatted on moss-covered boulders right by the rapids.

Tonight was a heavy evening of filming for all of us – so satisfying because the footage we are getting is very, very good. The early evening was warm and filled with sunshine, and we lingered in the garden… some of us figuring out how to use a boomerang!

 Day 8

This morning, we aced the very last shot for our movie – a half hour of continuous shooting involving all the campers both on and off camera. This will be a time-delay sequence, the footage speeded up to show the movement of life in the hostel over an extended period of time. Afterwards, some of us took a storytelling workshop together, or packed ready to go home. Hard to believe that we leave tomorrow.

By lunch, we were congratulating ourselves – the filming was done! Matt and Craig sequestered themselves in the editing room, while I led everyone else in a creative writing workshop so everyone would have chance to record some of their favourite memories from the trip. At the end of the workshop, we wrote letters to Welsh strangers – thanking them for their hospitality, listing the things we loved about Wales or telling them about what we had learned of the world by travelling in it. We placed the letters in plastic bottles which said ‘Read Me’ on the front, and then hid them – some in the village, and some in Cricieth, which a group of us visited one last time, in the late afternoon, by bus.

This evening, by candlelight, we finished the story of the great Llewelyns, and the Norman conquest of Wales. Campers finally learned what I meant by ‘the boy who lived in a box’ (you’ll have to ask them about the story, and see how much they remember!). We did a final Roses ‘n’ Thorns, then watched a rough cut of part of the movie, recalling laughter and in jokes on set, and congratulating ourselves at how professional it looked.

And now, we sit in the airport in Manchester, waiting to go home. We were up just before dawn this morning, walking down through the trees to our coach, while early morning light filtered down through the trees. Most of us slept on the 3 our trip to the airport. We’re tired, now, but happy – after a wonderful trip. As someone said last night, we saw spectacular scenery, discovered a new culture, bonded as friends, lived in an incredible place, shared adventures – oh, and along the way we managed to make a movie as well!

Our film will be edited over the next 2-3 weeks and should be available by the end of the month on the camp web site, so that everyone can see it.

Check out all the photos at https://www.facebook.com/centauriteentours

Julie
Director
Centauri Summer Arts Camp
www.centauriartscamp.com