THE NORTH WALES TRIP 2016

Transcription

1 THE NORTH WALES TRIP 2016 It is over twenty years since I spent any time in North Wales and then it was work, which meant train, hotel, pub, curry, sleep, work and train home, so it was a fairly shallow experience. Though I ve been on most of the (then) BR railway lines, I d never travelled on any of the narrow gauge lines. So I packed the rucky and Ted and off we went. On the train a British Transport Policeman hands us each a card with a number to text to reach BTP if you are on a train and wish to report a crime or an incident. One of the examples quoted on the card is drunk man on carriage B. I may be being picky, but I don t think this in itself qualifies as a crime or as an incident worth reporting unless, (a) the man has been liquefied and then drunk by an enormous human-drinking alien, in which case I doubt the BTP wold be of much use or (b) he is actually on and not in carriage B in which case it might be better to pull the alarm before the driver reaches the next bridge. And, no, I m not giving out the number in case anyone reports me for snoring drunkenly on a train to Durham. The current route of TransPennine Express trains from Durham via Manchester Victoria means that the quickest route from Durham to Chester is via Liverpool Lime Street. This means my first new stretch of line on this trip is from Hooton to Chester. Not a lot of interest en route except for the Urenco uranium enrichment plant at Capenhurst. I wouldn t have known anything about it if I didn t make a habit of carrying out some quick research on large anonymous factories that I pass on my travels. At Chester I buy my ticket for the week an Explorer for North and Mid Wales. With my wrinkly railcard it is for 4 days out of eight by train and 8 days on most bus services within the area. I m heading along the North Wales coast and I don t even try to get on the first train 2 coaches and it is full and standing on a Monday lunchtime. I do manage (just) to get on the next train and though it is packed I manage to bag the last seat. I m beginning to think I should have gone for a jaunt round Spain instead. We head off to Llandudno via Shotton and Fflint and past the rusting hulk of a former Sealink ferry, which has been there for at least 25 years, close to the port of Mostyn, which has more life in it than I remember it turns out it is a major base for offshore wind turbine assembly and for servicing the offshore windfarms. There is a ferry in the port called the Airbus which seems a strange name for a boat until I discover that is used to transport wings for the Airbus A380 planes from Wales to the final assembly plant in France. Then the caravans and the bungalows begin, through Prestatyn and Rhyl. We pass the derelict pier at Colwyn Bay (which has a chequered history of attempts to revive it, but looks set for demolition) where the A55 dual carriageway separates the town from the seafront, and eventually we arrive at Llandudno where it s time for a drink of lunch.

2 Llandudno and Conwy A pint in the Snowdon Hotel, a local s pub, then on to the Kings Head by the Great Orme Tramway station. The barman tells another couple that the logs for the woodburner are so expensive he has to sign a log book each time he puts one on the fire and that people think logs grow on trees. The couple do not get the joke and I try not to giggle too loudly. Finally, into the Palladium where Wetherspoon s have done a fine job of converting an old theatre, though as usual the tables are laid out like a works canteen and it has as much atmosphere. A short bus journey takes me to my base for the night, Conwy, where I m staying in Y Bont (The Bridge Inn) It turns out to be owned by four local breweries Conwy, Nant from Llanrwst, Great Orme from Llandudno and Purple Moose from Porthmadog - so the evening looks promising (and they have done an excellent job in tarting up both the pub and the bedrooms). I take a walk round the walls, which are very impressive with views through the drizzle over the town to Conwy Castle (pictured). By the time I reach the highest point it starts to rain heavily and walking downhill on a wet narrow stone path is tricky. To recover, I have a pint of Madog s Ale, a bitter from Purple Moose Brewery in the Bridge, a pint of Conwy Brewery Welsh Gold in the Castle Hotel (upmarket, the food looks excellent and beer is good) and finally the Albion Ale House, another pub owned by the group of breweries, this time with 10 handpumps for real ale and cider, but I forget what I drank there. Then it s time for bed. FFestiniog and Welsh Highland Railways After a full breakfast I walk across the River Conwy to Llandudno Junction and pick up a train for Blaenau Ffestiniog. This morning the sun is shining on the castle and the estuary. The line follows the valley floor, much of which is marshland, via Llanrwst to Betws-y-Coed. The line reopened in February 2016 after serious flooding at more than 100 places following heavy rain on Boxing Day 2015, with the worst affected stretch near Llanryst. It then follows the narrow valley of the River Lled, and finally a long tunnel emerges into the slate wasteland that surrounds Blaenau Ffestiniog. We are about 10 minutes late due to another train (a Network Rail tack measurement train) on the single track section. However, the Ffestiniog Railway has held their connecting train and a few of us quickly run across to the Ffestiniog platform and set off on the first narrow gauge journey of the week. The Ffestiniog railway opened in 1836 to carry slate from the quarries at Blaenau to the port at Porthmadog for export. Originally operated by gravity (downhill) and horsepower (uphill) it was operated by steam from Passenger services were introduced around the same time. Following closure in 1946 the 1ft 11½in (597mm) gauge railway was reopened by the Ffestiniog Railway Trust in stages from 1955 until The 13½mile (21.7km) journey drops 710ft (216m) from Blaenau to sea level and takes 70 minutes. Though it has turned cloudy, the countryside is spectacular. We pass Tanygrisiau Reservoir and hydro-electric power station (which necessitated a diversion of the line) and the decommissioned Trawsfynydd nuclear power station is visible in the distance, though it looks insignificant amongst the surrounding mountains.. There are some forest stretches as we drop down towards the Vale of Ffestiniog. At sharp bends and the Dduallt spiral I try and fail to get photos

3 of the loco at the front. We cross the Cambrian Coast National Rail line at Minffordd, pass the railway workshops at Boston Lodge and cross the causeway (known as the Cob) into Porthmadog Harbour Station. There is time for a quick pint of Clogwyn Gold from Conwy Brewery in Spooners bar on the station and then it s off on the second leg of today s journey the Welsh Highland Railway to Caernarfon. The line, the same gauge as the Ffestiniog and owned by the same company, has a complex history. In summary, rails from the Caernarfon end reached to Rhyd Ddu in 1881 to facilitate the export of slate, and at the other end of the route a tramway ran from Porthmadog to Beddgelert from Rebuilding of the tramway and the link between the two lines were not completed until 1923, just in time for the local slate industry to collapse and for more frequent and faster bus services to kill off any passenger traffic. The line stuttered on until closure in 1937, and after lengthy attempts it was reopened as a tourist heritage line, in stages from the Caernarfon end from 1997 until Today it takes just over two hours to cover the 25miles (40.2km) through spectacular scenery to the south of Snowdon, and my pass gives me 50% off the fare (as it did on the Ffestiniog). The engine is an articulated Garratt steam locomotive, able to go round sharp corners, originally built in Manchester for narrow gauge lines in Africa. Leaving Porthmadog Harbour station we cross a new level crossing built to link the Welsh Highland and Ffestiniog railways and shortly afterward cross the Cambrian coast line on a flat junction. We pass the Welsh Highland Heritage Railway, the third narrow gauge line in Porthmadog. We stop at Beddgelert to take on water (I take on a bottle of Welsh Gold from Great Orme Brewery from the trolley), then we climb to the summit of the line at 648ft (197m) and reach Rhyd Dhu where we pass the Porthmadog bound train. Paths to the summit of Snowdon start from here and the next station, Snowdon Ranger. Then it is downhill towards Caernarfon and we pull into the station on the site of the old slate wharves beneath the castle. I ve arranged to meet a friend in Bangor for a drink so it s a quick jog up to the bus stop and off to Bangor. A pleasant few hours in the Waverley Hotel with Steve (though the beer is past its best) and then Ted and I pour on to the train back to Conwy. We end up at Llandudno Junction Conwy is a request stop and the conductor thought I said I was travelling to Colwyn Bay, but I was probably not too clear by this time, and the walk back over the river to Conwy probably did me good. Snowdon Day three and the number 19 bus heads up the opposite side of the Conwy Valley from the railway, once we manage to squeeze through the gate in the walls with inches to spare. The bus calls in at Surf Snowdonia, which I d never heard of, which turns out to be the UKs only artificial surfing lake, opened in 2015 on the site of Dolgarrog aluminium works. After a trip round the back streets of LLanrwst we reach some road works with a convoy system in place. When we eventually move we are led by a dinky little electric vehicle. We arrive in Betws-y-Coed 15 minutes late so there is not much time to look round however it looks like tourist central, full of tearooms and olde worlde gift shoppes - the coach park is full by 1030.

4 The next bus is the Snowdon Sherpa minibus to Llanberis via Capel Curig, Pen-y-Pass, and the Pass of Llanberis. The day is bright and clear, the roads are quiet (all the traffic is in Betws-y-Coed) and the views of Snowdon, the surrounding mountains and down the valleys are tremendous. Llanberis is a slate mining town turned tourist centre the mountainside opposite is a large, black former slate quarry. The good weather has brought out the tourists and it is busy when I arrive at the Snowdon Mountain railway. I m dubious about whether the trains will be fully booked the trains only take about 60 people and there is only one each hour. However, there is one seat left on the train about to depart, Ted, the rucky and I squeeze in and we head up the mountain. The Snowdon Mountain Railway opened in 1896 and is 4.7miles (7.6km) long, rising from 353ft (108m) at Llanberis to 3493ft (1065m) at the summit. It is 2ft 7½in (800m) gauge, and is the UK s only rack and pinion railway, built with Swiss help using the Abt rack system. Our locomotive today is George, a diesel built in 1992, but looking considerably older he s had a hard life. The summit station is not yet open for the summer season so the train terminates at Clogwyn, on a ridge about three-quarters of the way to the summit. There are no facilities there (I m glad I used the loo at Llanberis station) and we have a half-hour break, but the time soon passes - the views of the mountain, back towards the Pass of Llanberis in one direction and to cliffs, a corrie and mountains I saw yesterday from the Welsh Highland Railway in the other (pictured) are spectacular. There is some snow on the summit, the permanent way gang are working further up the line and plenty of people are walking to the summit, but we return down with George. Back in Llanberis I walk into the village which is deserted, with the tourists kept to the edge of town. There are a few signs of places being spruced up prior to the summer season but it feels miserable (it doesn t help that it is in the shade and cold) so I catch the first bus into Caernarfon. There I have time for some shopping, a quick look at the castle and a pint in the Pen Deitsh / Palace Vaults, which has a house beer brewed by Marston s, and I get the pronunciation nearly right. The default language in the shops and pub is Welsh, unlike in Conwy where I hardly heard any Welsh spoken. Caernarfon looks worth a more in depth visit in the future there s a few pubs that look interesting. Porthmadog and Tremadog Another bus takes me to Porthmadog. It is a double decker which is good for the views. However, it is full of kids on the way home from school effing and blinding and talking about bodily functions in very clear English. Quite a few of them travel all the way to Criccieth or Porthmadog - there must be closer schools. Just before we depart a huge bloke lumbers up the stairs and, of course, sits beside me. He goes as far as Criccieth and doesn t move even once there are plenty of seats. During the journey, there are many more signs of former slate working. While I knew about Blaenau I hadn t realised quite how dominant an industry it had been throughout this part of Wales. Time for a pint in Australia, which is a pub in Porthmadog, also owned by the quartet of breweries we met in Conwy, so the beer (Purple Moose, Dark Side of the Moose) is excellent. My Welsh is expanded significantly by the realisation that cwrw means beer. The pub is advertising a bus-based

5 pub crawl from Criccieth to Blaenau on Saturday and the tickets are selling well pity I m not around. Finally, a short hop to Tremadog where I m staying for two nights at the Golden Fleece. Tremadog is a planned village built in 1805, dramatically situated beneath a crag and envisaged as the final overnight stop on the coach route from England to Ireland the two main streets are Dublin Street and London Street. The coming of the railway and the development of Holyhead rather than Porth Dinllaen (see below) as the steam packet port finished off that plan, and attention locally moved to building Porthmadog as a port for the export of slate. In everything I read about the place, they are keen to let you know that Tremadog was the birthplace of Lawrence of Arabia so now you know. My room is across the road from the Golden Fleece which has taken over the old Royal Madoc Hotel, the coaching inn built with the village. It s been modernised in the current style (lots of grey) but it is comfortable. The pub has also been modernised but kept much of its character in the oldest rooms and I enjoy a meal of lamb and a pint. The Llŷn Peninsula Day four is a day out by bus around the Llŷn Peninsula. The first stretch is from Tremadog to Pwllheli via Llanystumdwy (birth and burial place of David Lloyd George and home of a rabbit farm), the prison-style gatehouse of the Penychain Holiday Park and a solar farm. Pwllheli feels rough, though it may be because the bus station is the gathering place the young unemployed. There are plenty of illadvised tattoos, there are some interesting conversations comparing courts, judges and prisons, and a few are already off their heads by 11am. There are also quite a few obviously poor people around a reminder that this area is not all picture-postcard. It may be chance on my part when I look at the statistics later, the area is not particularly deprived. The next stretch is by minibus to Aberdaron and back it would be tricky on some of the lanes with a full-size bus or coach through small settlements such as Mynytho and Botwynnog. Aberdaron is a small former fishing village turned tourist resort at the tip of the Llŷn Peninsula. There s time for a short walk along the cliffs and a pint on the balcony of the Ty Newydd Hotel before catching the next bus back to Pwllheli. The next trip is to Morfa Nefyn and back. Nefyn coaches aren t listed as taking my pass so I have to fork out a whole We pass through Nefyn and the sign announces that it is twinned with Puerto Madryn (Argentina). It turns out that Sir Love Jones-Parry of nearby Madryn Castle was one of the founders of Puerto Madryn in The weather is sunny and I decide to walk to the Ty Coch Inn at Porth Dinllaen. This is an excellent sheltered anchorage and was the port envisaged as the ferry port for Ireland. It never took off and these days there s the pub, a couple of other houses and no public road access, and the area is owned by the National Trust. On the way there is a sign saying that the pub closes at 3pm until May, and I arrive at 4 minutes past. I ve bet on them not closing on such a glorious day and they haven t. I enjoy a pint outside taking in the view (pictured), watching people on the beach and some fish being landed, then make my way back to Morfa Nefyn and the bus to Pwllheli. Changing buses again at Pwllheli there is time for a quick visit to the Wetherspoon s it is 5pm on a curry club Thursday and it s is as awful as expected. Back in Porthmadog I visit the Ship Inn and the

6 Station Inn, then stroll back to Tremadog and the chip shop followed by a final drink in the Union Inn, which is the local s pub in the village. The Cambrian Coast Friday is a fairly easy day. I m tired (nothing to do with yesterday s booze - honest), and though it is a pleasant morning the weather becomes more overcast as the day goes on. The morning is passed on the Cambrian Coast railway line from Porthmadog south. The first stretch is round the estuary and across the newly rebuilt Briwet bridge near Penrhyndeudraeth to Harlech. The conductor is kept busy.the stations are unstaffed, the train is fairly full and there are plenty of request stops. Looking back across the bay I can see Portmeirion. I thought about visiting but when I looked at the website it came over as more a money-making machine than an attraction, and staying in the village is prohibitively expensive. At Harlech there is a council estate on one side of the tracks and the castle on the other. South of Dyffryn Ardudwy it is caravan land until we reach Barmouth. We cross the Mawddach estuary and the surrounding sand and mud-flats on the impressive rail and foot bridge. Fairbourne looks like a miserable place but beyond it there is a section along the steep cliff side, with an avalanche shelter to protect the line. At Tywyn I see the Talyllyn Railway which I ll visit tomorrow. We pass through Aberdyfi and Penhelig, which look like pleasant little resorts, then after a few miles we cross the River Dyfi and into Dovey Junction on time. Though the Cambrian Coast line is single track the timetable has been suitably padded to divide the route into half-hour sections between passing places and, as a result, the timekeeping on this line is better than many. Dovey Junction is a station in the middle of nowhere (there is no road access) where the lines from Pwllheli and Aberystwyth meet before heading through the centre of Wales to Shrewsbury and Birmingham. There are trains from each of the three directions at the station and I and a few others change for Aberystwyth, hopefully helping to increase the number of passengers who changed trains at Dovey Junction from the 1,029 estimated to have done so in Aberystwyth is a short run away over the marsh on the south side of the estuary to Borth then inland to approach the town from the south- east. It is grey and cold and I m too tired to appreciate Aberystwyth so after a short walk to the seafront I soon end up back at the station where the main building is now a Wetherspoon s. I look in but you have to form queues at the tills a la Macdonalds, it is busy and, as usual, understaffed. The risk is I d have to queue long enough to get annoyed and take it out with the poor overworked staff on zero hours contracts, so I leave without ordering and catch the next train to Machynlleth. By the time I reach Machynlleth I ve fully revived, so I have a pint of Banks s Bitter in the Red Lion and a pint of Bass in the Dyfi Forester both of which are good local pubs, before catching a bus to Dolgellau, my base for the next couple of nights. It s a scenic route past the Centre for Alternative Technology and calling at the village of Corris and Minfford at the foot of Cadair Idris. From my room at the Royal Ship I ve a fine view of the main square (pictured). The hotel has recently been refurbished and it is comfortable but bland in the standard 2010s sort of way (a lot more grey paint). I was told it had been pretty run down, so I expect 1970s plastic and formica and 1990s bare wood refurbishments had already removed any character. The bar is open plan and both it and the restaurant are full of families eating. I m not tempted, so I have

7 a quiet evening in the room with a couple of sandwiches and salads from the local co-op reading magazines I picked up in Aberystwyth. The Talyllyn Railway, Barmouth and Dolgellau It s a clear day and after breakfast I head off to the Talyllyn Railway. The bus journey to Tywyn is along the south side of the River Mawddach to Fairbourne (which is as miserable as it looked from the train). Along the cliffs the road is at a higher level than the railway line on a ledge below. A couple of miles after Llwyngwril the road, and the bus, turns inland to serve Llanegryn and Bryncrug, where we pick up people heading into metropolitan Tywyn for the day. The Talyllyn Railway runs up the Fathew valley for 7.25miles (11.67km) from Tywyn Wharf to Nant Gwernol. It was built to 2ft 3in (686mm) gauge was opened in , so the line has been celebrating its 150 th anniversary. It was built to export slate from the quarries at the top of the line, but from the beginning carried passengers and goods to and from the quarry workers village at Abergynolwyn. The railway has never closed - though the quarry shut in 1946, the line was taken over by the Talyllyn Railway Preservation Society in 1951, becoming the first preserved heritage railway. The loco for the journey this morning is Talyllyn, built for the opening of the line and still going strong. We pootle up the valley watching the sheep and their lambs, to Dolgoch where a couple of people get out to walk to the falls, and to the end of the line at Nant Gwernol, where we watch the loco run round the train. On the return journey the train calls at Abergynolwyn station for a refreshment stop there are some nice bottles of beer in the chiller but it is a bit early so I stick to tea. Back at Tywyn I walk along to the Cambrian Coast line station to catch a train to Barmouth. It may be clear and sunny but there is a freezing wind while I wait. The journey gives me the chance to take some photos of the scenic stretch of line in better weather than yesterday. It s Saturday, and Barmouth is packed with daytrippers and caravanners down for the weekend. I join the shivering crowds for a walk round the harbour, then head for a pint in the Last Inn, where the food looks excellent, but I ve already eaten. I walk back towards the bus stop and into the Royal Hotel. It is a big and busy boozer but well-managed a large stag party that arrives is subtly packed off to a separate room and the beer, a summer ale Y Brawd Houdini from The Llŷn Brewery is good. The bus back to Dolgellau is along the north side of the Mawddach so I have a chance to look over to where I was this morning. There s time for a wander round town. Like many of the towns and villages in this area many of the old houses are tiny with very small windows. They remind me of village houses in Southern Spain but I doubt whether the purpose of the small windows (to keep out the sun) is the same as here. The Torrent Walk is a fine old pub with lots of character and a few characters and the Cross Keys is also a good local boozer, and I have a pleasant early evening in Dolgellau.

8 Llangollen The GDA Coaches bus from Dolgellau to Llangollen accepts my pass. Though the route is marked on the leaflet that came with the pass the company isn t listed. I don t think the driver had a clue about the pass, but most of the other passengers have concession cards and he is not very used to paying passengers. It is a ninety-minute journey to Llangollen, initially up the valley then over the watershed to the headwaters of the River Dee (Dyfrdwy), alongside Bala Lake (Llyn Tegid) and into Bala. The T3 bus route is part of the TrawsCymru network of long distance services linking North, Mid, West and South Wales. Initially I am surprised that these routes use ordinary buses and not coaches (similar routes in Scotland would), but they have a habit of including very narrow lanes and reversals at farm tracks at the far end of villages away from the main road, and would be tricky for a full-size coach. This journey is no exception, taking in reversals at Llanuwchllyn and Llandderfel. The journey follows the Dee valley between Bala and Corwen, taking the attractive minor road via Llandrillo and Cynwyd. The river has cut deep into the surrounding hills which makes for impressive scenery and views. The Llangollen Steam Railway, a standard gauge preserved railway reached Corwen in 1914 and there are frequent sightings of the line on the final ten miles into Llangollen. When I arrive at noon Llangollen is packed with Sunday daytrippers and with traffic the weather is good and the railway is having a Thomas the Tank Engine day. To escape the crowds, I drop my bag in the hotel, buy a paper and walk out of town. I walk along the Llangollen Canal for a mile or so to Berwyn. Though the canal carried goods its main function was to provide water for the Shropshire canal network and the public water supply. An 18km stretch of the canal is now a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Beyond the marina at Llangollen the only traffic is horse-drawn barge trips to the Chain Bridge Hotel, which is where I end up. I can sit outside looking across the river and the bridge to Berwyn station (eventually Thomas the Tank Engine steams past). Back in town I discover the Wynnstay Arms, which is off the main drag and quiet. Though it has an unspoilt bar, it seems daft not to enjoy the beer garden when I can. I m staying in the Royal Hotel, patronised by Queen Victoria (and my room hasn t been modernised since though it is the cheapest of the trip). It is my final evening in Wales and I wander out to explore the fleshpots of Llangollen in the early evening once it is quieter. I take in the impressive restored Corn Mill pub (a smashing pint of Orme Best Bitter) and the nothing special Bridge End Inn (Robinson s Beerdo), where it is still warm enough to sit outside breathing in the traffic fumes, followed by a competent curry (and an orange juice it is unlicensed) at Samirah Spice. A life of luxury and hedonism. Pontcysyllte Aqueduct

9 It is time to head home and the last day of my pass. It s also my last full Welsh breakfast I m getting to the stage where I ll be more than happy to get back to my muesli (until the next time I m in a hotel). There is time to stop off on the way for one last sight. I get off the bus at Trevor and walk down the path to the bridge over the River Dee and up the far bank to Froncysyllte village. There s a view from the bridge of the Pontcysyllte Aqueduct (pictured) and my intention is to walk back over it. I have second thoughts when I see how fragile it looks from below and I have third thoughts when I walk along the towpath to the south end of the aqueduct. The aqueduct was completed by Thomas Telford in 1805, it is 336 yards (303m) long and 126ft (38m) above the River Dee, and is basically a cast iron trench supported on pillars. More scarily it is only 4 yards (3.7m) wide, the width of a narrowboat and a narrow towpath. On the canal side the top of the iron trench is only 6 inches (15cm) above the water level (which must be frightening for the person steering the narrowboat) and on the towpath side there are 200-year-old iron railings which look very far apart and fragile. I have my rucksack with me which would make it tricky to crawl back on all fours if I give up halfway. After a while another couple turn up and I feel less alone so I decide to follow them, egged on by Ted, safe in the rucky pocket. The only tricky moments are having to pass someone coming the other way, when I m pressed against the railings, and when I stop at the highest point to take a picture and my legs take some persuading to continue. Afterwards I chat to some people at the north end while waiting to get a photo of a barge on the aqueduct. Locals use it as well as walkers and everyone I talked to had stories about it or techniques for coping with the height. One cheery man told me that, the first time he walked across, a woman in front of him had thrown herself off, and every time he crosses he can still see her jump and her body in the river. I think he was telling the truth and not just trying to chase away tourists. It s 1030 and too early for the pub by the canal basin to be open though I could do with a pint. Instead I finish the trip by taking the bus to Ruabon Station and the first train to Chester where the pass runs out. On the way back I stop off at the Stalybridge Station Buffet Bar (difficult not to) for a couple of pints and take home a packet of the cook s homemade chilli and lime pork scratchings for the crowd in the Colpitts in Durham, which I reach at my usual time of 5.30.

10 A few notes: Sources: The sources used to plan the trip and to add the factual details to this piece were: The Rough Guide to Wales, The Ordnance Survey Explorer and Landranger maps of the area, Wikipedia, the websites, brochures and guidebooks of the heritage railway companies, CAMRAs Good Beer Guide and the Electronic National Rail Timetable at and the public transport sections of the websites of Conwy, Gwynedd and Denbighshire Councils. The Explore North and Mid Wales Pass is available from most staffed National Rail stations in Wales and main stations elsewhere. I bought mine at Chester. It is not available online or on board trains. There are other versions for South Wales and All Wales. Information at Photographs: All photographs are by Steve Gillon except for the following, sourced via Google Images: The Arriva train is from The aerial view of the Pontcysyllte Aqueduct is from and the photo on the aqueduct is by Jason Lang, posted on news.bbc.co.uk Copyright Steve Gillon 2016