Despite the fact that I had two pints of Speckled Hen at the Liverpool Arms last night (impressing some of our new friends we made in the process), I managed to get up for a run along the Menai Strait, past Beaumaris Castle and along cow pastures. Being from Wisconsin, those cow pastures make me feel right at home.
Our new friends at the Liverpool Arms also made us feel at home. Part of the crowd was pretty raucous. They were practicing the Rice-Boy Vocabulary Expansion program; we’re talking one-syllable Anglo Saxon verbs, here. I’m hoping that their accents were so thick (either because they’re Welsh or from several pints of Speckled Hen) that my ten-year-old didn’t pick it up. I think they were celebrating both St. Patrick’s Day and Wales’ rugby victory over France. We had a lengthy chat with slightly more sober folks, who were interested in our trip and our goal and one fellow told me when I went up to the bar for my second Speckled Hen (you order everything at the bar and then harried waittresses maneuvering through a chatty crowd delivered your food piping hot) that Mynydd Bodafon (near Ty’n y Mynydd) is a highly spiritual place. Today we’ll see, I hope!!