Best I add a pic of the place mat from the Bryntirion Inn in Lllandderfel; it’s only there so I can spell it wrong successfully in the title.

This was my map of the GBG ticks I need in North Wales (East and West). Nice little circuit there round Snowdon.

After Llangollen a “closed pub” disappointment awaited at the Dudley Arms in Llandrillo*, not the first time someone has been disappointed by Dudley, I’ll wager. But on the descent (rise ?) to Lake Bala three (3) ticks in quick succession awaited.

Lunch at the first of those, a typically Old School ex-Tetley roadhouse with rooms. Except it doesn’t say “Dining with Rooms” on the side of the wall like it would in Frimley, does it.

That sign is a reminder that at one time, c. 1973, all pub food consisted of turnips and potatoes in a giant cauldron.

In 2022, we have modern food and Wi-Fi.

and beers you haven’t heard of, including one with a paper clip.

Mrs RM takes the seat near the bar (excellent work), with only gentlefolk (singular) and dog for company.

I stand at the bar and wait.

And wait. About five minutes. No-one is about.

It’s deadly silent, far too quiet (frankly it’s the case for piped Dire Straits in pubs).

I cough (not Covid). A minute later I say “Ullo” in a pathetic reedy voice. There is no bell and no-one says “He’s just changing the Stella, I’ll fetch him“.

I consider reading a book, but some of them look almost as long as a BRAPA blog.

And then the landlady shows up, bright and breezy and 20 minutes later we’re eating homemade lamb stew made out of ACTUAL Welsh lamb and chatting about campervans and some Old Boys have turned up for their lunches and it’s a different world.

The beer tastes a bit homemade too, if I’m honest, but let’s count our blessings, eh ?

NB An examples of landlady humour you wouldn’t get in, ooh, a Brunning & Price. Asked if I’ll pay now or later, I always say “now, so you won’t chase after me when I forget to pay”. “I’m wearing my trainers ready to chase you to Bala”, she says.


  1. There are loads of places called Bryntirion in Wales.

    I think that it translates as something like “Mount Pleasant”, so that maybe explains it.


  2. Etu,
    And London’s Mount Pleasant has a rich history with an inquest at the Calthorpe Arms, a pub I’ve used several times, into the death of PC Culley declaring that his stabbing was “justifiable homicide”.
    That was in 1833 though and I expect a jury nowadays would reach a quite different conclusion.


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