A rubbish zoo and a town with a ridiculously long name

Continuing the story of my Wales road trip with Piers, I want to talk about two places in particular.

First up is the Welsh Mountain Zoo, situated on the northernmost part of Wales atop a mountain, where I thought we could see spectacular views as well as animals.

Well, we didn’t quite, and this is why in a nutshell:

Half the animals couldn’t be found (enclosures/cages were empty), the ones present weren’t really interesting, and the supposed nice view was a letdown.

 

Welsh Mountain Zoo

 

Welsh Mountain Zoo view

 

There’s a rather blah view, which you can enjoy while you sit in a druid ring freezing your bum off.

What’s druid ring doing in a zoo, anyway?

It was inhumanly cold when we went that day, even though it was summertime (23 June). The wind was really strong, making it feel even colder. The moment we got there, I wanted to jump back into the car and drive away.

The only reason we didn’t was because we’d already paid £22 to get in.

Piers gallantly let me wear his sleeveless padded jacket over my autumn coat and, still, I froze, as the wind whipped hair into my eyes for sport.

 

Very windy

 

Very windy

 

I tried to enjoy the outing but I was honestly quite miserable the whole time. The only “fun” I had was when Piers and I repeatedly joked about how crap the zoo was.

Well, I suppose I did like seeing some of the animals. I mean, it wasn’t an impressive show by any stretch but I love animals anyway, so there was that.

Here’s a bunch of them:

 

Welsh mountain goats
Welsh mountain goats

 

 

Welsh mountain kid
Welsh mountain kid

 

 

Humboldt
Humboldt penguin

 

 

Ring-tailed lemur
Ring-tailed lemur

 

 

Brown bear
Brown bear

 

 

Cotton top tamarin
Cotton top tamarin

 

 

Backtrian camels
Backtrian camels

 

 

We had planned to spend three or four hours at the zoo, take some slow walks, enjoy the view, maybe have lunch, etc. But it was so miserable and disappointing that we left after an hour and a half.

We drove on to the town with the ridiculously long name.

Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch (yep, that’s the town) is the longest town name in Europe and the second longest in the world.

The name is a Welsh sentence meaning “St. Mary’s Church in the hollow of the white hazel near the rapid whirlpool and the church of St. Tysilio with a red cave”.

Im. pres. sive. (Said with a brow-raising, dafuq did I just hear, look.)

 

Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch railway station house

 

Sidetrack: The record holder for longest place name in the world is Taumatawhakatangihangakoauauotamateaturipukakapikimaungahoronukupokaiwhenuakitanatahu in New Zealand.

It means “The summit where Tamatea, the man with the big knees, the climber of mountains, the land-swallower who travelled about, played his nose flute to his loved one”.

W. o. a. h. If that is not trippy, I don’t know what is.

I think it’s nuts to name a place using a convuluted sentence. It’s a bloody sentence not a name. Next, people are gonna be naming their babies in sentences, why not?

Example: Baby girl whose mother, Anne, met her father, Bob, under the big dark grey bridge by the pretty daffodils where they fell in love and Bob immediately proposed marriage to Anne using a cheezel he just happened to have in his pocket, while fluffy white clouds stood in the beautiful blue sky as silent but approving witnesses.

 

And the baby's name is...

 

There, make that a person name using whatever foreign language you like. Because you’re allowed to join loads of words together to make one word, only in foreign languages.

 

Okay back to Llanfair…etc.

The story is that, in the 1800s, the construction of a new road and railway crossing turned the small rural settlement into an important commercial centre, attracting all sorts of tradesmen.

Around 1860, a committee was formed to help attract even more trade and tourism and a cobbler came up with the idea of making the town have, like, the longest name in the world. (Except they didn’t reckon for New Zealanders to beat them; they should have added a few more clauses to their sentence when they could.)

It bloody worked, anyway.

 

Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch Vovlo garage

 

The name is probably the only reason anyone even goes there anymore today. We didn’t find much to look at. Just unremarkable buildings and roads. A very average, very quiet town.

There are only a few small attractions in the area (2 bridges, an old toll house and a 27-metre tall column built in 1815 to pay tribute to some marquess who had lost a leg in battle), but we didn’t have time to do anything other than stop to take photos of the town name.

 

James Pringle Weaver

 

This (above) is the James Pringle Weaver visitor-centre-cum-shop. It’s the main stopping point for tourists. Inside, you can buy souvenirs such as record-breaking-size train tickets or get your passport or postcards marked with the famous Llanfairpwllgwyngyll stamp.

And this is how you say Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch:

 

(If you can’t see the audio embed, click here.)

 

In Welsh, the letter w is read like a double o (w = oo). That’s easy. The hardest thing to say is probably the “ll”, which is pronounced like a “chl”, although not a hard or even soft c but more like an airy version of it (a bit like Darth Vader breathing).

 

Llanfair PG railway station

 

The actual railway station sign helps visitors pronounce the name by breaking the word into chunks, but it can’t explain the double ls.

Anyway, that was a mildly interesting diversion on the way to our next destination, Caernarfon, which was about 15 minutes’ drive away.

I don’t really want to think or talk about this town anymore after today because every time I do, I compulsively try to pronounce the name over and over to get it right and I end up with a sore tongue, an irritated throat and a brain threatening to implode on itself if I don’t stop.

So, it’s over to you now.

How to photograph hyperactive pets

I just have to share this cute little kitten.

It’s not mine. I met it at a coffee shop where I was having dinner and it was so delightful I had to take pictures of it despite the darkness.

WILL YOU JUST LOOK AT THAT!

IS IT TOO CUTE FOR WORDS OR WHAT?!

I know it’s dark and my camera is lousy (no flash lah, I using night vision mode) but will you just look at the adorable anime melty eyes?

The kitten very obligingly posed for pictures while I snapped at it nonstop. It is so unlike Scruffy, who would charge at the camera like a crazed hyena every time I so much as point it in his direction, even when I’m, like, a hundred metres away.

He’s a very enthusiastic doggy.

Cutey Kitty got a little excited during the photoshoot and tried to climb up my seat. And there it remained, perched cutely on the edge of the chair, until I could get a good, clear shot. (Ok lah I know it’s not clear it’s blur but it’s night lah can.)

I wish I could take it home. But I’m afraid Scruffy would eat it.

Scruffy the Lunch Thief eats anything he can get his paws on. In fact, the only way you can take a photo of Scruffy without having your camera mugged is to distract him with food or, in fact, anything, because Scruffy thinks everything is food.

Alternatively, you can trick him by scratching his belly while taking his picture because he can’t multi-task, so he can either enjoy his belly rub or he can try to eat the camera, his choice.

Or you could put him on the Goonfather’s belly while the Goonfather is lounging on his bigass executive chair playing Spider Solitaire, and then attract his attention by talking about milk sticks, beef jerkies and chewy bones.

I meant attract Scruffy’s attention, of course, not the Goonfather’s.

Scruffy is trapped on the Goonfather’s belly and doesn’t dare jump off because he’s afraid of heights.

MUAHAHAHAHAHAAA.

So there you go. Stay tuned for more lessons on tricking your pet into posing for photographs, which could be some time in the next millennium because I have returned my i-mode phone to StarHub so I shall be cameraless until I strike Toto and have enough money to buy a new camera or until I land a digital camera endorsement and get a free camera (yeah dream on).

In parting, Scruffy says: “Cameras taste weird.”