View of clouds from our coach
Last Monday we set off by coach for a four-night stay in Llandudno, North Wales, with a company called Just Go! Holidays.
Our coach was due to pick us up in Bath at 9.10 in the morning and actually arrived only five minutes late, driven by a very affable and helpful Polish gentleman. To catch it, we had left home at about ten to seven, our bags making a considerable noise as we pulled them along the street. We caught the 7.15 bus, which got us into Bath at about ten past eight, and from there went to Wetherspoons for our customary pre-departure cooked breakfast.
I notice that Wetherspoons prices vary according to where you are. In less prosperous areas the prices seem to be lower, which I think is rather helpful of them.
Now, you might ask: how long does it take to get to Llandudno by coach? The answer is considerably longer than by car. The 206-mile journey would take about four hours and fifteen minutes by car, but ours took much longer because we had five or six pick-up points along the way. The driver also needed a 45-minute break after driving for a certain number of hours.
We eventually arrived at our hotel at about 5 p.m.
Among people of a certain age—and we were pretty much all of a certain age, with plenty of walking sticks and a number of wheelchairs in evidence—there is usually a good deal of friendly banter. Everyone is excited and positive and, for a few days at least, can leave some of their everyday cares behind.
Llandudno is a remarkable place. Much of the seafront seems to consist almost entirely of hotels. Ours, the Grand Hotel, stood prominently at the end of the bay next to the pier, and very grand it looked from the outside.
Our room was another matter.
We had absolutely no sea view—or indeed much of a view of anything. We looked instead into an inner courtyard where scaffolding had been erected while repairs were taking place. Françoise did not take particularly well to this and asked whether we could change rooms, but unfortunately the hotel was full.
The facilities themselves were pretty good. There was a large dining room, with dinner served between 5.30 and 7 p.m.; a sizeable lounge where entertainment sometimes took place; a bar with very reasonable prices—a medium glass of white wine was about £4.30—and a quiet room where you could sit and escape from the noise.
I have been on two-night coach breaks before, but I find them a little too short. Four nights is about the minimum I prefer. The first evening is spent settling in, after which you have three clear days for exploring, relaxing or joining the organised coach trips.
The Grand is a Britannia Hotel. Britannia does not enjoy the best reputation on the planet, but they do seem to be trying. This is apparently one of five of their UK hotels where standards are being improved, including better evening entertainment, so all credit to them for making the effort.
We paid about £300 per person, including coach travel, dinner, bed and breakfast, which struck me as pretty reasonable.
Breakfast offered porridge, fruit juice, fruit and the usual cooked selection. I’m not quite sure what fat was used for the frying because I developed indigestion afterwards, although I have to admit that I am particularly sensitive to such things.
Dinner was straightforward rather than elaborate: usually a choice of one meat dish and one fish dish, together with soup and a simple dessert, followed by coffee.
And so, after a journey that had occupied most of the day, we were installed in Llandudno for four nights—with the sea tantalisingly close, even if we couldn’t actually see it from our bedroom.
I have to say that the scenery in North Wales, with its valleys and mountains, is quite spectacular. There are trees everywhere, still looking wonderfully green at this time of year. On the journey up we were also privileged to see some extraordinary cloud formations, a sample of which you can see above.
The Romans were active in Wales, as they were in so many other parts of Britain, although when you look at the sheer number of castles and other historic structures in the landscape, you wonder where successive generations found the time, money and manpower to build them all.
Conwy Castle is particularly spectacular. It was built for Edward I in the late 13th century as part of his formidable network of castles across North Wales. Standing there today, it is difficult not to marvel at the scale of the undertaking.
The holiday included three day trips by coach. The general arrangement was that we would be taken somewhere, dropped off for a couple of hours and left to find our own way around. You can feel slightly like a lost soul when you first step off the coach in an unfamiliar place, but you soon get the idea of what’s going on, and the time passes quickly enough.
It was difficult to know quite what to wear. We had sunny periods interspersed with showers, but most people dressed sensibly. I took a waterproof top just to make sure and even carried a couple of umbrellas for us, although in the event they proved unnecessary. For mid-September the temperature was very reasonable, generally around 18–20°C.
Llandudno’s beach and sweeping bay are impressive, and there is quite a considerable tidal range. The privately owned pier is in good order. Although it contains the inevitable amusement machines and places selling alcohol, I didn’t find it unsightly or particularly tacky. At the far end of the pier there is a pub and a coffee bar, so nobody needs to go thirsty.
You may have heard of the Great Orme, the enormous limestone headland that dominates Llandudno. It is a wonderful mixture of cliffs, green pasture, grazing sheep and, above all, plenty of sky. My brother, whom I visited while we were there, kindly took me around it by car, which gave me an opportunity to appreciate the scale and beauty of the place.
One of the pleasures of this sort of holiday is the people you travel with. Everyone tends to be very open. I will happily go up to complete strangers and make some suitably dark observation about whatever happens to be going on, usually accompanied by my customary waspish sense of humour. Fortunately, people generally took it in good heart.
There were inevitably one or two practical hiccups. On one day the main lift failed, which in a hotel containing quite a number of elderly guests could have been a serious problem. However, within a couple of hours no fewer than four men had arrived to deal with it, and before long the lift was back in good working order.
This works well as the concluding reflection. I’ve kept the personal tone, because the piece becomes more interesting when it moves from simply describing Llandudno to what the holiday taught you about yourself.
So yes, this holiday has taught me something about the sort of breaks I need. Every now and again I need to get away from my computer and beyond the four walls of our lovely little bungalow. A change of scene does me good.
What I really like is that from the moment you arrive to be picked up by your bus to the moment you get dropped off at the end of the tour you don’t have to think or plan and just go along with the crowd, do what you want and switch off your worries.
At the same time, it is only a matter of time before I begin to yearn for home again. I reckon five or six days is about right for me: long enough to feel that I have genuinely been away, but not so long that I start wondering why on earth I left home in the first place.
I have no desire whatsoever to fly. My passport has expired, and at the moment I don’t have any particular wish to renew it, although of course you never know what might happen or where life might unexpectedly take you.
Another consideration when travelling abroad is insurance. Once you are over 80, the premiums can become stratospheric, particularly if you have pre-existing medical conditions. Even without those complications, annual travel insurance can run into several hundred pounds, with the United States frequently requiring considerably more expensive cover.
Britain, meanwhile, has an extraordinary amount to offer, and travelling by coach has a certain simplicity about it. Someone else does the driving, your accommodation is arranged, breakfast and dinner appear at the appropriate times, and each morning you can decide whether to join an excursion or simply please yourself.
I also like having another holiday somewhere on the horizon. So I am already wondering what we might do over Christmas—and perhaps whether we can sneak in another little expedition before then.
After all, our time is our own. Within reason, we can go where we like, when we like, and do what we like.
That in itself is something worth celebrating.
