Dear Mother and Others,
It is purely by miracle that I have arrived here in one piece and in time for my supper. Nothing exciting has happened to me yet, with possible exception being that when I got here the warden was out and I found myself alone in the hostel with one other fellow hosteller (male). The warden, however soon arrived back to find us enjoying black tea and cold toast together.
I have just washed my hair and am drying it, my boots, my gloves, etc. by the fire. The fellow hosteller, a university professor of maths at Bristol, has also lit a fire (real) and the room is rather grey with smoke. This other fellow is very interesting (and I hope he can't see all I'm writing from where he sits opposite me), and of nervous disposition. Perhaps he is here on doctors orders, recovering from a breakdown - I thought it could perhaps have been that he was new to teaching and that it was worrying him, but no, he's been at it for ten years. He, too, seems to be writing a letter. But enough scandal. Oh, and he's reading a book something like "Discovering the Flora and Fauna of Glaciated Greenland".
At the first hostel, at Grughywell, I was told off by the warden for writing the county name in Welsh on the letter, it took until Saturday to get there. They seem to come like that, wardens - either school-teacherish, impatient and bossy, or quite lax and a bit bored with their job. But whom I to tell, eh?
I came up through Lampeter and Aberyshoyth, one of my favourite towns in Wales. I went through Lampeter especially to look at the Coleg Prifysgol Dewi Sant, where Horis has had an offer of a place. It's quite nice of course, it was unfortunately Sunday at Abershoyth and nevertheless getting late in the day, so I couldn't look around much or get any presents or Welsh Christmas cards. I shall probably get the latter at Caernarfon on Wednesday on a rather roundabout tour from Pen-y-Pass to Lampeter.
The road from Machynlleth to Dolgellau is exceptionally striking. Unfortunately there immediately commenced a violent thunder and hailstorm, so it wasn't all that enjoyable, especially as one driver went at about 90 mph down all those hills - I had to shut my eyes. As you can see, I have no decent writing paper. I had three sheets left when I came out, and these I used for a letter to Christine. I must write a letter every night to keep myself amused and busy.
Well, the meals here are passable so far - except for the quantity! If I could eat all that it'd keep me going for a week. Of course the youth hostels are generally freezing in most places (this is what we generally find - David), and I was given ice-cream for supper tonight.
I haven't spoken a word of Welsh so far, but I trust the pace tomorrow will be more leisurely, and so I'll get around to it. Of course, I can't understand any of what they say, and with their accents, its difficult to tell whether its Welsh or English. Tomorrow I hope to find Tristan's friend - he speaks Welsh.
Tell Mr. F that I saw his friend Larry in Machynlleth - only when I realised who he was, it was too late to say hello. I might see him on the way back.
This weird fellow-hosteller says he's going to the same hostels as I am on the same nights, therefore, we'll be in the same hostel as each other three nights running. He walks, from Machynlleth to Dolgellau, twelve miles, over the top of Calder Idris - avoiding the hill tops, mind you - so's he doesn't get struck by lightening. Actually, there was a man in Crughywell YHA, but he was a drag. He walked too. Now for a cup of Bovril. (You should see his gorgeous boots).
Apart from a little boy with a speech defect in Crughywell, that's all I can think of for now. I'll probably write again, and this letter probably won't get there until after Christmas, but never mind. Now, for more adventure!
See you soon,
Love,
