Pink Sneakers on the Go: A tale of a bar, a biker and a beagle in Wales

A tale of a bar, a biker and a beagle in Wales

Posted by Nora K ,

Had I not spotted that doggy in the window, I would never have hitched a ride on a vintage caboose en route to a village called Beddgelert and paid tribute to a hound named Gelert.

It all started with a billboard directing us to “the smallest bar in Wales”. Located mere steps from a 13^th century medieval fortress, Bar Bach was a gem of a find in the Welsh town of Caernarfon - that is, if you are able to accurately pronounce it. I must confess that I struggled to correctly enunciate, repeatedly garbling this tongue twister of a name. Like seriously, how challenging is it to say “Kar-Nar-Von”?

How and why Travel Bud and I ended up in a remote Welsh village is a tale best told another day, so those details will just have to wait, as this week’s scribble is about a biker and his dog that led us on a railway journey back in time.

Whether a gimmick or a trick, the wording on the placard outside the micro-pub worked like a charm and we had no choice but to saunter on in. Rustic and intimate, the décor was a mélange of wooden beams and stonework. The crackling fireplace added yet another layer of cozy to the Inn.

And, there we found Toby, lounging on a red leather covered barrel.

Next thing you know, Travel Bud and I were indulging in some Guinness and chatting up a storm with our newly found biker friend.

Uh - oh!

Drat! Meant to say Fiddlesticks instead!

Under normal circumstances, there is no way in Hell that I would strike up a convo with a heavily tattooed dude and not fear for my very existence. Whether you label me either a princess or an overly skittish prude, the sight of a Harley Davidson motorcade sends shivers of fear up my spine.

But alas, first impressions are oftentimes misjudgements of character.

The bond between the burly biker and his four-legged companion was undeniable. Toby was the epitome of gentleness and on his best behaviour. The pair had just returned from an excursion to the countryside, riding the rails on a narrow-gauge steam-engine choo-choo. The village of Beddgelert was a highly recommended stop, a picturesque spot where dogs cavorted and played and the home of a 13^th century hound named Gelert.

And with a woof and a paw-shake, Toby bid us a slobbered adieu.

Next post: Come along for a ride in an old-fashioned caboose as the journey continues.....

Post will be published in a week or so. Sometime the w/o May 11^th. Either Tuesday, Wednesday or thereabouts.

Stay home, stay safe, catch up on your reading and look up the Welsh folk-tale of Gelert, my friends!