Seeing as our intended trip to Big Pit had fallen through on short notice, Caby and I decided to hop on a train to a few towns over and see Caerphilly Castle instead. Caerphilly, as you guys know from the 2024 trip, is the home of Burger Mountain, but no, no Mountain Monsters to be conquered today, only lovely castles.
Honestly, I always love when Caby and I go out and explore on our own. I mean, in the moment, it can be a little stressful as I confidently go one direction (the incorrect direction), but then you get to the destination and it's lovely! Caerphilly itself, if I recall, Caby referred to as the epitome of Welsh towns, and it sure was the epitome of Welsh weather out when we got there. (Was nice and warm though!)
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The trains were doing a promotion that week to encourage no-ticket tap in and tap out a la the Underground—the length of your journey one way would only cost £1 if you used your card instead of purchasing a ticket (so £2 round trip). I was pretty stoked about it, because it means no waiting on tickets and then missing a train, but missing it was actually a good thing because that train was going to Cardiff Bay and not Cardiff Central (no comment on if this really happened, but you can bet Cammy would've rushed onto that train mindlessly if it did!). Caby warmed up to it after some initial confusion.
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The partial length of Caerphilly Castle is surrounded by a moat where we were mobbed by birds. Seriously, swans, pigeons, ducks, you name it, they were hanging the fuck out in the water and looking for food in the park. There was an ice cream truck parked nearby, so it was a pretty sound plan on their parts. (Mobs of seagulls love to surround bystanders in Cardiff Central also, them birds is fearless. I've seen it on multiple trips now.)
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Caby and I went the scenic route into the castle over a long bridge and down a windy path flanked on both sides by liquid, which was mildly confusing, but a lot more adventurous. One of the best shots I've gotten on any of these trips is that one of the row of townhouses past the lake, those wonderfully British segregated fields of green and tan behind them. Caby's on-and-off 90s psychological horror coming of age story starring a group of Welsh teenagers Wyn's World wasn't far from our minds at all; this is where they live! She also thought she saw a slag pile somewhere in the landscape, of course infamous for being a gigantic fucking safety hazard that the UK government only started to clean up after they started killing schoolchildren. Awful story.
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In lighter news, we make it into the castle here! Here's some of the best shots I got, provided the internals were bright enough for a PowerShot photo to develop. (Otherwise, I'd just use my phone.) One of my favorite features of Caerphilly Castle was their use of projectors and lighting to bring intrigue and motion to the rooms without having to disturb the stone or create displays that kids could break. You can see this pretty clearly in the fireplace shot in the table, it's pretty slick.
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We made our way up the main tower, across the roof and back down, through a long and eerie hall still echoing with the voices of servants (those might've been speakers), into the courtyard and through the great hall, which you can see opulently restored in verdant green and reds. One of Caby's dad's friends got married in a place like that, and they couldn't find any medieval costumes for then-baby Trys, so they just brought him as a pirate instead. Pretty fun. Caby by this point was starting to feel pretty unwell, I'm guessing due to the social commotion, so we opted instead to peel out for the Burger King across the street. (Find the hidden Superdrug!)
I do have one last shot though for you. Up on the roof, we heard some kind of story being told on the ground below, and the exit gave us an ideal time to watch the smoke rising from the dragons that went with it. Courtesy of Cadw (who maintains Caerphilly Castle and lots of other landmarks in Wales and who Caby and I became members with while we were there, admittedly largely so I could get a book I wanted for the price of our already-paid admission), I'll quote their version of the story rather than mangle it myself.
Long, long ago, a red dragon lived peacefully here in Wales. All was well until one day the land was invaded, by a white dragon. The red dragon resisted fiercely, and the two creatures battled in the skies above this green and pleasant land.
On and on the conflict raged and such were the terrible, ear-splitting roars of the two feuding dragons, the people of the land became ill; crops failed, animals were dying, women lost their babies.
Someone had to break up the fight.
Enter Lludd — a Welshman of extraordinary bravery, who lured the two dragons towards a giant cauldron filled to the brim with mead. Like bees to honey, the dragons took the bait and were soon drinking their fill, becoming more and more intoxicated as they did.
Tying the now docile beasts in a giant silk sheet, Lludd buried them deep beneath Dynas Emrys, a mountain in Eryri, Snowdonia.
There the sleeping dragons lay for centuries. The land, animals and people living on it were restored to good health. Until the day King Vortigern decided he would build a castle on the very same mountain.
Every time the walls of his impressive fortress were built, the land shook and the walls tumbled to the ground. Time and again the walls went up, and time and again, they crumbled and fell. In frustration he consulted a wise man named Merlin, who told him about the sleeping dragons buried deep underground — and suggested that they might be the root of the problem.
Vortigern dug down and freed the dragons who immediately took to the skies and resumed their vicious battle. This time though the red dragon was victorious, defeating the invading white beast. Vortigern built his castle, and peace returned to the land.