Lost in Translation

Day 2 – Nov 19th

We spent last night cheating at Monopoly – NB. If you ever play Monopoly with us, we cheat. Every game. Be warned. Then we watched Seven. One of our favourite films.

Caernarfon Castle

We started the day full of hope and plans. Then realised we’d left our makeup at home. Now we’re not the kind of girls who won’t leave the house without makeup. On the contrary. Half the time we can’t even be arsed to wear it. Might wear it once or twice a week. But we were on holiday, appearing in video and photo footage. And we’re vegan so we couldn’t just nip out and buy whatever was around. We had no Internet. Our mum came to the rescue, locating places that sold Barry M makeup and giving us directions. So we started the day much later than we planned after getting lost in Bangor trying to find a Superdrug. Eventually made it to Caernarfon castle. North Wales has an amazing knack of only displaying road signs on one route into wherever you’re going and this always happened to be not on the route we were travelling. We made it to the castle. It’s stunning and perfect for the Zombie Apocalypse. We were there for 2 hours, exploring every inch. After a Red Bull break, we decided to head for Anglesey. We made it to Holyhead then got lost around the coastal path trying to find what we thought was Penhros Feliw castle and turned out to be a couple of standing stones in the middle of a field with very suspicious horses. Then we eventually found some Hut circles. A lot of Hut circles to be precise, still intact. We didn’t have time to go anywhere else as we had to be at the Ruthin Gaol tour by 9:30 so we headed towards Halkyn at the other end of North Wales. And got lost. Very lost. Turned out the Halkyn Travelodge wasn’t actually in Halkyn. After taking the wrong junction (Ryan’s fault, again) we wandered the lonely country lanes trying to find our way back to the A55. Couldn’t get back on it, like it was a magical road that just disappeared. When we did find our way back to it, we were pointing in the wrong direction. Then we got stuck behind what we suspect was a drunk driver doing 25 in a 40 zone, windscreen wipers on despite there being no rain and his car was misted up. Every time an oncoming car, he braked to practically a standstill. Tensions were rising, time was running out. We made it there at 7:10pm.

Our mum nagged us to leave the Travelodge by 8 to make sure we made it to the Gaol. But we’d printed off an AA route planner and it said the journey would take 31 mins. Plus we had detailed directions from the route planner so as usual we ignored our mum’s advice and left at about 8:50. By 9:35 pm we were hopelessly lost and miles from Ruthin Gaol. The route planner told us to go right. The sign pointed left. It told us to take a right at first set of traffic lights and we’d come to a roundabout half a mile away. Two miles later, down a dark country lane, there was still no roundabout. Tension in the car was reaching critical. Our tour was at stake. Had to phone our mum and get her to find a number for Beyond the Grave to tell them we would be late. Horribly, horribly late. Ryan got out and asked some drunken church goers for directions. Turned out, AA route planner meant turn right at first traffic lights in Mold. They’d missed an entire village off their route plan. Cat drove like an F1 pro. Ryan spent most of the North Wales trip claiming her driving scares the shit out of him. After her epic driving to reach the Gaol, we’re lucky he got back in the car. We told him safe sensible driving through the holiday would be boring. This kind of driving would make his heart race. For some reason he wasn’t at all grateful about the adrenaline rush. On the way we passed a place called Loggerheads. It couldn’t have been more apt. By now the tension in the car had reached explosion imminent. Lynx was shouting and swearing so much nearby sailors phoned their mothers to apologise. Cat just concentrated on not moving down pedestrians. Ryan was planning his funeral.

We made it to the Gaol at 10 pm. By this point, the silence amongst the party was heavily loaded. The friendship was fracturing. Lynx was furious, her rage causing natural disasters in several countries. Cat was praising herself on her driving skills at top speed through those bendy country lanes without crashing. Ryan was just thankful to still be breathing. We walked in to the Gaol and everyone cheered. The host told us to have a coffee to get over being lost. We cracked open a Red Bull and prepared to spend the night in an abandoned, haunted Gaol.

2 Comments

  1. This is hilarious. I screamed with laughter as I imagined Ryan gripping the Mini seats and clenching the door handle ready to leap to safety. Your swearing and driving’s not THAT bad!

    • precisely! He’s just a nervous passenger. We can laugh about it now, but at the time – so not funny.


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