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A hall lotta love
Neal Keeling7/ 7/2008
'DON'T go up there today, not in this weather. If you do, concentrate on the road and let your wife look at the view."
I ignored the advice of the wimp who was booking out and asked the hotel receptionist for directions.
Even in light drizzle and mist the view from the top of Horse Shoe Pass was wondrous - a downward glance on true North Wales terrain.
For a moment this urban boy was relating to nature again - like a young William Wordsworth I was pulsing with awe.
I had to stop the car and gaze for a while and then return a second time in sunshine.
The road climbs then zigzags down past unstable looking banks of slate at a quarry to Llangollen.
This was just one golden memory from a historic weekend for the Welsh.
A sizeable chunk of South Wales had made an exodus to Wembley to sing in vain for the Bluebirds of Cardiff. But for once I was oblivious to football.
We were staying at a 650-year-old former stately home - Bodidris Hall, near the village of Llandegla.
One mile down a winding lane the grey, creeper-clad walls retain a crumbling grandeur.
It was bought in 2002 by David and Stephanie Booth who have made their money from food supermarkets and have a string of hotels in Denbighshire. The couple were regulars at `Boddy Hall' and heard it was being sold with planning permission to build 21 new rooms.
They moved fast to stop the heritage vandals and saved it from a Travelodge-like expansion insisting it should retain its character and be run `for love not profit'.
So this quirky retreat lives on. The stairs built unevenly in the 16th century to confuse unwelcome swordsmen creak, the landings creak, the floorboards in the bedroom creak. The authenticity of the place is confirmed in every step.
Away from life in car-choked Manchester, the silence of the beautiful grounds - ponds, swans and a surrounding landscape of 6,500 acres of countryside - was the equivalent of having an Indian head massage.
The reception is plastered with newspaper cuttings, reviews, tacky plates for this and that awards.
All this bric-a-brac clutter is not necessary. The simple truth is this: the service is first class and the food top-notch.
They just need to ditch the tragic plastic and silk plants that fill every corner. A flourish of freesia or the scent of real jasmine or lilies would be welcome.
A `Welsh breakfast' set me up for the day - black pudding, bacon, sausage, eggs - all locally sourced. I had taken on enough fuel to climb Snowdon.
The next morning a bowl of Scotch porridge oats, maple syrup and strawberries, was another high-octane gem.
Dinner was of the same standard and stylish - mozzarella with beetroot and rocket, Welsh lamb on a bed of aubergine and peppers, and poached pear in orange liqueur.
In Llangollen the faint rain continued but the semi-gloom was lifted courtesy of the fine women in the tourist information centre.
Denise behind the counter knew Judith in the Cottage Tea Rooms down the road, who spoke to a volunteer on the platform station and I was on my way. They had sorted me out a ticket for an idyllic two hours with my three-year-old daughter, Anna.
While her mum made a sharp exit to the Wild Pheasant Hotel on the edge of town for a makeover we took the train.
The Llangollen Railway was holding a special weekend and was infested with earnest looking adolescent boys and men taking photos of locomotives.
Anna was adamant that she was going to ride on Thomas the Tank Engine after clocking his picture in the brochure.
"He's snoozing in his shed," I lied and added: "But Derek the Diesel is coming out just for you."
The line to Carrog hugs the River Dee and is a site of special scientific interest with red squirrels and otters as well as diesel heads.
After the train adventure I upped the ante with Anna. Introducing a three-year-old to Welsh heritage is tricky. She took a shine - while hyper - to the dungeons at Chirk castle and fleetingly I was tempted to leave her there. But I was glad I didn't. As she flitted through the gardens her reaction to a 1720 sculpture of Hercules gazing down a tree-lined boulevard was priceless: In toddler Manc she declared: "'E 'asn't got any trousers on 'as 'e".
The castle's contents were beyond her but the gardens, with huge lawns, quirky corners, and ice cream shack, rare pig pens, appealed as much to her as the dominant posse - the Saga magazine reading mob in waterproofs and very sensible shoes.
Rooms at Bodidris Hall cost £99 per person including bed and breakfast. Family rooms cost £169 per night. For more information call 01978 790434 or e-mail reception@ bodidrishall.com or visit the website at bodidrishall.com. For more information about Chirk Castle and other Welsh gardens visit gardensnorth wales.co.uk
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