Caernarfon

Putting up the camp beds have put up too much of a challenge for Luke Baggins and Picker Packer so in the end Red Riding Hood begrudgingly helped them set there beds up, well she probably wouldn’t have done had she known that her chosen airbed was going to be flat.

Our tent is nicely situated next to a gorgeous dyke and we are just a stones throw from the children’s play area, Picker Packer has just noticed someone trip over the guy ropes of their tent and nearly knock the tent over he thinks they might be pissed, a state of mind we are all hoping he will avoid when he gets paid on Wednesday because he is bad enough sober!

Picker Packer says as we sit in our camping chairs waiting for the kettle to boil for yet another cup of tea, “Here Michol, Norfolks nice you know, still its peaceful here in it, I like the trees Michol and the little lake and all those fackin sheep, Is Miss Boley asleep Michol?”

Its Saturday our first day here, all the week stretching in front of us, full of unknowns, but I live for the present, the “now”, not the future, Red Riding Hood is still sulking and not yet returned after saying she was going home but Picker Packer is back from the “Free” showers, he says he is going to have loads of showers this week.

Picker Packers face looks a bit cut up, he was using Red Riding Hoods shaver, the one she uses for her legs and by the looks of it I don’t think it was made for Picker Packers wiry stubble.

Eventually Red Riding Hood returns and cooks us our lovely tea which comprises of chicken curry and Picker Packer does the washing up which takes us to bedtime, how I wish I had packed my indigestion tablets, but soon I fall asleep and have a lovely dream.

I dream, I can fly, and it’s a right revelation, I cant understand why I haven’t discovered I could do this before, all these years I have been walking around and now I find I can fly through the air, but I am not really that good at it yet, in fact sometimes I find I cant take off at all, especially when I am showing someone else my newly discovered skill, or someone is chasing me and I need to get away in a hurry.

I awake at 9:50am Sunday Morning and discover I cannot fly after all because its all been a dream ,reality seeps back in, its been raining most of the night and is still raining now, Picker Packer is talking to Luke in his tent and the conversation is going something like this.

“I know what am gunna do, Ill get my own cup and plates with my name on it Luke and err there’s this plate I always use at Master Shrek’s a blue and red one and a cup and my own bowl, I just gotta get some of my own liquid and use the sink in my bedroom Luke and then I wont piss Master Shrek off..”

This conversation is acknowledged by a sleepy Luke saying, “Yeah” at the correct moment before Picker Packer continues, “When I sit in my fackin bedroom I am just giving Shrek and Jiggy some space but they think I am being arrogant”

I lay there for a while trying to keep quiet and thankful that Luke chose to be in the same part of the tent with Picker Packer scared to even move or cough in case Picker Packer realises I am awake and starts directing his conversation my way.

Eventually Luke and Picker Packer decide to get up and make breakfast, Red Riding Hood must still be feeling a bit grumpy because she says if Luke is making breakfast she isn’t having any because last time Luke cooked anything she got food poisoning.

As I crawl out of my pit into the hallway which is covered in puddles from last nights rain and the steady drizzle of this grey Sunday morning I see Picker Packer holding a frying pan and a plate and then his trousers fall down which makes him drop the frying pan so that all the oil and the bacon land on the wet grass and thereby breaking rule 3c) of the campers rule book, campers must not dispose of oil on the grass.

Picker Packer quickly pull back up his pants and complains that he left his belt at Paul’s house who lives at Marsh when that girl said he was too crazy to share a tenancy with them and went crying to the land lord.

Miss Boley has been a bit naughty this morning so we test out our new punishment by putting the muzzle on her but this is quickly removed because it is stopping her eating the lovely burnt bacon that has just landed in the grass.

Meanwhile Red Riding Hood is sat in front of our new heater, the one we bought last year at Skipsea, she then says if its ok if she turns it down a bit because she is too hot, well she is only say about 12 inches away, so I point this out insinuating that maybe she could be a bit selfish.

So that’s it, shes taking her ball home, she is on the phone to her mum crying saying I am always picking on her and she wants to go home, meanwhile Picker Packer has returned from doing the washing up after a conversation which the lady sharing the sink next to him about comparisons with Fairy and Happy Shopper washing up liquid.

Hey its now evening time on Sunday 27th May, Picker Packer has returned from having a poo and he shares with me one of his secrets he says he has never told anyone…

“Here Michol, you know when you have a poo mate and someone’s occupying the next cubicle, well I always put a bit of toilet roll down the pan so when my load lands it doesn’t make as big a plop”

We all think Picker Packer might be metamorphosing into a fly, you know like that chap called er something Brundle in the Film “The Fly” who teleports himself with a fly and gets his DNA mixed up and subsequently turns into one.

All the cuts he had on his face yesterday look much more pronounced today and his ear looks a bit loose like it could drop off any minute, we decide to nickname him henceforth as “Picker Packer Brundle”.

When we question him about where all the cuts are coming from he says he does not know but does mention something about a sheep?

Also today on our walk round Caernarfon we bought a Gazebo from Argos for outside the front of the tents because it just will not stop raining and we also had a look at the Castle and did a bit of shopping in Morrisons where Picker Packer Brundle telephoned his mummy.

Luke Baggins and Red Riding Hood are trying to play football in the “play area” in between the showers but has I am now writing this in my notebook they are in fact all huddled up under the picnic table.

Its literally bouncing it down but the Gazebo is offering some protection from it all but the rain is now running down the sloped roof and on to the tent before dripping through the entrance into a pan, Picker Packer has retreated into his bedroom where he has just told me he is thinking of painting?

I tell Picker Packer that I wonder what people did in the olden days before they had TVs to entertain them, Picker Packer cracks back quickly with “Same as I am going to do now when I go into the shower michol”

Its Sunday night and we are all about to go to booboos, Red Riding Hood asks if we are going to go to sleep now but Picker Packer says No – We are having a break dancing competition.

I did something rather silly today which is still troubling me as I try to visit dream world, I left the camping fridge plugged into the cigarette lighter socket for about 5 hours after I stopped driving tonight and its totally flattened the battery.

I have been asking round the camp trying to find out if anyone has any jump leads but it seems no body does, I promise myself that in the morning I will go up to reception and ask them who own the camp if they have got any and with that I drift off into a dreamless confused sleep.

Monday morning and I have asked them guys up at reception if they have any jump leads, they both seem to stutter quite a lot but anyway the blokes been down with his jeep but failed to start our Ford Focus Cmax and guess what its raining again.

All the electrics have now gone haywire, the Speedo is indicating 10mph even though the car is obviously not moving and loads of clicking noises are coming from the ignition when I turn it so I have surrendered and decided to phone the RAC.

The RAC man has given me a electronic questionnaire to fill in about his performance etc and I gave him “outstanding” for everything except his looks which I said I would of preferred a female with big baubles.

The RAC man suggested we leave the car ticking over for half hour before taking it for a drive, he recommends Bangor to us after Picker Packer enquires about some place “Nice” with lots of sheep?

We didn’t really have a lovely day in Bangor because it was as usual raining but I did spend £27 on buying Miss Boley a lovely pink lead and matching collar and I also spent a tenner on a decent camping knife whereas Red Riding Hood bought a Tiger bag and Luke Baggins bought a ball.

Picker Packer didn’t buy anything but he later said he did have a good time in the fields surrounding “Bang-her” as he called it with the local livestock, when we got back Luke couldn’t put together his pump properly for his new ball and then got angry with me for putting it together wrong.

Red Riding Hood made another beef curry for a change, which got a bit burnt because butane has a higher flame temperature than methane (due to more Carbon-Hydrogen bonds) and I told her to leave it simmering for a while as a result it wasn’t as nice as it should have been and it took me ages to wash up after.

Still it continued to rain…

While I was talking to this bloke when I was washing up Red Riding Hood went to do the laundry and Picker Packer went to the gift shop to buy a key ring for his key for the Salt Pot Mansion where he lives with Master Shrek and The Knight Rider.

Picker Packer would like to say at this point “for the record”, that The Knight Rider has had a key for Salt Pot Mansion for ages but he still hasn’t got one, he thought that Master Shrek might have given him one by now and on his new key fob it says in bold letters “Tenancy not Eviction”.

Sometimes being an alcoholic, I would just love to settle down for the evening with a nice cold lager, I gotta admit that Picker Packer was very good not drinking himself but the fact that he had no money till Wednesday probably did help my cause.

I know having a drink now after nearly 3 years dry would be like playing Russian roulette and like my Higher Power likes to do occasionally I was sent a test when a bloke called John came under the Gazebo with us for a chat…

It turns out that he was in the AA for ten years and then went back drinking but he says he has learned how to control it by just drinking at weekend and spending the weekdays dry with the help of his wife.

Has he sat there drinking his tenth can of weak lager he confessed that if he was left to his own devices he would quickly sink into alcoholic despair and added that he admired my determination to stay dry for so long.

While we were all sat chatting a pompous arrogant looking bloke in a posh BMW has pinched the kids ball they were playing with and took it in his tent, probably because it kept bouncing against his fly sheet him being situated so close to the kids playground area.

When Red Riding Hood runs to Picker Packer because she says he looks “meaner” than me and asks him to interfere John who we have been talking to wobbles over and pleads with the bloke and they are thankfully reunited with their ball.

Picker Packer Brundle jokes that he is glad the bloke with the BMW hasn’t got hold of his balls, he also tells us both about Bernadette which we all assumed was a girl they way he was talking about her but it turns out that Bernadette was in fact a sheep he met in the fields near Bangor today.

Soon it is bed time and after reading Luke, Picker Packer and Red Riding Hood their bedtime story which today was “The Three Little Pigs” we decide to call it a day and retire to bed, has Picker Packer counts sheep while tossing and turning and I drift off into a deep sleep.

Next morning I awake to the sound of Picker Packer talking to the person in the neighbouring tent who has come over to complain about being nearly hit by a flying frying pan after Brundle lost his temper with the bacon while cooking breakfast and kicked the cooker and frying pan into the air.

Its Tuesday 30th June, Luke is complaining that he has lost another football, this time because one of his friends has kicked it off into a bush somewhere and Red Riding Hood is screaming that she has just seen a Rat, a big brown one with big eyes and a pink tail.

But as I crawl out of my pit I realise it’s a glorious sunny day and we have planned to conquer Snowdon today, which at 3354ft is England and Wales tallest mountain.

After retrieving the frying pan and cooking breakfast which comprised of yet more fried foot we set off for Llanberis which I was told by a welsh bloke on the way up is near the home of the grave Gelert the heroic dog

Gelert's owner was Prince Llewellyn who lived at the foot of Snowdon. He was the prince's favourite dog and he served as a loyal friend and hunting companion. One day Llewellyn and his wife went out hunting, leaving their baby son with a nurse and a servant. The nurse and the servant went for a walk leaving the baby alone.

When the prince and his wife returned, Gelert came running out of the lodge towards his master; the dog was covered in blood and wagging his tail. Llewellyn rushed into the baby's room to find the cradle overturned, the bloodstained bedclothes thrown all over the floor and no sign of his son.

Filled with anger and grief, he thrust his sword through Gelert. As the dog died, his cries were answered by the sound of a baby crying from behind the overturned cradle. Llewellyn pulled aside the cradle to find his son unharmed, and the bloody body of a huge wolf next to him.

Filled with remorse, Llewellyn buried Gelert in a meadow nearby, to which the village of Beddgelert (Gelert's grave) owes its name.

It took us some 3 ½ hours to reach the summit where we were surprised to find building work ongoing there, in fact a new summit building was under construction which meant all the big fat people (who wobble) could no longer get that far on the train.

It was totally cloudless when we reached the summit and the view was absolutely breathtaking, you could see for literally miles though I could not make out Scotland and Ireland though it is rumoured on an absolutely cloudless day you should be able to.

One guy joked that even the sheep wear oxygen masks up here!

It was during our descent when I phoned my dad Wonderwood that we heard about our garage being robbed and Luke, Red Riding Hood and Stigs beloved motorcycles being pinched called affectionately Christine and The Falcon.

This spoiled what would have been the best day of our holiday as we discussed endlessly on the way down who could have done it, we concluded clearly someone who was well aware we were in Wales and the car was not blocking the motorcycles in the back of the garage.

I knew my dad was insured so we planned what items we would put on the insurance claim form when we got back to Bradley in a few days, here is one of the lists we drew up;

1 Ferrari, 2 KX125 Motorbikes, 1 pair of Luke’s underpants, 1 gigantic trampoline, 2 top of the range mountain bikes, 1 pair of Red Riding Hoods thongs and a Blow Up Sheep.

Anyway we phoned up The Gangster, one of Bradley’s most feared and villainous characters and he promised to put word out “on the streets” and a hefty bounty on the culprits heads unless the bikes are returned, indeed The Gangster is like a mafia leader of many other equally sideous characters such has The Tasmanian Devil, Diesel and Hotwire to name but a few.

With the fantastic views and the glorious weather me, Luke and Red Riding Hood loved the walk up the mountain but to Picker Packer it was shear heaven with all them lovely welsh sheep to choose from.

On arrival back at the tent Picker Packer crawled over to his little camp-bed saying “Michol, my legs have gooone (sic) to sleep but my eyes are still open Michol”

However me, Luke and Red Riding Hood had just recently completed the 3 Yorkshire Peaks walk for charity and were much more acclimatised to ascending mountains.

Miss Boley was soon fast asleep though on Red Riding Hoods bed, I don’t think she felt she could relax outside with all them rats crawling around, I myself saw one and it didn’t look too bothered about my presence as it sat nibbling on some scrap of bacon left over from another of Picker Packers tantrums with the camping cooker.

In some ways Picker Packer reminded me of the character “Frank” in the TV Program “Some Mothers Do Have Em”, in that whatever he set out to do would no doubt turn into a disaster.

“Its so fackin boring Michol, then I just had a couple of days off to find some accommodation and look for a job and they put me back six weeks waiting to do my forklift course Michol. Bastards they are. I nearly passed my car test when I was 22 but I reversed over a telephone box Michol”.

After tea and after a long day we soon were ready for bed that night, my legs didn’t ache so bad but I felt soothingly tired and good, lots of exercise does seem to release loads of endorphins in my brain acting as a natural anti-depressant.

As I dropped off I could still hear Luke repeating what Picker Packers mum said to us on the phone ages ago when we phoned her up…

“Oh I know Michooool, Michol from up North, he came down here one time with Philip, it was such a change for us as we are so used to Philip bringing sheep back”

That night I dreamt our tent was attacked by Rats, you know killer rats like those from the James Herbert classic but Picker Packer turned into the emperor from Star Wars and started firing force lightning at them making them retreat.

In my dream I then got in my car but it wouldn’t start because it was attached to a full sized family chest freezer that was draining all the power and I was trying frantically to disconnect it to escape.

I awoke in a sweat and then I went outside for a midnight wee and was horrified to see about half dozen of the pink tailed little rascals crawling round the tent eating the scraps left from the campers. They can chew through steel cables and concrete I thought as I returned to my bed so really the thin nylon skin of the tent wouldn’t cause too much trouble but surprisingly they didn’t harm the tent at all.

Wednesday morning and the rain was back with vengeance, it was that heavy summer rain which comes in huge drops, we didn’t bother with breakfast today because I think we were all fed up of fried food and Picker Packer couldn’t wait to get his hands on his money.

We walked into Carnarfon getting drenched in the process but we were past caring really, I bought some more megabytes for my brain from Argos so I could store more of the information that Picker Packer keeps feeding me.

Master Shrek said that after a while Picker Packer starts repeating himself but I could see no sign of that yet, anyway we followed the crowded little streets over to the nearest link cash machine and he inserted his card into the slot…

Well there was no money in and that was it!

It took me, Luke and Red Riding Hood all our strength to drag Packer away from the beeping machine, which was beeping in protest to the rain of karate kicks it had been subjected to.

“I knew this would fackin happen Michol, I had a fackin day off from packing those boring boxes to find myself somewhere to live because Master Shrek wants me out now them bastards have docked my fackin money”

It took us a while to calm him down and I reasoned with him that it was probably due to the bank holiday making payments late as I retrieved his cash card from the machine, we then all had fish and chips at a Chinese chip shop in the rain in front of the castle while Picker Packer told us all how bad his life was.

Has he told us his tale of woe, Luke and Red Riding hood were amused when a group of musicians came over and started playing their violins.

Afterwards we went back to camp to retrieve the car and drove over to The Slate Museum at Llanberis, more to go somewhere free and get out of the incessant rain than our shared interest in the mining of slates.

However it was quite interesting

The Welsh Slate Museum is situated in the Victorian workshops of the Dinorwig Quarry at Gilfach Ddu, Llanberis. The quarry closed in 1969 and the site was taken over as a museum during the early 1970s

Slate quarrying in Wales began on a small scale in the eighteenth century. It was mainly produced around Blaenau Ffestiniog, Bethesda, Llanberis, Nantlle, Corris and Llangollen/Glyn Ceiriog and was exported widely from small ports such as Caernarfon or purpose-built like Porthmadog, Port Dinorwig or Port Penrhyn. Narrow-gauge railways, such as the Ffestiniog connecting Blaenau Ffestiniog and Porthmadog, were constructed to link the quarries with the ports and with the nearest town or main-line railway. Extracting, splitting and dressing the slate took place at the quarries. Slate was quarried from stepped galleries on the mountainsides, excavated pits or by underground deep-mining techniques. Slate had many uses including roofing, gravestones, steps and hearths. In the 1880s Blaenau Ffestiniog produced 139,000 tons of dressed slate a year and employed more than 4000 workers. Conditions were extremely harsh and accidents frequent. Unguarded machinery, roof falls and lung diseases all took their toll. Mine owners became extremely wealthy. For example, profits from the Penrhyn Quarry at Bethesda were used to build Penrhyn Castle and Port Penrhyn.

Early quarries used water as their primary energy source. A system of dams was sometimes constructed to supply water to the water wheels; this was often transported for long distances in wooden- or slate-lined leats. Steam revolutionised matters, but sometimes water wheels were retained to save the expense of bringing in coal or wood as fuel. Croesor Quarry had its own electricity generator by 1900 and an electrically powered tramway as early as 1905.

By the 1870s slate mining had become one of the most important Welsh industries.

Penrhyn quarry was the largest slate quarry in the world. The slate industry peaked in the 1890s when half a million tons were produced and nearly 17,000 men were directly employed. About five million tons of rock required excavating to reach this figure. At the end of the nineteenth century Wales produced over four-fifths of the total UK slate. After the First World War the industry began to decline - funds dried up, imports grew, roofing tiles became cheaper than slate, and the workforce left to find easier ways of making a living. Many remaining quarries continued to use costly, obsolete working methods. Quarries gradually closed, the quarrying districts became rundown and people left. When Dinorwig closed in 1969, only a handful of producers remained. Today only two mines are open, employing a small workforce.

We learnt all this with two indoor free presentations, the first was a cinema like arena and at the second, one of the actual workers did a presentation on splitting slates, it is highly recommended and even Miss Boley was allowed in to watch.

On our way back to camp we dropped Picker Packer at the phone box so he could phone his mum, at least that’s what he claimed to be doing as he got out of the car however we all thought that either he had buggered off to the pub or he had gone chasing the poor sheep round the nearby fields.

As the rain became even heavier me, Red Riding Hood, Miss Boley and Luke started to suffer the symptoms of cabin fever stuck in the tent, I was so frustrated by the weather I think I could of just burst into tears.

My dad Wonderwood phoned me to let me know he was getting the Garage door fixed tomorrow and my brother The Ticking Bomb had kindly sweated his bollocks off to get my GPX250 (shiitehawk) safely into the dining room out of the way of the possible return of the thieves.

It was only about 4:30pm when Picker Packer got back moaning that nobody loved him not even his mummy since he had offered to visit her and she had said that would be okay provided she isn’t “busy”.

So we decided since the rain had eased off a little to walk back to Caernarfon to get a bite to eat and stretch our legs a bit, when I was standing at the cash machine (yet again) Picker Packer had the entire queue behind me in hysterics at the following statement,

“I don’t wanna go back to the fackin tent yet Michol and sit in the chair waiting for the kettle to boil and watching for some totty to come along that aint coming, fackin hell no wonder Michol I have upset so many sheep and the farmers, I get so bored”

But after all filling our stomachs with a lovely sarnie from Subway©™ we did eventually drift back to camp to do just that, the only totty I spoke to was The Ice Queen on the other end of Red Riding Hoods phone.

She wanted to fill me in on the happenings in Bradley with regards to our missing motorcycles and after the conversation drew to a close Red Riding Hood complained at me for using £3.62 of credit on her phone.

I spent the rest of the evening waiting for Picker Packer to make cups of tea and teasing Luke who was playing with some more friends he had found by telling him it was time for his boo-boos and I was going to read him “Hansel and Gretal” tonight.

Picker Packer said he might start going to “morning coffee” with the old biddies when he gets back from this holiday and Pipster from Bradley phoned me up to say he had found one of our bikes, the best one we call Christine.

Luke and Red Riding Hood were over the moon about the news and we all went to sleep that night feeling much better, well apart from our friends outside the rats crawling about, the pitter patter of raindrops on the tent and someone’s snoring we slept soundly.

I cant remember any dreams that night but woke up to silence, where was everybody? Normally you can hear Picker Packer upsetting someone or something but just quietness.

It was finally Thursday our last full day here and I dragged myself out of my pit and wondered out into another grey day of drizzling rain to see Picker Packer and Luke returning from the showers, I would of thought they would have had enough showers this week but they wanted more.

Red Riding Hood was still asleep no doubt dreaming of one of her many admirers

she had found on this holiday to add to the many others she had waiting in the wings at home.

Thankfully the day had come when Picker Packer was finally going to be paid so we all bundled into the car, again like yesterday, without any breakfast to head over to Caernarfon for me to spend another £2 on car park fees while Picker Packer went to do battle with another cash machine.

Unbelievably he hadn’t been paid yet again and he was almost at the point of tears this time, with nothing better to do to pass on the time we decided to go find the local Job Centre on the minute chance he might get his money and I might just get reimbursed the £40 I had lent him so far.

Against all odds the Job Centre was very helpful promising to transfer the claim down to Wales provided the Job Centre at Huddersfield would authorise it, apparently Picker Packer had failed to inform the people that matter that he was going on holiday for a week and they thinking he wasn’t attending his boring course at Oxfam with the dinosaurs, they had suspended his money.

No dogs were allowed inside the Job Centre so I was forced to stay outside while Picker Packer went in with Luke and Red Riding Hood who pretended they were his kids and kept complaining to “daddy” that they were hungry and “how was they going to get home?”

This did the trick and the guy behind the desk told them to come back about 2pm when hopefully it would be sorted out, so again for the next two hours we felt like fugitives roaming round the now familiar streets of Caernarfon.

Eventually many showers and another lot of Fish and Chips later he was finally paid and I got my £40, which I had budgeted for, and we drove off to Bangor in the now developed monsoon.

While Picker Packer went to say goodbye to Bernadette the sheep and her friends me, Luke, Red Riding Hood and Miss Boley walked down the cobbled streets looking for the last of our presents.

Luke bought his mum, The Ice Queen, a suck-able Willy and The Ice Queen’s best boyfriend for 10 years the Russian Spy a whip, while Red Riding Hood bought her mum Dominating Donna (who is The Ice Queens sister and soon to be her neighbour) a pair of green thongs with flashing LED’s.

While I bought my brother The Ticking Bomb an alarm clock to wake him up and my dad Wonderwood a jar of jam with some unusual secret ingredients added to it, while my mum Battyeford Lill had to settle for the traditional rock.

Following this we drove the thirty miles or so to Portmadog which someone had told us had a “beautiful sandy beach” however the only place we found, or rather, should I say Picker Packer found was a load of quicksand where he nearly lost his shoe.