Tu hwnt i’r bont. You might not be able to say it, but if you ask for directions to the best Welsh rarebit in town, you’ll be able to find your way. Welsh rarebit? Don’t worry, we’ll get there.
Meaning beyond the bridge, Tu hwnt i’r bont is quite possibly the most unique stop you’ll make while touring the North of Wales. Visiting for the umpteenth time on an ancestral tour of sorts, this was the first visit I’d made with the wee one in tow and after 7 hours on an airplane, a few days in Whitby and a short ride from Rhuddlan to Llanrwst, we arrived at my favourite little cottage just in time for tea. Nestled next to the Conwy River, the cottage is famous for the fact that it floods during the highest of tides. As you enter through the very small door on the way in, take a look at the measurements to see where the record currently stands.
Mzungu. The term was first used to describe someone who wanders around aimlessly, and thereafter became used to refer to white people in their attempts to colonize the African continent. Every morning, when I would go running with one of my fellow volunteers, we would hear Mzungu shouted through the streets. Running every morning was a great way to familiarize ourselves with the village. Often young people would run beside us laughing as we took to the paths in our sneakers and running gear, only to get showed up completely by some guy blowing past us in flip flops. The area around the village used to be inhabited by a diversity of wildlife including giraffe, antelope, lion etc. but nowadays the only animals seen by the villagers were the odd hyena, snake or smaller animal wandering the bush. Thankfully, the hyenas were nowhere to be seen during out visit or this story may have been told in the form of a memoir instead of part of an ongoing blog.
As we got to know the people we worked with and lived with in the village, we soon acquired kiswahili nicknames. This is how I became Twiga, kiswahili for giraffe. With a nickname like Twiga, I was a hit with all the kids in the village. Okay, in all fairness, it may have had more to do with the soccer ball I carried with me everywhere I went and less to do with the nickname I had acquired.
This is the continuation of a photo essay documenting my travels through India! Grab a cup of chai and join me on my journey… don’t forget to visit the Taj Mahal, the Golden Temple, Wagah, and Pushkar while you’re here!
We have now arrived in Varanasi; one of, if not the, most sacred place in all of India.