We spent another day today dodging rain and coming down through the last nine locks on the Llangollen canal. We are now back on the main branch of the Shropshire Union canal, just north of Nantwich, where we were eight days ago. However, we are back in the land of decent mobile Internet, so I can upload more of the photos from Llangollen. First some of the highlights of the town itself, then more from the Eisteddfod.

Welsh is normally a fairly well behaved language, but occasionally they will throw together a compound word of inordinate length, just to piss off the German tourists.

Ysiopfachgardiauwrthybontdrosyrafonddyfrdwyynllangollen means, “The little card shop by the bridge over the River Dee in Llangollen.” You will notice that the Welsh for the River Dee is Afon Ddyfrdwy. I can only presume that some English map maker said, “Oh sh*t! Nobody can pronounce that. Let’s just call it the River D.”

What mountain village is complete without a taxidermist, stuffed with dead birds?

I love that turret. Speaking of turrets, there was a mock castle up by the very narrowest bit of the canal.

Yes, we had to wrangle a fifty by seven foot canal boat along that little ditch, and back again.

The scenic River D (pronounced Thifr-doo-ee) runs through town with the restored steam railway on one side and the recycled mill on the other.

The recycled mill still has a working water wheel, though I don’t think it drives anything. The building is now a pub and restaurant. Peter and Sherri took us out to dinner there on our last night in town – thanks guys!

There’s a used bookstore.

It’s upstairs from a coffee shop, and you pay at the counter on your way out. This is just part of the maze, there is another section on the other side of the stairs. It has a toilet, all it needs is a comfy chair and I could move in there. Unfortunately due to luggage restrictions I can’t buy many books while I am here, but I still like just being around so many.

Here’s more stuff from the Eistoddfod. This was a Welsh folk group.

Sorry, I’ve forgotten their name. Their songs were mostly about separated lovers, farmers being punished for tax avoidance, mining disasters, and being bitten by midges. In other words, everyday life in Wales.

This was a choir from Aukland, New Zealand.

They did a nice Beatles medley. I guess the sixties have just about reached New Zealand by now, at least in the cities. Most of the countryside is still struggling with the transition to the Fourth Age.

This is a Russian group, called something like From Folk Tales To Jazz. That probably sounds a lot better in Russian.

They sounded great by the way, in spite of the stupid name.

I really should have written these up the same day, so maybe I could remember which country did the umbrella dance. Do you remember, Paula?

Bloody good idea to bring umbrellas to Wales, anyway.

Another country I’ve forgotten, but these dancers performed their dance almost entirely on their knees, swaying, and gesticulating with ping pong paddles fans

Friday afternoon, all the performers in the festival joined a parade in their national dress. Since the parade was going out the only exit from the Eisteddfod grounds, and I wanted to exit, I ended up in the middle of the parade behind a raucous French jazz band, and ahead of these ladies.

For more on Llangollen, see Sherri’s blog.