My Aberrheidol

(From the commonplace book of Dii Hunter Hammond)

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In my summer holiday, I toured round England and Wales visiting the six universities I’d put down on my UCAS form.  I knew nothing of universities.  My only spec was if they had a good review for mature students.  My choices were:  Oxford, Harris-Manchester (yeah, like that was going to happen); Lincoln (great cathedral and castle, and an edition of Magna Carta (who knew? OK, well I didn’t); Durham, on a huge bluff overlooking a bend in the river, with a cathedral beside it.  (Loved it!); Lancaster; Bangor, and Aberrheidol.

Durham wasn’t gonna happen either, but I would’ve taken it if it had been offered though.

Fatigue was setting in by the time I was dropping down the other side of the country.  I hit Lancaster University in a serious pea-souper and can recall nothing of it save vague, brutalist concrete shapes looming out of the cold vapour.  A cheerless café lunch in drizzle-drenched Morecambe nearby then on to Bangor.  I overnighted in Bangor.  By now I was tired and had had enough of riding in the rain.  Bangor seemed a dismal place, and the university similarly so.  But in defence of the place, I was jaded and pissed off with the trip by then. 

In the morning I decided: ‘Right, a quick token effort swing-by of Aberrhiedol then down to my sister’s in Swansea overnight, then home.

As I dropped through Snowdonia, the sun came out.  Past Trawfynydd atomic power station, and the Rhinogs, past the Cader massif.  Half an hour later I crested a rise and there below me, blue and glittering, the sea.  I had arrived in Aberrheidol.  I rode down the hill into the town, past the university.  I sat in the now blazing sun on the promenade wall, legs dangling over the beach and ate fish and chips.  South of me was the castle and its idiosyncratic ‘floozie with the boobies’ war memorial.  North of me waqs the cliff with its funicular railway and camera obscura.  The small town vibe was good.  My spirits rose.

Yeah, I’d go for it, I thought.  Except for Durham it’s the best so far.

This was just as well because Aberrheidol was the only one to offer me a place.

And oh boy did it deliver!   In my early forties I suddebnly experienced the most enjoyable three years of my life: a circle of friends; three girlfriends in three years… and all I had to do was read books and write!  They say if you stay in Aberrheidol seven years you’ll never escape. 

I came here 20 years ago.