Farynshire: County of Many Lands

We could have gone straight to Tor Calon, our final destination on the coast, from Boggy Ditch. But I wanted to see Glawdolydd.

Farynshire does not have many castles – there are a few in the mountains, and I suppose the Meyrick’s White Palace could be considered a castle. Glawdolydd is a proper castle, built in the thirteenth century (about the same time as the foundations were begun for Rookpot Cathedral) when it was known as Kel Afon Castle.

These days it is called Glawdolydd, and it is another unique community, which Farynshire seems to have quite a few of!

The Kel Afon River (named river thrice: Kel in Musril, Afon in Welsh, and River in English) is at its widest in this valley. We arrived in the height of summer, and the river was like a flat still lake, barely contained within its shallow banks. We trudged across squelchy meadows to get to the steep hill Glawdolydd sits upon, casting long shadows over the surrounding countryside. It is said that Kel Afon bursts its banks every time it rains, and from late autumn through to late spring, the whole valley is flooded. And the flooding is what led to the unique community of Glawdolydd.

Hundreds of years ago there were villages scattered across the fertile floodplains, and you can see the remnants of them; we wandered through a few grass covered lumpen ruins that were all that were left of houses or other buildings. I wonder how long they suffered the frequent flooding, kept rebuilding their homes and lives, before they had finally had enough and realised they had to abandoned it all. One by one the villages were abandoned, as the villagers moved to the one place that never flooded: the castle on the hill.

A drawbridge leads to the ever-open castle gates. In centuries past the drawbridge could be raised to slam closed over the gates. Now the drawbridge is overgrown with weeds and moss, and the gates are so encrusted with rust and mould that I think they would crumble if anyone tried to close them!

You walk straight into the village square, once the central castle courtyard, the bustling heart of the castle. The daily market has stalls built into the castle walls, and villagers and visitors buy pretty much whatever they want or need here. I really love the small post office that handles all incoming and outgoing mail – and even employs flock of carrier pigeons during the months of flooding!

It is really easy to get lost in Glawdolydd! Cobbled streets weave between the high walls, and well-swept wooden steps lead up to the walkways that encircle the ramparts. We got stuck in quite a loop on the ramparts for nearly an hour, wondering if we would ever get down. We did get amazing views over the castle grounds: the lines of the residents’ allotments, the Stewards’ gardens, the water wheel in the Wellhouse, all the red-tiled rooves. Once we finally did find a way back down, we found the small tea shop overlooking the plum and apple orchard and had a refreshing cider and a selection of cream-filled puffcakes.

The prolonged wandering did give us an appreciation of just how well-preserved this place is. It is a modern village, but the olde worlde aesthetics have been strictly maintained. The residents live in terraced houses converted from castle rooms, opulent penthouses in the turrets (with magnificent views over the countryside), apartments atop the gatehouses and in cottages converted from chapels and outhouses. A bit of real estate advice: it is nearly impossible to buy a property here – the last property to be sold on the open market was in 1976. This community is very tight, and you have to be selected to live here. That sounds elitist (and it is), but I suppose the Village Council and Castle Keepers want to ensure that newbies commit to community workdays and all the chores they must have to do to maintain the castle’s unique beauty.

There are a few exclusive guesthouses, but we could not afford to stay in them, so we left Glawdolydd in the late afternoon with a few puffcakes to keep us going on our journey.

Glawdolydd is an odd place. Very welcoming to tourists, with its uncloseable gates and gift shops, but also and at the same time very insular and protective of its unique community. I like it; but I don’t think I would like to live there.

By Mabel Govitt