During the summer holidays my family and I went back to Wales, Llandudno to be precise. The eagerly-awaited holidays bring a respite from homework, lessons, extracurricular activities and exams. For me, spending a holiday at home is equally unbearable.
On the last day of school, I impatiently waited for the bell to ring at 2 p.m. When the bell rang,I felt like a caged bird that had just been set free. I threw my bag over my shoulder and made a hasty escape, waving goodbye to friends and pulling tongues at that miserable concrete hellhole!
We started our journey early in the morning, endless traffic like lines of worker ants, following each other slowly, very slowly. Luckily my Ipod was fully charged and I didn’t have to listen to Mum and Dad’s awful taste in music.
When we arrived, we had a quick lunch. I couldn’t wait and headed for my favourite spot here, a secluded corner of my grandfathers’ garden. There under a shady spot, I sat down and surveyed the surroundings. Here, far away from claustrophobic classrooms, rushing crowds, busy streets and crowded shops, I enjoyed the solitude of nature. As I took my seat on a flimsy wooden bench and looked around me, I could see a flurry of activity: birds flew gracefully and noiselessly above me while bees travelled elegantly from plant to plant; colourful butterflies flew about here and there, flapping their fragile wings and ants scurried in a single file carrying bits of food on their tiny backs, just like the traffic getting here.
Lying on my back with my hands clasped behind my head and watched streaks of sunlight filtering through the canopy of leaves. A soft cool breeze blew. I could hear the soft rustle of leaves. The air is heavy with the scent of shrubs and grasses coupled with the scent of ripe strawberries. Soon I fell into short but deep slumber. When I woke up, I could see the sun slowly descending behind a row of far hills. Although I would love to linger for a little longer, I moved away reluctantly and left knowing that the family would be waiting for me.
The following day, the family were all going on an outing to the Great Orme. My grandfather told me that the name 'Orme' is derived from an old Norse word for Worm or Sea Serpent and on a misty day it is easy to see why as the cable car provides a magnificent view of the snaking shape of the limestone. One thing about the Orme though, we have to be sure to wear our wellies, how sheep can actually produce that much muck is a mystery.
One of the most interesting things about the Orme is the history, they have an Ancient burial mound and the remains of huts said to date back to the Bronze age. How anyone can have lived up here, the wind wails and groans and makes it feel bitterly cold, even on a nice summer day.
A visit to Great Orme Mines is both an enjoyable and educational experience which can be enjoyed by children and adults of all ages. Walking through tunnels mined out over 3,500 years ago gives visitors a feel for the harsh conditions our prehistoric ancestors faced in their search for copper. The highlight of the tour is the amazing Bronze Age Cavern, dug out over 3,500 years ago by miners using nothing more than stone and bone tools.
There would be more fun in Wales, castles, ice cream, seaside fun and family stories, I love hearing about Dad when he was my age, he sounded much more of a handful than they say I am! But my visits to the Great Orme are always my favourite and something I hope to do again, maybe one day I will be bringing my own children but that’s a long way off.