Snowdon Cottage


A beautifully restored, detached self-catering holiday cottage, Tan Y Fron sits high in a small North Wales village (map here) with spectacular views of Snowdon. Cottage sleeps 7-8.

Prices from £355/week.

Contact: toby.manning@blueyonder.co.uk for Winter deals. Availability calendar here.

More info for Snowdon cottage here

Cottage graded 4-star by Welsh Tourist Board.

Book Snowdon cottage here

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Posts

December 02, 01:45 PM
Red Autumn


Most of us in Britain are unsure when Autumn ends and winter begins. Not least this year, when the last cold winter has bumped back the whole seasonal cycle, meaning the Autumn leaves hung around until,...well, they’re still doing a pretty good job of hanging in there as I write. Which is something, surely? Temperature-wise however, you might feel that rather than holding off Winter, that Autumn rather rolled over and died some weeks ago. The snow here in, ah, Snowdonia, is down to the valleys. As XTC once asked, "who's pushing the pedals on the Season Cycle?"

The fact is that officially, astronomically, autumn in the UK begins with the September equinox (September 23 this year) and ends with the December solstice (December 21). So it’s still Autumn for a while yet. As such, Keats’ Ode To Autumn – the classic text everyone wheels out on these occasions – can make for strange reading. Did they have a totally different climate in 1819, when he wrote this and his other odes (he'd die a year later)? Because his description of Autumn sounds more like the best we can expect from a summer two centuries on. “Season of mists,” well, yes, check, indeed let’s add “freezing fog”: but “mellow fruitfulness”? “Edgy barrenness” more like. 

But, look around you and that’s not quite the case. Especially here in Snowdonia.

For years I thought November was bare. If it was a colour, it was grey. But in recent years I’ve noticed that November’s true colour is red. And this year, December looks like it’ll have a crimson tinge too. Oh, I don’t mean the shrivelled blackberries on the brambles, surreal as mayflowers in February. And yes, I know we’ve missed the rowans. But there are fuchsias blooming all down the hillside from my cottage. There are fruiting Pyracanthas in people's gardens. There are cotoneasters (the first pic at the top) growing wild in the quarries and on the hillside. There's this stuff that I don't even know the name of. Berberis?

There are rosehips, past their prime for jelly (I made some last year, which was possibly the sweetest thing I've ever tasted; this year I missed the boat) but still a startling crimson.
These hips were shot early morning just down the road from my cottage: Tan Y Fron is an arty blur behind the berries. 

On top of that there’s holly on the boughs. Forecasting a harsh winter, apparently. To which it's tempting to say, simply, "no kidding? We hadn't noticed. Erasmus eat your heart out."

And there’s hawthorn berries, lots of hawthorn berries. Tan Y Fron is positively hemmed in by blazing russet hawthorns. 


The old word for hawthorn berries, “haws”, doesn’t get used much now, for obvious reasons. The berries themselves don’t get used much either, many people erroneously assuming that both they and rowans are poisonous. My partner has a fantastic cookery book, Farmehouse Fare, which collects farmer’s wives recipes from the 1930s. When I looked up “haws” in it, there was a recipe for haw sauce. But they clearly thought that its use was so obvious that they didn’t bother to say what to serve it with. I made some anyway. It’s weird, but it’s delicious. But no, I still haven’t quite decided what to serve it with.  

The point is though, Autumn in Britain gets a bad press. OK, so your energy supplier has "reassessed" your direct debit payment to match the temperature. Granted, it's a bad time for a garden party, outdoor wedding or for trying and paint the outside of your house (the only one of those three I've tried so far this Autumn). But with one of the most stunning array of turning leaves to be seen in decades, and a rich crop of red berries and flowers everywhere you turn, Autumn's also just a beautiful time of year. Especially in Snowdonia.


Feel like seeing for yourself? Visit my cottage website.


November 24, 01:54 PM
About The Weather


PART 1: WEATHERED 

While growing up in Snowdonia in the 1970s, I couldn’t understand the fuss my parents made about the weather. Listening in religious silence to the forecast on what they still called the Home Service (it’d been Radio 4 since 1967). Making a carefully telegraphed exception to the “no telly before 4 pm” rule to check the Weather News (nice Michael Fish shifting clouds and suns manually).
   When the weather forecast didn't give satisfaction, they were forever scurrying off outside to study cloud patterns, reminding me of Rod Hull and Emu up on the roof of Broadcasting House in souwesters, delivering the weather forecast."Weather, weather, all together, what's it gonna do? We don't know, so let's ask Weatherman Emu!"
    Really, these parents seemed ruled by the weather, to be vassals and slaves of the elements, pincered by rain and snow on one hand and sunshine on the other (“the grass is getting out of control. But of course, I didn’t have to cut the grass, paint the external woodwork, or bed the new garden steps in concrete. Nor did I share my parents’ passion for mountain walking.
   The worst that the weather could do to me was to stop me from sitting in my tree house, or roaming through the earthquake fissures in the granite slabs above my house. Back to my bedroom with the Chronicles of Narnia. The best it could do was to get me out of going up another stupid mountain in my hated orange waterproof. Because, whatever the weather forecast said, it would rain.
   All these adult responsibilities were lurking, of course, ready to darken my teens with a small taste of boringness to come. Except that I thought when I was grown up I’d let the grass grow rampant, let the paintwork blister and be damned. So in my teens I was glad if rain stopped grass-cutting or snow scuppered woodwork painting. Back to David Bowie and John Le Carre in my bedroom. And naturally, by then I was refusing point-blank to go up a mountain. Least of all with my parents. 
   Well, we all turn into our parents eventually. Particularly if we’re trying not to. You focus on one parent not to emulate, leaving your flank exposed: because, after all, everyone only really has one of two role models to choose from. 
   So for a start, I’ve done what so many people do and gone back to where I grew up. Snowdonia in my case. To a village, Fachwen, that’s just across the valley from where I grew up. Nostalgia buffed and polished. Like my parents, I bought a rundown old farmer’s cottage (Snowdon Cottage) and renovated it.

And it's now available as a self-catering holiday cottage (Snowdon Cottage Website) and looks like this: 


OK, so just to complete  those parallels, as a result of renovating my cottage, I’ve now become  as obsessed with the weather as my parents were. You don’t want to be tottering around on a roof when there’s a gale blowing – not unless you want to end up like Rod Hull (Rod Hull's demise). 
   It’s demoralising to see the masonry paint you’ve just laboriously painted on being washed off by sudden rain, leaving a milky white film over your beautiful slate patio.
   Or worst of all, to start off laying said patio on a stunning, crisp Autumn day, but then find yourself a) rained on, b) hailed on and c) snowed on in the course of a working day. In fact I’m still waiting for a decent run of good weather to finish the patio off.
   Then there’s the grass. Nowadays I find myself fretting it’ll rain on the one day I’ve available between lets at Tan Y Fron. If it rains the night before, will the next day be dry enough to mean I can still cut the grass without churning it into mulch and scorch-marks.
   And predictably, as an adult I love mountain walking. And while I don’t even mind going up in the rain that much thanks to the power of decent waterproofs (http://www.joe-brown.com/), the people I’m walking with often do mind. Especially children. And besides a fine day will still make the difference between a scurry and a walk, a conflict with the mountain and a communion.
   So nowadays, the first thing I do when I wake up is check the local weather forecast on the internet. But which forecast?

PART 2: FORECASTS

The BBC just doesn’t get close enough. It offers Betws-Y-Coed, but really that’s in the foothills of Snowdonia. In the highlands of Snowdonia, where Tan Y Fron is located, we’ve got microclimates that mean there’s a distinct difference in weather between my village of Fachwen and even nearby villages like Llanberis or Deiniolen. Let alone Caernarfon, which is the other option. Seven miles away. I can see Caernarfon from Tan Y Fron and it tends to be annoyingly brighter over there. Weather envy, huh? But it’s way more beautiful up in Fachwen. And, being high up, when the sun does come our way, it sticks around for much longer. 
   An alternative to the BBC is Netweather, which does a 7-day forecast, supposedly focused on next village, Dinorwig. It also has the added advantage of... Michael Fish (oh yes, a circular blog theme) out of retirement and apparently doing long-term forecasts in his bedroom. It's kind of sweet but also slightly surreal, like seeing your dad pretending to be Michael Fish on the webcam he doesn't quite understand how to use yet.

   The Met Office (above) is actually the place all our weather information comes from, so why not go straight to the source? Except the Met Office’s site confused me for some time (not least why we don’t pronounce it “Meat Office” as in “meteorological” and yes, I had to check the spelling of that).  Initially, it seemed the only options were, again Betws-Y-Coed - or  Porthmadog  - miles away out on the Lleyn Peninsula, a coastal climate that bears little relationship to ours.
   But I kept fiddling and found a completely different menu which for some reason had Capel Curig – much nearer to Fachwen – on it. I finally figured out that this is the “latest weather” section of the Met site: it tells you what the weather has been doing up until now. I have to admit I’m confused about a) why this information comes from different locations to the forecast and b) what use it is exactly.   
   Then I discovered (doh!) that there’s a separate Mountain Area Forecasts section on the Met site and you can choose "Snowdonia". Still, I’m intrigued by how this works: a little research suggests the nearest actual weather station is RAF Valley – on Anglesey, which has a notably balmier climate.  
   Also, a friend who's a member of the local Mountain Rescue team recently tipped me to XCWeather, where you can home in on Dinorwig (next village to Fachwen). I’m slightly suspicious about where exactly its weather stations are – or its satellites are homing in on? – but there do at least seem to be some differences between Betws-Y-Coed and Fachwen.
   I don’t pretend to have all the answers: I’d like this Weather section of my blog to be an ongoing project (like my slate patio). So tips, thoughts, disagreements and discussion are all actively welcomed.
Of course, my younger self would be appalled. It’s bad enough to be checking forecasts and fretting about rain on uncut grass. But now here I am actively encouraging people to talk to me about the weather. 

Visit my cottage website.
November 24, 01:35 PM
The Power of Snowdon

When I've got people visiting me in Snowdonia, they usually want to do a bit of walking. And they usually ask what walk I'd recommend. In a slight spirit of mischief I often suggest Elidir Fawr - it's a 3000-er, it's right outside the cottage, so you don't even need a car, nor indeed are you in for one of those Scottish experiences of a day's route-march to get to the foot of the peak: you can just close the door and start walking. Up. Steeply.

That said, the path up Elidir is far from obvious, there's frequently a Force 9 gale blowing and the mountain often seems to possess its own personal black cloud. Even on sunny days. But if that black cloud does clear and you can stand up on the top without blowing over, the views are quite something else. Anglesey is laid out flat before you; beaches frilling out like a jellyfish's nerve net. Also in the palm of your hand, on a very good day, is Ireland. Meanwhile, you're up there with the Carneddau (more 3000-ers) and you're looking across at Snowdon as an equal.

Except not quite. Because if Elidir does fall slightly short in terms of height compared to Snowdon (there's 500 feet difference), it falls off the map in terms of name-recognition. Telling the folks back home "oh yes, we went up Elidir Fawr" doesn't have quite the impact of saying "we climbed Snowdon". So, quelle surprise, that's what people want to do when they come here: go up Snowdon. And in order to do so, they'll endure the queues (I was once persuaded to make the ascent on an August Bank Holiday with two friends whose city lives have obviously persuaded them that crowds are normal wherever you go). They'll suffer conditions that can be quite as horrible as Elidir Fawr (it's worth trotting out that health warning about the quantities of people who die annually on Snowdon).

Plus there's that essential achievement-underminer - the fact that 75% of the people at the summit got there on a train. A cute, old fashioned choo-choo train, but a train nevertheless.
But again, it's hard to argue with the power of Snowdon. Snowdon's not just famous because it's got a railway on it. Or because it's higher than anything in England (or Wales, naturally: we conveniently leave Scotland out of this one). No, there really is something special about Snowdon. For a start there's the fact it's a perfect, mountain-shaped mountain, the kind of thing they'd use in Lord of The Rings (and which is framed perfectly by the dining room window at Tan Y Fron, by the way).

But it's a totally satisfying walk whichever way you tackle it. As a young man, I always plumped for the exciting (read: scary) route: via Crib Goch (it means Red Comb and yes, it's shaped like one) and Crib Y Ddysgl. Sheer drops on either side of you and a couple of moments where you have to lunge out over said drop to get round a corner aren't everyone's flask of tea. On a wet day, I choose the gentle relentlessness of the Llanberis path. For sheer neatness, and attractively-put-together-ness I'd go for the Rhyd Ddu path. For speed: the PYG track every time. If you're not bothered about getting to the top, the Miner's Track is the one. Oh and I'm saving up the Watkin path. I last went up that 30 years ago, which isn't a vote of any kind, it's just that I too get caught up in the lure of familiarity.

But there's also something else about Snowdon, something harder to put into words - though plenty of people have tried. I was stultified with embarrassment when a friend announced in a no-frills climber's caff (Pete's Eats in Llanberis) that she'd been inspired to create a haiku by being on the summit of Snowdon. Then proceeded to deliver said haiku to the entire cafe. But she's not alone: Wordsworth got there first, poetically speaking. Not many people are aware that the climax of The Prelude is set on Snowdon's summit: perhaps because few people have ever got past the first few pages. The Romantics all get read about more than they get read these days, but Wordsworth gets read the least (hmm, maybe a tie with Byron actually). It's worth reading that bit of The Prelude though (http://www.lcc.gatech.edu/~broglio/1102/snowdon.html). People outside of cults don't talk much about transcendence these days, but the right day on Snowdon can make you want to do just that. Quietly. To yourself.
September 10, 01:19 PM
Visitor Comments

The cottage was fantastic, easily the best cottage I've ever stayed in.
Harms family, Harrogate, August 2010

Had a wonderful time. Highlight of the holiday climbing Snowdon at 6.30 a.m. with no one else on the path. Our boys love the house so much they would like to live here.
Reed family, Cardiff, August 2010

Lovely, clean and comfortable cottage from which to explore the locality.
Barbara, Roger. Derek, Noah & Connie. July 2010

We had a wonderful holiday in your fabulous Welsh cottage. The views are amazing. My wife and daughter particularly liked the regular visits by the sheep and the cattle.
Woodhort family plus Marney family, July 2010

We had a lovely weekend, lovely cottage, wonderful views. The Welshcakes and milk were a very nice touch. See you again.
Nina and David Webb, Oxfordshire, June 2010

Beautiful cottage and views – we certainly saw all the moods of Snowdon this week!
Alison, Kevin and dogs, May 20-10

Lovely weather all week! We went to the beach almost every day and even saw dolphins from the shore today. Fabulous! All of us enjoyed the views from your cottage. I don’t think any of us have stayed anywhere quite like it.
Amy, Charles, Joseph, Val, Ian and Jo
May/June 2010

Thank you for a wonderful holiday in your beautiful cottage. We were very comfortable and warm especially using the lovely woodburner on the days when we had 5 inches of snow! We love the way the cottage has been so tastefully modernised whilst retaining the feel of the old building. Have enjoyed many local walks with our dogs and visits further afield but always returned to the best view by far from here at Tan Y Fron. We all look forward to coming again.
Sue, Sarah, Scott, Phil, Joan, Gill and dogs, April 2010

Had a lovely stay once again. The views are just gorgeous and the house very cosy and comfortable. I started to feel at home on the day we arrived – so that must mean your cottage is also very welcoming. Thank you. Elsie, February 2010

A memorable week! We’ve been warm and cosy. The house was very welcoming – thank you for the Christmas tree.
Bob, Maggie and Matt, Dec/Jan 2009/2010

A perfect winter wonderland! A cosy retreat amongst a stunning landscape. Thank you very much
Kate and David Miller, Birmingham, November 2009

What a week – the weather has been fabulous. We really used it to our advantage! Cycling, walking and visiting castles. Our final challenge was to attempt Snowdon. We took the Llanberis path - boy was it tough!
Lovely cottage, comfy sofas and the dining room provided a home from home.
Ian Tanner & Nicky, Neil, Katie and Oliver Price. October 2009

The well-appointed and beautiful location of the cottage provided the perfect setting for several restful and stress-free days in the mountains. Even the weather was good to us. A most enjoyable stay.
Rod and Karen, Cambridge, Tim, Cheltenham, Sept 2009

What an amazing week we’ve had. Cottage is beautiful with breathtaking views.
North Wales has impressed us that much we are seriously considering moving to this area. There is so much to do – the Snowdon mountain railway was amazing and slate caverns in Blaenau Festiniog were very interesting. Thanks for helping us make this a very special holiday.
Cari and Chris, South Wales, September 2009

This is a wonderful cottage, beautifully appointed and we found everything we needed.
The views are absolutely stunning and against all odds the weather was just as good.
There are beautiful walks in the immediate vicinity. If it rains a visit to the Electric Mountain in Llanberis is good fun. Jana and Dave, Cambridge, Sept 2009

Lovely to stay here again - so peaceful and glorious views. Marvellous weather so Snowdon and Tryfan were spectacular.
Pat and Bill Hill

Thank you for this peaceful, luxurious holiday. The house is well laid out to enable people to be together but separate – reading in the dining room, telly on next door – and the bedrooms are lovely for a quiet read/contemplation.

We enjoyed the cottage and did lots of walks from here into the woods. All our children enjoyed the various castles, Beaumaris was probably our favourite. Beaches – I think the best was Hells Mouth on the Lleyn peninsula, but found a few on Anglesey too.
The Potters, Guildford, August 2009

We enjoyed a lovely week in the hthis cottage. It has wonderful views and is very comfortable We travelled to Llanberis, where we hired rowing boats; Caernarfon, where we visited the castle, Bangor Pier, where the scones were very much appreciated and Anglesey, where the Sea Zoo was very enjoyable. This cottage provided a great place to explore all these places. We particularly enjoyed making friends with the cows just outside. Thanks for a great week. The Kings Family. August 2009

A great stay at a lovely cottage, waking up to cows outside the windows at breakfast and a real fire to settle around in the evenings Some fo the best views of the Snowdon summit from the cottage. Huw, June 2009

Thank you for a beautiful stay in the quiet and calm. Snowdon by day, The Wire by night. Great recipe for a relaxing but captivating holiday.
Robert, James, Kate and Christine Wannop, Congleton, June 2009

September 10, 01:06 PM
Details, Tan Y Fron
Sleeping 7-8, Tan Y Fron is a beautifully restored, detached cottage in an elevated position above Llyn Padarn, in a small village with spectacular views of Snowdon.

This is a few miles from Llanberis, 7 miles east of Caernarfon; an excellent base for touring Snowdonia National Park with walking and cycling from the door. Four bedrooms (narrow stairs): king-size, a single leading to a room with king-size + single beds, and a ground floor 4' double. Downstairs bath/shower room & second WC, fitted kitchen, lounge with solid fuel burner and a dining room with superb views and door to the garden. Slate and solid oak floors. W/machine, slim d/washer, f/freezer, TV, DVD, hi-fi, gas c/heating. Mature hillside garden with small slate patio and stream (young children to be supervised); secure bike storage. No smoking inside. Towels provided.
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