The old road...

I’m sure that I’m mad, stopping the car on a very busy A499 to take this picture, risking my life for an old worn stone.

Worth it? I think so, after all it isn’t every day that you see an eighteenth century milestone, 300ish years old and declaring the distance to both Carnarvon and then on to Pwllheli. An English invader milestone, Caernarfon spelt without the ‘e’ and with an ‘f’ instead of a ‘v’, the Welsh way, Welsh being an illegal language back then and a Welshman not allowed to marry an English woman.

This is the new road; clawed out of the rock and soil a couple of years back, they even built a hill to divert it around Clynnog Fawr. The old road used to meander its way through the village preceded by huge trees and solid stone walls flashing past only inches away from the car. On dark wet nights I used to dread meeting a milk tanker or ‘Matey 2’, a huge old friendly artic, on the very narrow stretches – and sometimes rocks would seemingly leap out from the walls and hurl there way towards you.

Not now though, the new, straight, wide, landscaped road is a joy to drive.

I never saw the milestone on the old road; it must have been hidden in the weeds. That was the thing with the old road, you knew that the magic was there, but sometimes you couldn’t see it. I wonder how many times I passed the milestone not knowing it existed, not knowing how far it was to Carnarvon and then on to Pwllheli – a thousand times, more?

It seems that stones are like that, remarkably easy not to notice.

I’m pleased that they found and moved it, made it visible – there’s little point in a milestone if you can’t see it and some would have simply yanked it out and made it rubble. Not that the old thing is of much use, the wind and rain have taken their toll on the carving and you can’t see the ‘miles to go’ at all. All those years standing invisible on the old road and now, visible at last, unable to answer the question it was placed for.

I know how you feel old milestone, I know how you feel.

I miss the old road with its wet and windy nights, articulated lorries, kamikaze rocks - all of us younger and wanting to get there.

At least on the old road I knew where I was going to.