Well, I have arrived in Wales only to discover that Vernazza was a close second to Heavenly Wales. Craggy and verdunt and filled with the mystical allure one would expect from the land that bore Sean Connery and King Arthur, is Wales.
On the first afternoon, while my traveling companion, Jane, newly arrived from Seattle, slept off her jet lag, I explored the little town of Betws-y-Coed (yeah, I've been there for two days & still can't pronounce it). I stopped at the camping store...okay one of 10 camping stores within a one block radius and I saw postcards from the National Park we were in the middle of (Snowdonia). I started to pull some to send home and also so I could go back to Jane and say...let's go here...and here...and here. I also pulled out a card for my friend Amy which pictured a Celtic cross at sunset. It wasn't the best postcard, but I thought my wise-woman, mystical friend would like it. As I was getting ready to pay I decided the card wasn't really special enough for her, so I went back and put it in the rack.
That's when I saw, right below the Celtic crosses, a card of one of the most beautiful spots ever....I pulled the card....and this magical place was called The Fairy Glenn, and it was within walking distance of where we were staying. For those of you who know my email address...this will be especially significant. Oh, all right, for those of you who don't, its Morganna.queenofthefairies.
Anyway, that's when I knew I had come home. For that is what Wales feels like, the most mystical of homecomings.