Where The Carneddau Meets The Sea
by Mike Abrahams
Penmaenmawr, with the now-stopped quarry clock; the place where once the jetties extended into the sea and where the ships came to take the stone.
The volcanic mountain where stone axes were produced in Neolithic times and then quarried for the unique granite employing over 1,000 men now reduced to 20.
The A55 where the long and wide promenade once stood. The beach huts and playground that once were, and Sambrook’s cafe that served us with ice cream and entertained us with its shooting gallery and juke box.
The well-to-do who came in the second half of the 19th century inspired by prime minister Gladstone, who chose Penmaenmawr as his retreat.
Dwygyfylchi, once home to two hill forts and now to the Dwygi Dashers.
The Carneddau mountains where the sheep and the wild ponies roam.
The granite that bounds these two villages with headlands jutting into the sea at either end of the coast and to the rear the Carneddau that defines this place.
This was where my mother found sanctuary from the bombs that rained down on Liverpool during the war. The family who gave her safety and love became like parents to her and grandparents to me..
