All(th)ebest Moments: July 1: Conwy, Wales to York, England

Erik and I met for a run at 6:30 am, leaving our kids snoozing in their rooms. We headed out on a trail away from the town, and found ourselves traversing the Great Orme, a giant rock outcropping that I had read about and planned to hike with the kids later that day. The trail wound around the big hill, looking out over the sea. It was a beautiful path in the bright sunny, fresh air, and we returned to the creaky, musty hotel determined to shower and get back out of there quickly. The kids got ready fast and ate a full English breakfast (minus the traditional black pudding, which sounded suspicious and upon looking it up I found it is a sausage made of pig's blood, fat, and oatmeal. I'm glad we trusted our instincts!). Erik dropped us off in the medieval town of Conwy, then headed back to work for the day. He's officially had his fill of "old stuff" and also needs to get work done.

Conwy Castle was built in 1283 by Edward I, "Longshanks" of Braveheart fame, when he conquered the Welsh. It is a gigantic fortress that still sends a clear message of English might; having seen many castles already we were floored by the size of this mammoth monument. Plus I had just read about Longshanks in my British History book the day before, so I was really excited to see it in person.

So we went inside to the gift shop so I could buy tickets, the kids roaming amongst the souvenirs. Stone had been hitching his shorts up to annoy his sisters (and me) again, and I remember saying "Stone, pull down your pants and untuck your shirt," then turning back to the cashier to see if it was cheaper to buy a family ticket than singles, blah blah blah. When we finally worked out the price I bought the tickets and left the gift shop to begin the castle tour, joining the three girls who had gotten bored in the shop and were waiting just outside the door at the entrance to the castle. We stood chatting for a few minutes, waiting for Stone to be done in the shop, then looked in and saw he wasn't in there. That's weird. I took a few steps up the path to the castle, thinking he had run ahead, but feeling that that would be uncharacteristic for him to stray so far at this age. He does still scamper ahead sometimes, but not far and not for long. I was a little annoyed but not worried.

I went back through the gift shop, quietly saying "Stone," not wanting to attract attention to myself, the crazy American who couldn't keep track of her kids. I went back out to the parking lot, wondering if he had gotten disoriented and gone out the wrong door, but no Stone. Then thought he might have gone to the bathroom, so I headed downstairs and waited outside the men's room. At this point my heart started beating fast and I remembered two posters I had seen as we went through customs in Holyhead, Wales: one, a help line for kidnapped/enslaved children to call, and two, an alert that said "Human Trafficking is Modern-Day Slavery," advising that children were being brought into Wales for trafficking. I tried to calm myself down, but when I discovered that he wasn't in the bathroom, and I went upstairs and checked the parking lot again, and then through the gift shop again, and then outside, I was starting to panic. I still didn't want to make a scene, but Lindsay had already walked far into the castle and hadn't found him, and I just knew he wouldn't have gone that far without us. I knew it was extremely unlikely that someone had taken him - the castle wasn't that crowded, so it would be a very strange time and place to target - I tried to stay calm but my head was swimming as I ran through all the places one last time, terror now pumping hard through my body. Barely controlling my voice, I approached the cashier who had helped me with the tickets and had laughed when I had told Stone to untuck his shirt. I said "have you seen my son? I haven't seen him since he was right over there when I bought my ticket." The look on the cashier's face confirmed my fear - it had been way too long for there to be any good explanation. Horrified, he looked at me blankly for a second before Lindsay called "MOM, I FOUND HIM!!!" He was sitting in the corner of the store, leaning on a shelf, hidden from view and out of earshot, reading a book, completely oblivious to our panic. I took him outside, and I have to be honest, the feeling I felt really surprised me. I had a huge urge to hit him. I was relieved, but the overwhelming feeling was fury that he had scared me so badly. If I had had less self-control I might have yelled at him terribly and if I had even less self control I might have given in to that really disturbing urge I had to punch or spank him as hard as I could. It was really disconcerting to feel violent like that, so I was grateful that as soon as I started talking to him my anger gave way to a much more appropriate emotion of relief, which came out not in yelling but in uncontrollable sobs. I tried to be quiet and I told him how scared I had been and that he needed to tell me where he was at all times. But he hadn't done anything wrong - he hadn't even left the room where I was - he had just gotten bored when the tickets were taking so long so he got out his book and plunked down where he was. He hadn't heard me, and I was looking for a boy of his standing height, not ever thinking he might be sitting down. The poor sweet boy cried his eyes out and kept saying "I'm so sorry Mom, I'm so sorry, I'll never do that again, I'm SO sorry." He had probably never seen me sob like that and it surprised him. He stuck by my side and kept holding my hand or rubbing my back for the rest of the day.

All that before 10:00 am! We made a fresh start and went through the castle together, somehow able to laugh and have fun after recovering from the trauma. After that, a visit to a preserved Elizabethan town home called Plas Mawr, then a lovely lunch in a darling French cafe where every single thing was amazing (goat cheese and onion tart, salad, creme brulee) and then a walk past Britain's tiniest house. The city of Conwy was charming and beautiful, and it was a wonderful, exhausting day.

Erik picked us up and took us back to the hotel to rest. Stone watched a movie on my computer and I fell asleep, still recovering from the morning's adrenaline. Roasting in the stuffy room, I woke up feeling claustrophobic and anxious, and suddenly I wondered if we could call an audible and get out of that town that night instead of having to sleep in that horrible hotel again and lose the next morning driving to York. Long story short, it worked out! Giddy with spontaneity, we hiked around the Great Orme for one last Welsh adventure, then packed up our suitcases, loaded the car, and bid farewell to the Death in Venice town. We stopped at a grocery store on the way out and headed off into the sunset, turning up the Beatles as we drove past Liverpool and then Flight of the Conchords as we watched three hours of cows go by. Arriving in the gorgeous, walled city, we gawked as our van pulled up to the hotel, right at the foot of the stunning York cathedral in the moonlight.

Conwy Castle

Exploring every nook and cranny

The view from one of the towers

Lucy and Stone pretending to be fire in the fireplace

View from a different tower, which shows how massive it is!!

The chapel where Edward I prayed, stained glass still intact

And an original gargoyle!

I have mixed feelings about letting Stone do stuff like this. On one hand, there are no signs saying not to. On the other hand, it MORTIFIES his sisters.

Lindsay interpreted this sign, "Caution: Please do not fall or get confused."

Plas Mawr, an original house from the 1580's. This was the kitchen

A toilet off of the master bedroom!

Attic for the servants

Very unique aesthetic - I told the kids I'm thinking of remodeling our mantel at home to include E and A, a rose, and awkward naked women with curly pigtails and legwarmers