Come September, it will be 8 years since I left home and moved to Cardiff. I suppose, for lots of people, when you’ve grown up in a small town, there is a tendency to feel as though so much of our personality is defined by how we adapt to life in bigger, busier places. We start to see ourselves as an evolution of who we once were. And there’s no wonder, especially if we’ve spent years trying to figure out how to make life go faster. Then, once we’re on the ride, all we’re doing is trying to hold on.
But, honestly, I think the only part of me that’s really changed is my threshold for inconvenience. I now know that I am truly spoiled by choice and my patience is ruined. I didn’t expect to find myself getting irrationally angry at shops and cafes closing at 5pm. That being said, in December, I discovered that Colwyn Bay now has Uber. Yes, that’s right, my parents can now order a takeaway or a taxi from an app. Though I’d certainly be surprised if they ever did.
Something I was always grateful for, living in North Wales, was that the town I grew up was relatively well served by public transport. Even if I am constantly shocked by how much more expensive a day ticket is. So, on my birthday, Rob and I got the train to Bangor. A city with a high street that gets more than it’s fair share of criticism. Though, if you’ve grown up in the area and watched shops slowly disappear from the city centre, only to relocate on retail parks on the outskirts of Caernarfon Road, it would be impossible not to feel as though the life is being slowly drained away from the town.
What I think punches above it’s weight, is Bangor’s independent retailers, keeping the city alive. Whenever I go home, I’m always itching to hop on the number 5 bus, or catch to train to go digging around Mudshark. The very shop where I bought my first ever record (Bjork’s Homogenic, if you must know), and continue to find just about anything I might be looking for. Spiritually, it reminds me of visiting Cob Records, just down the other end of the high street, when I was a child. An event so exciting that it had my parents and two brothers, all crammed into my Dad’s car with fresh batteries in our Walkmans.
Cob lives on in Porthmadog, but for a long time, the Bangor location was up there with Kavern Records in Llandudno as the one of the most reliable and well-stocked music retailers in North Wales. Mudshark is really all about the vinyl revival though. And their emphasis on speciality and local artists makes it all the more exciting. I’ve been going there since I was doing my A-Levels, back when they were crammed into their old spot, opposite the New Look (also still kicking), and I’m glad to see them still thriving.
What I wasn’t prepared for, was how easy it was to find somewhere that serves vegan food. Domu, previously an Irish pub, making their green facade seem doubly appropriate, was a real revelation. The cafe is run by husband and wife Dale (a founding member of The Smiths) and Svet (Classical musician and music teacher). Both take on the roles of Chef and front of house, and I must say, were exceptionally lovely on the Tuesday afternoon we visited. I had a pumpkin stew with rice, Rob had the chilli. Neither disappointed. With only a week and half of 2022 left, we were both in agreement as we left that this was easily our top meal of the year.
Even the oat lattes and chocolate tart we had to top it off were faultless. And the place was packed. We managed to grab the last available table and straight away Svet was over to explain that they still had ‘plenty of everything.’ Everything, as it happens, is made in batches in the morning and sold until it’s gone. All in the spirit of an Eastern European roadside cafe. So, I was glad we got there just after midday for an early lunch. I couldn’t quite believe the amount of cakes and pastries (savoury and sweet) that were on offer. Note: if you visit, the chocolate tart was somehow both the richest, and lightest thing I’ve ever eaten.
Eventually, we made our way onto the pier. Bangor Pier is one of my all time favourite places. A colleague of mine who studied in Bangor told me that she recently visited with her husband, all with the purpose of having a scone at the Pier Pavilion. A cafe that serves just about anything you could imagine (salads, baguettes, toasties, soup, cakes – all with vegan options). We had another two coffees, along with a slice of lemon cake to share (it was my birthday, after all).
Garth Pier juts out over the Menai Straits, and on a windy day, anything that isn’t bolted down has a good chance of being lost forever. But the little huts at the end are the perfect spot to catch your breath, tighten your scarf, and mentally prepare yourself for the return walk. While Llandudno ‘s Victorian Pier might be filled to capacity with things to do on a day out (arcades, fairground rides, tat shops galore and more chippies than a seagull could ever dream of), Garth Pier is more understated. It’s somewhere to stop for a coffee and unwind. And all for a suggested donation of 50p.
It took us a few attempts to work the card reader. In the end, the attendant suggested we try again on our way out, or if all else fails ‘just pay next time’. In the end, it thankfully went through. Saving me the guilt of having to leave the friendliest volunteer I’d ever met empty-handed. As Pier of the Year 2022, it was more than worth the £1 entry for both of us. And following a successful trial after the 2017 restoration, even dogs are welcome now.
Sure, everything might close on a Sunday. And yes, shops close earlier than I’m now accustomed to. But every visit reminds me of how inconsequential endless choice is when everything that is on offer is so beautiful. It’s not hard to find yourself imagining what life would be like popping out for a scone and a coffee on Saturday mornings. Or with all that endless space to walk the dog. I left for the train full, and with that ever present ache until we next return.
Tim Wynne 