Little zip to Barm-a-roony
Fouzi’s Fuel-Up
No road trip starts without a proper breakfast, and for us, that means Fouzi’s. Caroline with her tea already in hand while I’m still deciding between the veggie or full Welsh. PC, as always, knows exactly what he wants. There’s something comforting about starting the day in a familiar spot, especially when the road ahead is wide open.
Naturally, I went for the mega breakfast, with a pot of tea and a glass of orange juice to round it off. As expected—absolutely gorgeous.
Mrs C made me put a napkin on over my Motorrad riding t-shirt; she's knows me a bit too well and expected some egg to drop off my fork 🤣
From Heatwave to Downpour
We set off under a blazing sun, the kind that makes you question your choice of riding gear within minutes. It was hot—really hot—and we were sweating before we even left town. But the scenery was stunning, and the road was calling.
The ride to Bala was smooth and sun-drenched. But just as we turned off toward Harlech, the weather flipped like a switch. Dark clouds rolled in, the skies turned charcoal grey, and then came the rain—torrential, relentless, and a bit chilly. The temperature dropped sharply, and we were suddenly riding through a wall of water.
Harlech in the Mist
By the time we reached Harlech, the castle was barely visible—shrouded in mist and rain like something out of a gothic novel. We couldn’t see the coastline, and the usual signs of summer—caravan parks, beachgoers, ice cream vans—were nowhere to be found.
But even in the gloom, the ride had its own kind of magic. The landscape felt wild and untamed, the kind of beauty that doesn’t need sunshine to shine.
Soaked but Smiling
We carried on to Barmouth, soaked to the bone but still grinning. Because sometimes, it’s not about the perfect weather or the clear views. It’s about the ride, the chit chatter in the helmets, and the stories you collect along the way.
As we rode through Barmouth, the skies cleared as quickly as they had darkened. The sun returned in full force, the temperature shot back up to 26°C, and just like that, it felt like summer again.
We continued on to Bala Lake, where we finally took a well-earned break after 2 hours and 47 minutes of continuous riding. The stop was mandatory—not just for the rest, but for the essentials: a cold lemon Fanta and a classic ice cream. Bliss.
And we weren’t the only ones out making the most of the day—hundreds of bikes were on the roads, all soaking up the sunshine and the scenery. It felt like one big, rolling community.
Stopped by the GL for a quick pint before heading home, soaking up the late afternoon sun with a cold beer and a glass of wine. Dinner was a winner—linguine on the menu, PC’s all-time favourite. Yum!
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