Great British Railway Journeys (2010) s02e09 Episode Script
Llanwrst to Porthmadog
In 1840, one man transformed travel in Britain.
His name was George Bradshaw, and his railway guides inspired the Victorians to take to the tracks.
Stop by stop, he told them where to travel, what to see and where to stay.
Now, 170 years later, I'm making a series of journeys across the length and breadth of the country to see what of Bradshaw's Britain remains.
In recent days, I've been travelling along a railway line that was built to speed the link between London and Dublin.
It was a vital route of communication carrying the Irish mail.
And it boosted trade and tourism along its length.
I'm journeying across North Wales using my 19th-century Bradshaw's Guide towards the Irish ferry port of Holyhead.
But today, I'm taking time out to make a diversion along the line that was built in the 1860s, following the course of the Conwy River through some of Wales's most beautiful scenery, to discover more about what these Welsh hills are made of and the sorts of people they attracted in Bradshaw's day.
In the 19th century, the railways sprouted mile after mile of branch lines.
My "Bradshaw's Guide" has sent me to explore one of the prettiest in Wales to appreciate how even a secondary line could transform the fortunes of a locality.
Along the way, I'll be discovering how trains helped an early mail-order business - What is it that they contain? - Iron.
- And does it give you energy? - Of course it does.
staying in Britain's first artists' colony One of the descriptions in the 1840s is that it looks like the encampment of an invading army.
Because every rock has got an artist sitting on it.
and exploring the Victorian slate capital of the world.
We've popped out into a different universe.
Where are the trees now? Where is the green? Just piles and piles and piles of grey slate.
So far, I've travelled almost 150 miles from Ledbury to Llandudno.
Now I'm heading deep into North Wales and exploring Snowdonia before crossing the Menai Straits to Anglesey and Holyhead.
My first stop today is Llanrwst, then on to Betws-y-Coed, Blaenau Ffestiniog and finally Porthmadog.
This stretch of the journey takes me on a detour, away from the main line to Holyhead along the Conwy Valley, on a branch that was built in the 1860s.
I've never been down this line before and already I'm surprised.
The Conwy River is much wider than I had expected.
It's very lush and green.
Actually, Bradshaw should have prepared me for this.
He says, "This valley is remarkable for its beauty and fertility, its luxuriant pastures, cornfields and groves.
" "And these are finely contrasted with the bleak appearance of the Snowdon mountain, which towers in frowning majesty above.
" Just about right.
In Bradshaw's era, towns across the country cried out to be linked to the railway network, hungry for economic benefit.
New lines like this spread like wildfire.
- Good morning.
- Welcome to the Conwy Valley.
Thank you very much.
It's a fantastic railway.
Was it built for tourism, do you think? No, the original reason for this line was to convey the products of the slate quarrying town of Blaenau Ffestiniog to the coast.
That was the real reason for the line.
But as the years have emerged and industry has changed, then tourism very much is now our main feature.
North Llanrwst Station opened in 1863.
Bye.
The line carried slate and the mountains became accessible to rail passengers for the first time.
North Llanrwst Station is beautifully situated and it was obviously built on a scale.
A gateway to welcome tourists and visitors.
Now looking a little bit like faded splendour.
I've come to see what attracted all the visitors.
Bradshaw writes, "In the vicinity is Trefriw in the hollow of the Caernarfonshire hills where there are some salubrious mineral waters.
" The Trefriw springs were a local secret until the 19th century.
When the railway arrived, the town blossomed into a fully fledged spa with a bath house and pump room.
The bath house is no more but, of course, the famous waters flow still.
- Hello, Hilary.
- Hello, Michael.
Hilary Rogers-Jones is a guide at the spa.
So these are this spa waters of Trefriw? Yes, they certainly are.
And Bradshaw, my 19th-century guide, he says they are very salubrious waters.
And efficacious.
And why is that? What is it that they contain? - Iron.
- Iron? And it's in solution.
It was called Trefriw chalybeate.
I think he may have mentioned chalybeate waters, which is iron in solution.
- Does it give you energy? - Of course it does.
How do you best take it? Do you ingest it or bathe in it? No, you take it.
They used to bathe in it.
In Bradshaw's time, they bathed in it.
It was said that these iron-rich waters provided a natural cure for anaemia.
Demand rocketed.
And taking advantage of the new branch line, the spa created one of the earliest mail-order businesses that made use of rail.
They could get it in the post as well.
Here is one of the very old boxes.
- That's fantastic.
- With the bottles.
It has Trefriw Wells on it.
I presume sent off on the train.
Yes, they'd be collected from here.
That's when a post office came into Trefriw.
Then of course, so much went by rail in those days.
I had no idea that at that stage you could send away and get a little bottle of water.
Very expensive.
This would be 42 shillings for an eight-week supply of water, which was a tremendous amount of money in those days, just imagine.
- That is.
- It's a lot of money.
- That is staggering.
- It is.
- They must have believed in it.
- They did.
Back then, 42 shillings was over a week's wages for most workers.
So the mail-order service was an expensive luxury for the rich.
Those who took the train to the spa could also take a dip in the special waters.
And this is the bath house that people used to bathe in from 1833 when it was built.
- That's a huge bath.
- It is.
What's this made of? - Slate.
Good Welsh slate.
- Yes.
- The water just - Just used to come.
- Tumbling off the mountain.
- Into here.
I can understand if you drink iron, that might do you some good.
But bathing in it, would that do you any good? They believed it would, and faith is a wonderful thing.
- Faith.
Faith is everything - It is, isn't it? I think I'll skip the bath.
But I wouldn't mind a taste of these famous waters.
Mind your head.
Dark and damp.
Look at those iron stalactites.
Fascinating.
Down the hatch.
Very metallic.
- It's not so bad.
- I don't mind it.
But some people - It's metallic but it's not unpleasant.
- No, it isn't, is it? No, just like drinking steel.
Today, the water still compensates for iron deficiency and is sold all over the world.
As for me, I'm heading to the station where I need to be on the ball to catch my next train.
At rural stations, the trains stop only by request.
I've never had to do this with a train before, only with a bus or taxi but I guess the technique is similar.
That seems to have done it.
I'm now travelling another three miles along the beautiful Conwy Valley to one of North Wales's prettiest villages, Betws-y-Coed.
I can't resist stopping here.
I've heard it's a train enthusiast's paradise.
A whole world of railways opens up in front of the station here.
A little North American steam engine.
An electric tram.
Ancient rolling stock with apparently a restaurant in it.
Fantastic.
Bradshaw would have loved it.
The spectacular model railway shop at Betws-y-Coed is owned by Colin Cartwright.
This is the most amazing emporium.
It makes me feel like a kid.
- Lovely to see you, Michael.
- This place is famous.
It must be one of the best model railway shops in the world.
- I think you could be right.
- You've got everything here.
It's not just a shop, it's a playground.
This is every boy's dream.
All you have to do is press the button and you will control a train.
It will come into life.
There you are.
Look what we've got here.
We've got a huge station with about six roads.
We've got overbridges, we've got scenery.
I love this, Colin.
I only had a clockwork model railway and some of my friends had electrics.
I always wanted to have an electric.
Are you now realising your ambitions of actually controlling a train yourself? At last I have realised my ambitions.
It had to come some time.
You actually stopped it in the station.
I tried to do that.
The first model trains in the 1890s were known as carpet railways because they didn't run on tracks.
They were powered by miniature steam engines.
Today's models are usually powered by rather duller electricity.
- They're such fun, aren't they? - They certainly are.
When you think that we were the pioneers of all railways and I think it's lovely we can continue, especially with the youngsters of today, continue what's gone on before.
It's not just youngsters, is it? I've seen some of your prices; thousands of pounds.
These are people with money who are investing in model railways.
We think that it is not only a passion for railways, it's also a relaxation.
I think it keeps families together.
But Bradshaw didn't come here for the model railways.
He writes, "In a dream sheltered nook of the Conwy, it's a resort well known to anglers and artists.
" In the 19th century, Betws-y-Coed became popular with painters who came to capture nature in this beautiful location.
- Peter, hello.
- Hello, nice to see you.
I'm hoping art historian Peter Lord can explain why.
Now, Bradshaw talks about Betws-y-Coed as being a resort that attracts artists.
That's been your great speciality.
How did all that begin, the artists? It begins a long time before Bradshaw actually.
You're standing in one of the very early English tourist sites in Wales, or in Britain, to tell the truth.
In fact, Betws-y-Coed was the first artist colony in the country.
It started with David Cox, who became one of the most distinguished landscape painters of his time.
Cox starts to come here for the summer and stays over all summers between 1844 and 1856.
And he brings with him his friends.
Cox is the man.
He's the big English painter.
Anybody who wants to be anybody in the art world in London follows Cox here.
Cox's landscapes helped to publicise the glories of the area, like the dramatic Swallow Falls.
This is very lovely, isn't it? Obviously there's a lot more water in the winter and you get the foam.
This was the sort of place that attracted David Cox? Absolutely.
One of the descriptions in the 1840s, 1850s of the place is that it looks like the encampment of an invading army.
Because there are easels and white tents and every rock has an artist sitting on it.
It was getting a bit crowded by then.
So he would wander off, teach a bit, talk to other artists.
He was a very sociable man.
Everybody liked him.
It's a fantastic scene that you paint.
It's almost unimaginable now that the hills would be alive with artists.
The hills were alive with artists.
That's a good way of putting it.
Eventually, that becomes a tourist attraction in itself.
You don't just come to Betws to see the scenery, you come to see the artists.
From the 1860s when the railway line opened, artists and tourists descended on Betws-y-Coed in ever greater numbers bringing wealth and fame to the village.
So you brought me now in the back of the railway station.
But you need to be looking that way.
- Ah, beautiful.
- We've got the lovely medieval church, which is rather ironic because from this place, just further on, David Cox painted his very famous picture, The Welsh Funeral, painted in 1848.
That's one of the key events in drawing people to Betws.
He painted it, or the view that he shows in the picture, was more or less the middle of the railway line over there.
The railway is driven through the scene we see in the painting.
Absolutely.
It is ironic.
It's, in part, the fame of Cox's picture which drew people to Betws.
They came on the train after 1868, middle-class tourists started to come.
It's an extraordinary thing really but I think it's a reflection of the times.
The railway comes for good economic reasons.
It's high Victorian capitalism.
The moans of a few artists and spoiling the view won't make much difference.
The first hotel to accommodate the artists opened in 1768 and, luckily for me, it's open still.
We're on our way to the Royal Oak.
This is where David Cox and all the early tourists would have stayed.
It's a lot more grand now than it was then.
But you'll find it very comfortable.
It's a lovely place to stay.
Cox came here often and painted a sign for the hotel which now hangs in the foyer.
It seems that in staying here, I follow a very distinguished guest list.
I've arranged for the old visitors' book to be here, so you can see that as well.
- Hello.
- Hello.
Here we are.
Magnificent volume.
That's contemporary with your Bradshaw.
It's the 1860s.
Back here with a bit of luck, I've marked it.
There we can see the loyal incorporation of artists at Betws-y-Coed.
Here's a list of the artists in residence on October 3rd, 1867.
Down the bottom, you can see why they came.
They came for the booze, to have a smoke.
Oh, and to fish.
Fishing.
- Fishing was a big thing in Betws.
- Bradshaw mentions angling here.
So it was an all-round experience.
- Fabulous.
- But they're all here.
Fabulous.
The next morning I set out for the train station to continue my journey.
I'm leaving the lush valley of Betws-y-Coed for the mining town of Blaenau Ffestiniog.
You cannot imagine anything more rural or more green than this.
But I have been told that I will shortly pass through a tunnel two miles long.
The longest single-track tunnel in Britain.
And at the other end, I will pop out into another world.
This tunnel was built in 1879.
It takes me straight through the mountain to what was in Bradshaw's day the slate capital of Wales.
We've popped out into a different universe.
Where are the trees now? Where is the green? Where are the sheep, where are the farms? Just piles and piles and piles of grey slate.
A great grey mountain reaching down to the tracks.
These huge heaps of slate are the waste from the quarries that have dominated the area for hundreds of years.
The slate industry is all about.
And Bradshaw wrote of what he saw.
"An inclined plane leads up to the edge of the vast mountain, on the sides of which above 2,000 hands are employed in hacking and splitting.
" In its heyday, there were about ten slate quarries in Blaenau Ffestiniog alone.
I'm meeting managing director Andrew Roberts, who runs one of just two that are left.
- Good morning, Andrew, I'm Michael.
- Bore da.
Croeso i Blaenau Ffestiniog.
Thank you very much for your welcome to your amazing town, which I see down here in the valley.
I came down on the railway this morning.
Presumably that railway was built for this very purpose, for the carrying of slate.
The railway theme has been very important to the slate industry, you know, since the 1830s.
The Ffestiniog Railway, for example.
It was built because of the need to take the slate from Ffestiniog down to the port at Porthmadog and then shipped all over the world.
So, historically, it wouldn't have happened without the railway.
By the late 19th century, the industry was at its peak.
Two trains a day carried 400 tons of slate down to the port.
The quarries were criss-crossed with tracks that conveyed the slate to the trains.
Nowadays, slate is quarried at the surface.
But in Bradshaw's time, vast caverns were dug down into the hillside.
I've just thrown a stone to make me realise that that is very, very deep indeed.
Almost every man in the village worked at the mine, many labouring by candlelight, blasting out the slate with explosives.
It's quite moving, isn't it? It must have been very hard and it must have been quite dangerous.
Yeah, very, very dangerous.
You relied heavily on the skills of your fellow workers.
You trusted them, you had to put your trust in them.
Working and drilling in very tight confined spaces with explosives.
It's very hazardous.
Welsh blue-grey slate was considered one of the best in the world because it kept its colour well and could be split cleanly by hand into a variety of sizes.
In the 20th century, imports began to displace it.
Now it's mainly used in restoration projects and it all travels by road.
Now, my Bradshaw's Guide refers to the workers piling up the slates in their thousands and categorising them according to size and name.
He talks about duchesses and countesses and ladies.
- Does that mean anything to you? - It means a lot to me.
It's the day-to-day language of this mill.
The duchess would be larger and the lady smaller.
That's correct.
You use the same terminology as they used in the 19th century.
We do.
It's unique to the Welsh slate industry.
Something that will continue while we still produce slate from this mill.
Many of the workers, like Glyn Daniels, have fathers and grandfathers who worked in the slate mines, passing on their skills.
Glyn can produce around 700 tiles a day.
He's going to teach me what he does.
I love the chair.
Is this also part of the tradition? Sit myself down like this.
- Quite a light tap to begin with? - Yes.
It's splitting already.
Now lever a little bit.
- Put your hand there.
- Put my hand there.
Oh.
What a fantastic feeling.
Look at that.
Did I do that? Once the slate is split, it's trimmed and shaped by machine so it will fit snugly against other tiles.
Beautiful, so that now has a lovely cambered edge.
That is the dressing.
And so this is a fully dressed lady.
Lovely piece of work.
In the future, the slate industry may change again.
Andrew's big hope is to use the waste from the quarries for road building.
His dream is to transport slate on the railways once more, back down the line to Conwy.
As for me, I'm looking forward to riding on the Blaenau Ffestiniog Railway.
Founded in 1832, it's the oldest independent railway company in the world.
Now it's a heritage line, carrying tourists down to Porthmadog on the coast.
- Hello, driver.
I'm Michael.
- Hello, Michael.
I'm Paul.
How does this lovely engine drive? Beautifully.
It's unique to the railway.
- The wheels are articulated underneath.
- It's articulated, you can go round - Very sharp corners.
- You've got sharp corners? When it was built, engineers experimented with the track to negotiate the winding hillside.
It was one of the most important railways of its time.
It was a real leader in the field.
They realised very quickly they couldn't build standard gauge in the terrain we're at.
The railway also pioneered a kind of double engine that enabled it to power long, heavy slate trains through the steep mountains.
As the slate industry declined, so too did the railway.
And the last slate train left Blaenau Ffestiniog in 1946.
But less than ten years later, it reopened as a tourist line.
Even today its enthusiasts are growing in number.
Do you work on the line a lot? I come up several times a year, just to volunteer.
- You're a volunteer? - Yes, I am.
- Why do you volunteer? - I just fell in love with it.
I decided to become a guard so I'm doing my training at the moment.
How lovely.
- This is just for the love of it.
- Just for the love of it, yes.
Knowing the line so well, what would you pick out as a highlight I should keep my eye open for? One thing the railway is famous for is its Cob.
It splits the estuary.
It's got some fantastic wildlife and you can see a wonderful view of Snowdon from it as well.
The long embankment called the Cob near Porthmadog was originally built in 1811 to reclaim land from the estuary for farming.
It later proved to be the perfect structure to carry the railway.
So now at last I've discovered what the Cob is.
This immense sea defence.
This huge wall.
The railway runs along the top level of it and two lanes of cars run along the bottom level and then that's holding the sea behind me at bay and creating this vast inland piece of reclaimed land, and giving us the most fantastic views towards that looming peak of Snowdon.
Riding the Cob takes me almost to the harbour at Porthmadog where the slate was unloaded.
And last stop for me, too.
Porthmadog Harbour began to export small tonnages of slate in the early 19th century.
When the railway gave it a high-capacity link to the slate quarries, it flourished.
By the 1870s, over 120,000 tons of slate were loaded at Porthmadog every year.
- John.
I'm Michael.
- Hello, Michael.
Great to see you.
I'm hoping maritime history enthusiast Dr John Jones Morris can tell me more.
The railway arrived at the harbour in 1836 and allowed the easy transport of slate from the quarries down to the quaysides here at Porthmadog for subsequent export by sea.
The standard trade was for the slate to be loaded on ships.
Usually they would leave in about April.
Demand for slate would either be in southern England or on the continent.
Quite a lot of the slate went to the continent, particularly to Germany.
In the early part of the 19th century, there was quite a huge fire in Hamburg and the quarry owners at Blaenau Ffestiniog, seeing a good opportunity, went over there and persuaded the city fathers to re-roof the city with Ffestiniog slate, or Porthmadog slate as we like to call it.
The ships, having delivered their cargo in Europe, were filled up with heavy ballast to give them stability on the return voyage to Porthmadog.
They used anything to hand from rubbish to rocks.
Having arrived at Porthmadog, they had to dispose of the ballast and they found a sandbank there and started unloading the ballast on to the island.
And as you can see, it's built a considerable island over the years.
That lovely stretch of green? That sits on top of rocks from many parts of the Mediterranean.
If you were to dig down, there'd be all sorts of different types of rock and rubble you would find.
There is a corner of a Welsh port that is forever Europe.
Indeed.
Yes, there is.
As I've journeyed along the narrow tracks and valleys of the Welsh mountains, I've once more admired the skills of the Victorian railway builders.
Their ingenuity opened this corner of Wales to opportunities and to visitors.
Victorian artists and tourists were attracted to the Conwy Valley because of its glorious landscape.
Victorian mining companies were drawn to these parts because of what lay beneath that landscape.
Now I'm looking forward to tackling that most famous piece of Welsh geology, Mount Snowdon.
On the next leg of my journey, I'll be travelling to lofty mountain heights It's magnificent.
And it's really imposing.
turning my tongue to the Welsh language So it's fairly easy really.
Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrn- drobwllllantysiliogogogoch.
and tasting one of Wales's Salt.
It really hits you from the sides of the tongue.
It's got a wonderful texture.
It's really crunchy.
His name was George Bradshaw, and his railway guides inspired the Victorians to take to the tracks.
Stop by stop, he told them where to travel, what to see and where to stay.
Now, 170 years later, I'm making a series of journeys across the length and breadth of the country to see what of Bradshaw's Britain remains.
In recent days, I've been travelling along a railway line that was built to speed the link between London and Dublin.
It was a vital route of communication carrying the Irish mail.
And it boosted trade and tourism along its length.
I'm journeying across North Wales using my 19th-century Bradshaw's Guide towards the Irish ferry port of Holyhead.
But today, I'm taking time out to make a diversion along the line that was built in the 1860s, following the course of the Conwy River through some of Wales's most beautiful scenery, to discover more about what these Welsh hills are made of and the sorts of people they attracted in Bradshaw's day.
In the 19th century, the railways sprouted mile after mile of branch lines.
My "Bradshaw's Guide" has sent me to explore one of the prettiest in Wales to appreciate how even a secondary line could transform the fortunes of a locality.
Along the way, I'll be discovering how trains helped an early mail-order business - What is it that they contain? - Iron.
- And does it give you energy? - Of course it does.
staying in Britain's first artists' colony One of the descriptions in the 1840s is that it looks like the encampment of an invading army.
Because every rock has got an artist sitting on it.
and exploring the Victorian slate capital of the world.
We've popped out into a different universe.
Where are the trees now? Where is the green? Just piles and piles and piles of grey slate.
So far, I've travelled almost 150 miles from Ledbury to Llandudno.
Now I'm heading deep into North Wales and exploring Snowdonia before crossing the Menai Straits to Anglesey and Holyhead.
My first stop today is Llanrwst, then on to Betws-y-Coed, Blaenau Ffestiniog and finally Porthmadog.
This stretch of the journey takes me on a detour, away from the main line to Holyhead along the Conwy Valley, on a branch that was built in the 1860s.
I've never been down this line before and already I'm surprised.
The Conwy River is much wider than I had expected.
It's very lush and green.
Actually, Bradshaw should have prepared me for this.
He says, "This valley is remarkable for its beauty and fertility, its luxuriant pastures, cornfields and groves.
" "And these are finely contrasted with the bleak appearance of the Snowdon mountain, which towers in frowning majesty above.
" Just about right.
In Bradshaw's era, towns across the country cried out to be linked to the railway network, hungry for economic benefit.
New lines like this spread like wildfire.
- Good morning.
- Welcome to the Conwy Valley.
Thank you very much.
It's a fantastic railway.
Was it built for tourism, do you think? No, the original reason for this line was to convey the products of the slate quarrying town of Blaenau Ffestiniog to the coast.
That was the real reason for the line.
But as the years have emerged and industry has changed, then tourism very much is now our main feature.
North Llanrwst Station opened in 1863.
Bye.
The line carried slate and the mountains became accessible to rail passengers for the first time.
North Llanrwst Station is beautifully situated and it was obviously built on a scale.
A gateway to welcome tourists and visitors.
Now looking a little bit like faded splendour.
I've come to see what attracted all the visitors.
Bradshaw writes, "In the vicinity is Trefriw in the hollow of the Caernarfonshire hills where there are some salubrious mineral waters.
" The Trefriw springs were a local secret until the 19th century.
When the railway arrived, the town blossomed into a fully fledged spa with a bath house and pump room.
The bath house is no more but, of course, the famous waters flow still.
- Hello, Hilary.
- Hello, Michael.
Hilary Rogers-Jones is a guide at the spa.
So these are this spa waters of Trefriw? Yes, they certainly are.
And Bradshaw, my 19th-century guide, he says they are very salubrious waters.
And efficacious.
And why is that? What is it that they contain? - Iron.
- Iron? And it's in solution.
It was called Trefriw chalybeate.
I think he may have mentioned chalybeate waters, which is iron in solution.
- Does it give you energy? - Of course it does.
How do you best take it? Do you ingest it or bathe in it? No, you take it.
They used to bathe in it.
In Bradshaw's time, they bathed in it.
It was said that these iron-rich waters provided a natural cure for anaemia.
Demand rocketed.
And taking advantage of the new branch line, the spa created one of the earliest mail-order businesses that made use of rail.
They could get it in the post as well.
Here is one of the very old boxes.
- That's fantastic.
- With the bottles.
It has Trefriw Wells on it.
I presume sent off on the train.
Yes, they'd be collected from here.
That's when a post office came into Trefriw.
Then of course, so much went by rail in those days.
I had no idea that at that stage you could send away and get a little bottle of water.
Very expensive.
This would be 42 shillings for an eight-week supply of water, which was a tremendous amount of money in those days, just imagine.
- That is.
- It's a lot of money.
- That is staggering.
- It is.
- They must have believed in it.
- They did.
Back then, 42 shillings was over a week's wages for most workers.
So the mail-order service was an expensive luxury for the rich.
Those who took the train to the spa could also take a dip in the special waters.
And this is the bath house that people used to bathe in from 1833 when it was built.
- That's a huge bath.
- It is.
What's this made of? - Slate.
Good Welsh slate.
- Yes.
- The water just - Just used to come.
- Tumbling off the mountain.
- Into here.
I can understand if you drink iron, that might do you some good.
But bathing in it, would that do you any good? They believed it would, and faith is a wonderful thing.
- Faith.
Faith is everything - It is, isn't it? I think I'll skip the bath.
But I wouldn't mind a taste of these famous waters.
Mind your head.
Dark and damp.
Look at those iron stalactites.
Fascinating.
Down the hatch.
Very metallic.
- It's not so bad.
- I don't mind it.
But some people - It's metallic but it's not unpleasant.
- No, it isn't, is it? No, just like drinking steel.
Today, the water still compensates for iron deficiency and is sold all over the world.
As for me, I'm heading to the station where I need to be on the ball to catch my next train.
At rural stations, the trains stop only by request.
I've never had to do this with a train before, only with a bus or taxi but I guess the technique is similar.
That seems to have done it.
I'm now travelling another three miles along the beautiful Conwy Valley to one of North Wales's prettiest villages, Betws-y-Coed.
I can't resist stopping here.
I've heard it's a train enthusiast's paradise.
A whole world of railways opens up in front of the station here.
A little North American steam engine.
An electric tram.
Ancient rolling stock with apparently a restaurant in it.
Fantastic.
Bradshaw would have loved it.
The spectacular model railway shop at Betws-y-Coed is owned by Colin Cartwright.
This is the most amazing emporium.
It makes me feel like a kid.
- Lovely to see you, Michael.
- This place is famous.
It must be one of the best model railway shops in the world.
- I think you could be right.
- You've got everything here.
It's not just a shop, it's a playground.
This is every boy's dream.
All you have to do is press the button and you will control a train.
It will come into life.
There you are.
Look what we've got here.
We've got a huge station with about six roads.
We've got overbridges, we've got scenery.
I love this, Colin.
I only had a clockwork model railway and some of my friends had electrics.
I always wanted to have an electric.
Are you now realising your ambitions of actually controlling a train yourself? At last I have realised my ambitions.
It had to come some time.
You actually stopped it in the station.
I tried to do that.
The first model trains in the 1890s were known as carpet railways because they didn't run on tracks.
They were powered by miniature steam engines.
Today's models are usually powered by rather duller electricity.
- They're such fun, aren't they? - They certainly are.
When you think that we were the pioneers of all railways and I think it's lovely we can continue, especially with the youngsters of today, continue what's gone on before.
It's not just youngsters, is it? I've seen some of your prices; thousands of pounds.
These are people with money who are investing in model railways.
We think that it is not only a passion for railways, it's also a relaxation.
I think it keeps families together.
But Bradshaw didn't come here for the model railways.
He writes, "In a dream sheltered nook of the Conwy, it's a resort well known to anglers and artists.
" In the 19th century, Betws-y-Coed became popular with painters who came to capture nature in this beautiful location.
- Peter, hello.
- Hello, nice to see you.
I'm hoping art historian Peter Lord can explain why.
Now, Bradshaw talks about Betws-y-Coed as being a resort that attracts artists.
That's been your great speciality.
How did all that begin, the artists? It begins a long time before Bradshaw actually.
You're standing in one of the very early English tourist sites in Wales, or in Britain, to tell the truth.
In fact, Betws-y-Coed was the first artist colony in the country.
It started with David Cox, who became one of the most distinguished landscape painters of his time.
Cox starts to come here for the summer and stays over all summers between 1844 and 1856.
And he brings with him his friends.
Cox is the man.
He's the big English painter.
Anybody who wants to be anybody in the art world in London follows Cox here.
Cox's landscapes helped to publicise the glories of the area, like the dramatic Swallow Falls.
This is very lovely, isn't it? Obviously there's a lot more water in the winter and you get the foam.
This was the sort of place that attracted David Cox? Absolutely.
One of the descriptions in the 1840s, 1850s of the place is that it looks like the encampment of an invading army.
Because there are easels and white tents and every rock has an artist sitting on it.
It was getting a bit crowded by then.
So he would wander off, teach a bit, talk to other artists.
He was a very sociable man.
Everybody liked him.
It's a fantastic scene that you paint.
It's almost unimaginable now that the hills would be alive with artists.
The hills were alive with artists.
That's a good way of putting it.
Eventually, that becomes a tourist attraction in itself.
You don't just come to Betws to see the scenery, you come to see the artists.
From the 1860s when the railway line opened, artists and tourists descended on Betws-y-Coed in ever greater numbers bringing wealth and fame to the village.
So you brought me now in the back of the railway station.
But you need to be looking that way.
- Ah, beautiful.
- We've got the lovely medieval church, which is rather ironic because from this place, just further on, David Cox painted his very famous picture, The Welsh Funeral, painted in 1848.
That's one of the key events in drawing people to Betws.
He painted it, or the view that he shows in the picture, was more or less the middle of the railway line over there.
The railway is driven through the scene we see in the painting.
Absolutely.
It is ironic.
It's, in part, the fame of Cox's picture which drew people to Betws.
They came on the train after 1868, middle-class tourists started to come.
It's an extraordinary thing really but I think it's a reflection of the times.
The railway comes for good economic reasons.
It's high Victorian capitalism.
The moans of a few artists and spoiling the view won't make much difference.
The first hotel to accommodate the artists opened in 1768 and, luckily for me, it's open still.
We're on our way to the Royal Oak.
This is where David Cox and all the early tourists would have stayed.
It's a lot more grand now than it was then.
But you'll find it very comfortable.
It's a lovely place to stay.
Cox came here often and painted a sign for the hotel which now hangs in the foyer.
It seems that in staying here, I follow a very distinguished guest list.
I've arranged for the old visitors' book to be here, so you can see that as well.
- Hello.
- Hello.
Here we are.
Magnificent volume.
That's contemporary with your Bradshaw.
It's the 1860s.
Back here with a bit of luck, I've marked it.
There we can see the loyal incorporation of artists at Betws-y-Coed.
Here's a list of the artists in residence on October 3rd, 1867.
Down the bottom, you can see why they came.
They came for the booze, to have a smoke.
Oh, and to fish.
Fishing.
- Fishing was a big thing in Betws.
- Bradshaw mentions angling here.
So it was an all-round experience.
- Fabulous.
- But they're all here.
Fabulous.
The next morning I set out for the train station to continue my journey.
I'm leaving the lush valley of Betws-y-Coed for the mining town of Blaenau Ffestiniog.
You cannot imagine anything more rural or more green than this.
But I have been told that I will shortly pass through a tunnel two miles long.
The longest single-track tunnel in Britain.
And at the other end, I will pop out into another world.
This tunnel was built in 1879.
It takes me straight through the mountain to what was in Bradshaw's day the slate capital of Wales.
We've popped out into a different universe.
Where are the trees now? Where is the green? Where are the sheep, where are the farms? Just piles and piles and piles of grey slate.
A great grey mountain reaching down to the tracks.
These huge heaps of slate are the waste from the quarries that have dominated the area for hundreds of years.
The slate industry is all about.
And Bradshaw wrote of what he saw.
"An inclined plane leads up to the edge of the vast mountain, on the sides of which above 2,000 hands are employed in hacking and splitting.
" In its heyday, there were about ten slate quarries in Blaenau Ffestiniog alone.
I'm meeting managing director Andrew Roberts, who runs one of just two that are left.
- Good morning, Andrew, I'm Michael.
- Bore da.
Croeso i Blaenau Ffestiniog.
Thank you very much for your welcome to your amazing town, which I see down here in the valley.
I came down on the railway this morning.
Presumably that railway was built for this very purpose, for the carrying of slate.
The railway theme has been very important to the slate industry, you know, since the 1830s.
The Ffestiniog Railway, for example.
It was built because of the need to take the slate from Ffestiniog down to the port at Porthmadog and then shipped all over the world.
So, historically, it wouldn't have happened without the railway.
By the late 19th century, the industry was at its peak.
Two trains a day carried 400 tons of slate down to the port.
The quarries were criss-crossed with tracks that conveyed the slate to the trains.
Nowadays, slate is quarried at the surface.
But in Bradshaw's time, vast caverns were dug down into the hillside.
I've just thrown a stone to make me realise that that is very, very deep indeed.
Almost every man in the village worked at the mine, many labouring by candlelight, blasting out the slate with explosives.
It's quite moving, isn't it? It must have been very hard and it must have been quite dangerous.
Yeah, very, very dangerous.
You relied heavily on the skills of your fellow workers.
You trusted them, you had to put your trust in them.
Working and drilling in very tight confined spaces with explosives.
It's very hazardous.
Welsh blue-grey slate was considered one of the best in the world because it kept its colour well and could be split cleanly by hand into a variety of sizes.
In the 20th century, imports began to displace it.
Now it's mainly used in restoration projects and it all travels by road.
Now, my Bradshaw's Guide refers to the workers piling up the slates in their thousands and categorising them according to size and name.
He talks about duchesses and countesses and ladies.
- Does that mean anything to you? - It means a lot to me.
It's the day-to-day language of this mill.
The duchess would be larger and the lady smaller.
That's correct.
You use the same terminology as they used in the 19th century.
We do.
It's unique to the Welsh slate industry.
Something that will continue while we still produce slate from this mill.
Many of the workers, like Glyn Daniels, have fathers and grandfathers who worked in the slate mines, passing on their skills.
Glyn can produce around 700 tiles a day.
He's going to teach me what he does.
I love the chair.
Is this also part of the tradition? Sit myself down like this.
- Quite a light tap to begin with? - Yes.
It's splitting already.
Now lever a little bit.
- Put your hand there.
- Put my hand there.
Oh.
What a fantastic feeling.
Look at that.
Did I do that? Once the slate is split, it's trimmed and shaped by machine so it will fit snugly against other tiles.
Beautiful, so that now has a lovely cambered edge.
That is the dressing.
And so this is a fully dressed lady.
Lovely piece of work.
In the future, the slate industry may change again.
Andrew's big hope is to use the waste from the quarries for road building.
His dream is to transport slate on the railways once more, back down the line to Conwy.
As for me, I'm looking forward to riding on the Blaenau Ffestiniog Railway.
Founded in 1832, it's the oldest independent railway company in the world.
Now it's a heritage line, carrying tourists down to Porthmadog on the coast.
- Hello, driver.
I'm Michael.
- Hello, Michael.
I'm Paul.
How does this lovely engine drive? Beautifully.
It's unique to the railway.
- The wheels are articulated underneath.
- It's articulated, you can go round - Very sharp corners.
- You've got sharp corners? When it was built, engineers experimented with the track to negotiate the winding hillside.
It was one of the most important railways of its time.
It was a real leader in the field.
They realised very quickly they couldn't build standard gauge in the terrain we're at.
The railway also pioneered a kind of double engine that enabled it to power long, heavy slate trains through the steep mountains.
As the slate industry declined, so too did the railway.
And the last slate train left Blaenau Ffestiniog in 1946.
But less than ten years later, it reopened as a tourist line.
Even today its enthusiasts are growing in number.
Do you work on the line a lot? I come up several times a year, just to volunteer.
- You're a volunteer? - Yes, I am.
- Why do you volunteer? - I just fell in love with it.
I decided to become a guard so I'm doing my training at the moment.
How lovely.
- This is just for the love of it.
- Just for the love of it, yes.
Knowing the line so well, what would you pick out as a highlight I should keep my eye open for? One thing the railway is famous for is its Cob.
It splits the estuary.
It's got some fantastic wildlife and you can see a wonderful view of Snowdon from it as well.
The long embankment called the Cob near Porthmadog was originally built in 1811 to reclaim land from the estuary for farming.
It later proved to be the perfect structure to carry the railway.
So now at last I've discovered what the Cob is.
This immense sea defence.
This huge wall.
The railway runs along the top level of it and two lanes of cars run along the bottom level and then that's holding the sea behind me at bay and creating this vast inland piece of reclaimed land, and giving us the most fantastic views towards that looming peak of Snowdon.
Riding the Cob takes me almost to the harbour at Porthmadog where the slate was unloaded.
And last stop for me, too.
Porthmadog Harbour began to export small tonnages of slate in the early 19th century.
When the railway gave it a high-capacity link to the slate quarries, it flourished.
By the 1870s, over 120,000 tons of slate were loaded at Porthmadog every year.
- John.
I'm Michael.
- Hello, Michael.
Great to see you.
I'm hoping maritime history enthusiast Dr John Jones Morris can tell me more.
The railway arrived at the harbour in 1836 and allowed the easy transport of slate from the quarries down to the quaysides here at Porthmadog for subsequent export by sea.
The standard trade was for the slate to be loaded on ships.
Usually they would leave in about April.
Demand for slate would either be in southern England or on the continent.
Quite a lot of the slate went to the continent, particularly to Germany.
In the early part of the 19th century, there was quite a huge fire in Hamburg and the quarry owners at Blaenau Ffestiniog, seeing a good opportunity, went over there and persuaded the city fathers to re-roof the city with Ffestiniog slate, or Porthmadog slate as we like to call it.
The ships, having delivered their cargo in Europe, were filled up with heavy ballast to give them stability on the return voyage to Porthmadog.
They used anything to hand from rubbish to rocks.
Having arrived at Porthmadog, they had to dispose of the ballast and they found a sandbank there and started unloading the ballast on to the island.
And as you can see, it's built a considerable island over the years.
That lovely stretch of green? That sits on top of rocks from many parts of the Mediterranean.
If you were to dig down, there'd be all sorts of different types of rock and rubble you would find.
There is a corner of a Welsh port that is forever Europe.
Indeed.
Yes, there is.
As I've journeyed along the narrow tracks and valleys of the Welsh mountains, I've once more admired the skills of the Victorian railway builders.
Their ingenuity opened this corner of Wales to opportunities and to visitors.
Victorian artists and tourists were attracted to the Conwy Valley because of its glorious landscape.
Victorian mining companies were drawn to these parts because of what lay beneath that landscape.
Now I'm looking forward to tackling that most famous piece of Welsh geology, Mount Snowdon.
On the next leg of my journey, I'll be travelling to lofty mountain heights It's magnificent.
And it's really imposing.
turning my tongue to the Welsh language So it's fairly easy really.
Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrn- drobwllllantysiliogogogoch.
and tasting one of Wales's Salt.
It really hits you from the sides of the tongue.
It's got a wonderful texture.
It's really crunchy.