Holiday in Wales: My Bulli is My Castle

Flo proves useful - in many ways

A Bulli has four wheels, logically, but now there are two legs. The legs are in jeans, and out of the jeans sticks out a naked torso. No bad abdominal muscles. Curious, I lense under our VW bus: Oh, Darren, you old addict, I thought so! I had seen you at Flo just before, when I came down the steep coast. Embarrassed Darren crawls out:? Sorry, just wanted to see if everything is original.? That he used to have such a bulli himself and was totally obsessed with it, the nice Englishman told us yesterday, when we arrived at the campsite. It's already clear: Flo is a man magnet. Bring well-built specimens to lay half naked on our backs? in a completely defenseless position.

We did not look for a man magnet when we were combing the net for holiday ideas, my friend Anna and me. We wanted to finally feel free again, go on vacation, stay and go, when and where we wanted to go? a bit like the hippies who gondelten in the 70s with their Bullis to India. Just where, if you do not have half a year to travel? Not even half a month?

Gear in and let roll? for a picnic at the Bergsee Tal-y-Llyn. And do not forget: always stay on the left!

When Flo looked at us on the Internet from friendly headlight eyes, we knew: This rolling retro apartment should be. With Flo? so called the VW bus landlord lovingly his Bulli-lady? We wanted to drive through Wales, through lush green mountains to lonely beaches, mighty fairytale castles and people who always fought for their freedom. We planned a tour through the proud province of Gwynedd in the northwest, where people are still? Os gwelwch yn dda? ? ?Yes, please!? say to Welsh Tea in the afternoon and? Dim diolch? ? ?No thanks!? to soy latte macchiato. Where the snow-drenched Mount Snowdon juts out into the sky and the Llyn peninsula into the Irish Sea like the trunk of a thirsty elephant.

Too bad, wild camping is prohibited in Wales

We spend our first night together at a "Caravan Park"? at Welshpool. Flo looks great between all the rentnerbeigefarbenen campers with plastic windows and name as Crusader? and? Conqueror ?. Turquoise like the sea, knows how the surf shines like a lady of the world. She is enthusiastically received by our male fellow campers: "A beauty!" Phil praises in passing. "Sharp bus!" Says Tom from Manchester; and the knobby Steve bends my elbows in the ribs and whispers with conspiratorial undertone: "A gem, the little ones !?

Where mountains flow into the sea: Susanne and Anna breathe in the evening silence on the beach of the camping Aberafon on the peninsula Llyn

So charming here are all three of us's shoreline? We are chugging west along winding lanes, through grassy green hills that have been garnished remarkably consistently with sheep. Until we smell the algae, the moist salt. But what has the Watt lost in the mountains? Shortly before the coast, the ridges of a vast sandy area give way. "What do I only know about New Zealand?" Anna says wide-eyed. "I do not know anything like that ?, I am amazed: Sailboats moored between the mountain sides on finely wavy sandbanks, streams and puddles sparkle; On the slate-gray shores, paddle boats are turning upside down like faded walnut halves. We scroll through the guide: This must be the estuary of the Dovey River, a funnel-shaped estuary into the sea, which is more or less dry depending on the tidal range.

We get out and let Flo take a breather. Under our feet, the mussels crunch like bursting ice as we follow the river mouth to the seaside resort of Aberdovey. At the Victorian beach promenade we get a helping of ginger ice cream, which we then eat at the endless dune beach, where a few teenagers with sunburnt calves empty and smack beer cans. With a heavy heart we turn around so that Flo brings us to the campsite. Wild camping is prohibited in Wales.

There are castles on every corner: here the Chirk Castle

? Closer would be in there!?, I bellow a short time later at the campsite? Cae you? and fumble a hectic? Stop !? in the air, so that Anna Flo does not put in the sea. There is a clear division of labor between us: Anna drives, I say where; Anna cooks, I wash off. And Flo introduces us to the camping community: Ray, standing a few feet farther in his # 54 Bulli, wandering over to admire our vehicle, little Florence, aka Flo, comes out of the beach and is pleased to see ours Bus is just like her.Neighbor David also had a "T2" until it became too tight for a family of five; and a guy with shaggy hair and a tousled dog reports that he's broken again? as so often.

We are free as the hippies who gondelten in the 70s with their Bullis to India

Flo is not only a first-class contact exchange, with Flo we are also in the front row when luck is handed out: on the edge of the cliff we let the legs of Flos roof dangle and watch the sun melt away in the sea. All around us marshmallows are grilled, dogs are scratched, even trapped fish is consumed, and it is blasted what the stuff because that evening is so exquisitely beautiful and this place so unique. A swarm of black rubber duck marauds on the beach, a heron swings across the sea, and a dolphin weaves its course in the most beautiful uniformity through the bay.

When it gets dark, two walruses climb from the Bullidach: Anna and I, lumbering with wine, drunk with wonder. We crawl into Flos stomach, put our cold feet in the sleeping bags and empty the rest of the bottle at the Flo-TV: The nostalgic screen flickering the sheared mountains of the Llyn peninsula, the fiery fire of our fellow campers? and the inevitable sheep, which we do not need to count to find sleep.

Hard-keen Wales travelers go swimming: Anna against the backdrop of the village of Porthdinllaen on the Llyn peninsula

In the morning, neighbor Joseph bakes beans on his fire and wants to know where we're going next: along the coast to the north, we tell, to the castles of Harlech and Caernarfon, where Prince Charles was crowned heir to the throne in 1969, then high in the mountains , The man nods in satisfaction and adds: "The Spit? at the Mawddach Estuary is the most beautiful place in the world? a spit overlooking the estuary, Mount Cadair Idris and the seaside resort of Barmouth with its slate houses. And then he tells us what he said yesterday before falling asleep to his wife: "Fortunately we do not have a bulli, otherwise we would constantly talk to any people !?

A giant resting on the highest peak, a sacred sword in the lake: Wales is full of myths

When the sun sets on the horizon on our last day on the beach, we do not suspect that we will not see her again so quickly: in the mountains of Snowdonia National Park the landscape is hatched. We still drive up to the Pen-y Pass, leaving Flo in the rain and trudge to Mount Snowdon, the highest mountain in Wales at 1085 meters, to which the Welsh have heaped numerous myths: The giant Rhita is to be buried on the summit, King Arthur has killed, and over the mountain lake Llyn Llydaw the Celtic king is sailed to Avalon. Some people believe that in this lake also Arthur? Magic Sword Excalibur rusting to himself. No myth: The team that defeated Mount Everest in 1953 trained at Snowdon.

Mountain air! Susanne on the way to Mount Snowdon

Even before the ascent we meet Enid? she takes only a walk and is connected by walkie-talkie with her daughter, who is already almost at the top. The hilarious lady says she climbed the Snowdon five years ago, now? with 85? but prefer to leave. And that Prince William, who is stationed on the nearby island of Anglesey as a rescue pilot, have already rescued Wanderer in this area. We're considering tumbling down a rock, but Enid declines: That's not worth it, William is in Canada right now. Disappointed, we sit down on the shore of the copper-green Llyn Llydaw and listen to what the sheep have to moan about again; indignant they challenge each other to mow. "Did you know that there are almost twice as many sheep in Wales as humans?" Asks Enid. We nod and agree: The short-eaten Welsh hills must have been the inspiration for Märklin designers. Whether the hills are hollow here?

It does not help, if we want to go up, we have to go on, and the good Enid pays us a handful of cream-like sweets. Two curves later, it sits enthroned in front of us: Mount Snowdon, dark, rugged, repellent. Sun-hunt Shadow stains, a cloud rolls over the mountain side towards us like a smoke roller, the cold wind eats on the rise in our hands and colors them red. "Let's say, do we really want to get up there?" Asks Anna. "Okay?" I reply unmoved and push her on. Three hours later green velvet hills are at our feet, the valleys filled with water, the sheep only stray cream splatters. I turn around to suck in the panorama until Anna boxes me in the side: "Well, happy ?? Only now do I realize that a grin has frozen in my face:? And how !?

When we end up dripping wet and flopping on Flos's comfortable seats, it feels like coming home, and I know Flo is a multiple personality? sometimes radiant beauty, sometimes sweet fellow with saucer eyes, friend, girlfriend, vehicle and companion. Flo gave us freedom and security plus unparalleled bed prospects.And the insight that Anna and I are a dream team even in the very smallest room. As a farewell, we place the Hendrix CD in the glove box that we have heard so many times? so that Flo has something left of us if she has to drive strangers through Wales in the future. When no one looks, I kiss Flo on the polished bottom and whisper: As soon as we have the money, we buy you free! Promised!

Pole position on Shell Island: Just brush your teeth for a short time? and then climb to Flo's roof and watch the sun go down

Travel Tips: Holidays in Wales

Rent a Bulli: A few miles east of Snowdonia National Park, pretty Bullis await holiday adventures. From 680 euros / week (Ty Hywel, Llangynog, Oswestry, Shropshire, Tel. 01 691/860 12 54, www.celticcamperco.co.uk). Also www.vwcampervanhire.com rents retro Bullis. The price is usually added taxes and fees, z. For example, if you want to drive with a German driver's license; Ask for final price!

camping: The travel guide "Cool Camping Wales" by Jonathan Knight introduces the 60 most charming campsites in Wales (18.95 Euro, Punk Publishing Ltd.).

With or without Bulli: The five most beautiful pit stops

Soak up the sea air: Aberdovey Small Victorian seaside resort with a wide beach at the mouth of the river Dovey. Try the homemade ice cream in the "Sweet Shop". B. Heavenly Honey (Sea View Terrace 2). "Cae Du", our favorite campsite by the sea, is just 20 minutes up the coast. Two adults / bulli 15 euros (Rhoslefain, Tywyn LL36 9ND, Tel. 016 54/71 12 34).

2. Strolling: Dolgellau Town in the interior with flower-adorned slate houses, from which one does not want to leave. Especially if you eat in the café "T.H. Roberts" through the pies (Parliament House, Heol Glyndwr, Tel. 013 41/42 35 52). If you want to get going: in 15 minutes you are at the top of the mountain lake Tal-y-Llyn Lake, and in the beer garden of the "Pen-y-Bont-Hotel" there is a mackerel with lake view (Tel. 016 54/78 22 85, www.pen- y-bonthotel.co.uk). Have a picnic? Then continue through the sheep gate to the brook - and spread the blanket on Kleewiesen on the shore.

3. Beach Fun: Llyn Peninsula Park in Morfa Nefyn and stroll along the beach to the car-free village of Porthdinllaen. You can refresh yourself in the pub "Ty Coch Inn" - with the beach as a terrace. Food until 4pm, rippling open end (Tel: 017 58/72 04 98, www.tycoch.co.uk). If you want to stay, on the campsite "Aberafon" you will find beautiful parking spaces by the sea. 2 Erw./Bulli 15 Euro (Gyrn Goch, Tel. 012 86/66 02 95, www.aberafon.co.uk).

4. Be once castle princess: Caernarfon The largest castle of King Edward I is part of the UNESCO World Heritage. Prince Charles was crowned here (www.cadw.wales.gov.uk). And after sightseeing in "Y Tebot Bach" to apple pie, waffles and scones, served at white-laid tables (13 Castle St, Tel 012 86/67 84 44).

5th summit storm: Mount Snowdon You want the highest mountain in Wales in the Snowdonia National Park? Turn off Bulli at the Pen-y Pass and start running: The "Miners' Track" leads past the ruin of the Britannia copper mine, the "Pyg Track" is lonely (6 hours back and forth). A homebase for the ascent is the campsite "Gwern Gôf Isaf Farm" - if you look at the stream, the road is not heard. 2 Erw./Bulli 13 Euro (A5 between Capel Curig and Bethesda, diagonally across from Llyn Ogwen Lake, Tel. 016 90/72 02 76, www.gwerngofisaf.co.uk).

Phone: United Kingdom dialing code: 00 44

Info: Welsh Tourist Office, www.visitwales.com.