A month after I graduated from High School, my brother and I traveled to the United Kingdom. We stayed there for five weeks and toured through England, Scotland and Wales (not necessarily in that order). I was 17 years old and my brother was 21. I had just graduated high school, he had just graduated college. The trip was a gift from our maternal grandparents. It was a sort of Heritage trip, a chance to learn more about where our family came from. (And I profusely thank them both for the incredible gift they gave us. It was amazing for me!)
Caernarfon is in Wales, in the far Northeastern corner overlooking the sea that stretches to Ireland. It is sometimes spelled Caernarvon, in an anglicized version that is not used so much these days. The history of this area goes back to Roman times – when there was a fort called Segontium not far from the present day castle of Caernarfon.
The castle in the pictures is one that was built by Edward I in the 13th century. It was made to impress, to awe, to convince the people of Wales of England’s right to be in their country. It did impress and it was awe inspiring, at least for this American girl who had all sorts of fantastical and romantic dreams of Britain.
