Last night I was hoping to visit a harpist. This didn’t work out because his work and family commitments got in the way. Instead, I enjoyed a quiet afternoon writing and reading. This morning, Andy from Cresta Taxis took me to the picturesque village of Llandegla across the peat, heather and silver birch terrain of Llandegla Moor, in search of a sacred well. Gone are the lush meadows and forests of yesterday. Llandegla is named after Saint Thecla, one of the first Christian saints. He was in search of his sacred well.
A total contrast to Saint Winifrede!
I reached the well along a riverside meadow path and crossed a moss-covered bridge to a clearing surrounded by clouds of blackthorns and carpeted with anemones, primroses and celandines. The well was at the base of a large tree, lined with stone blocks, and the water moved gently under some overgrown leaves.
The ribbons on the tree are part of an ancient tradition. Placing a piece of clothing on the scared tree next to a well is said to help heal, the disease disappearing as the cloth slowly rots away.
Why is the Santa Tecla well here?
Saint Thecla was a follower of Saint Paul. She withstood attempted rape, repeated murderous attacks, and defied the conventions of her time by refusing marriage to live an independent spiritual life. She inspired many women. She even baptized herself by jumping into a pond of “aggressive seals” that were conveniently struck by lightning before they could eat her (or at least that’s the story, and a dramatic one at that). She is venerated primarily in the Russian and Eastern Orthodox traditions. Roman coins and offerings have been found in its well, so it is believed that its cult arrived with the Romans who conquered in the 1st century. This makes it a very old place and feels otherworldly.
More details on this interpretation board near the well.
I had some delicious hot coffee and some delicious bacon and headed down the Offas Dyke path. Thousands of people walk the entire trail each summer and it is well marked with easy access gates. The ramshackle Stiles of Wat’s Dyke forgotten.
A swamp crossing
The Offas Dyke road ascended steeply through a pine forest, along good paths carpeted with pine needles. Some mountain bikers passed by shouting “I can’t stop now.” Then I crossed the desolate moor of Llandegla along a flagged stone path. Otherwise the bogs, moss, reeds and heather would have been impassable.
I reached a small paved road and descended steeply past sheep and their adorable lambs, beneath the cliffs and crags of Eglwyseg Mountain.
Llangollen: international music city
An Eisteddfod is a Welsh festival where poets and musicians compete for honours. Most cities have one and the National Eisteddfod is held in a different location each year.
Llangollen is unique in having an annual international meeting. Musicians, dancers and singers come from all over the world to be welcomed by local families. My father took us every year to see Polish dancers from his homeland.
Even the sidewalks tell the story with their musical signs leading to the performance pavilion.
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