Today at about 1.15 p.m. marks the 200th anniversary of the laying of the Jubilee Tower's foundation stone. Yesterday marked the celebration. Our hearts go out to those who missed that celebration—but for those present, they enjoyed a memorable occasion
With the spontaneous & appreciative roar of applause still resounding after the last glow of the fireworks, several thousand spectators turned en masse to leave the Jubilee Tower on Moel Famau. There was no starting pistol; cold from the wind, it just happened. There followed a most remarkable evening trail of torches and lanterns amid the darkness that, from the Vale beneath, would've looked like a giant snaking conga dancing its way along the ridge to the Bwlch.
There, wind-chilled passengers again queued patiently for their buses home, like all but the early birds had done that afternoon, in the opposite direction. Whereas they staggered their journey up, they all wanted to leave at about the same time. The numbers using the park & ride shuttles were considerable. So successful was the occasion that how could the organisers have possibly planned for what was about double the numbers anticipated? Not enough advertising beforehand, said some. It would seem that the advertising worked *very* well! Leaving the site took time but no more than trying to get out of traffic clogged Anfield or Alton Towers.
Of course, had the weather been less kind, nothing more than a couple of taxis would've been required. As it was, the full incoming buses that afternoon had to battle their way from Tafarn y Gelyn against motorists who gave no quarter, some desperate having been turned away from the summit car parks. There was a report of a collision between car and bus. The police prudently shut the road to anyone other than celebrities or buses.
The clamber up to the summit was no less spectacular than the walk down. Here were all ages and all abilities. There were keen mountaineer types, with the appropriate uniform of outdoor wear. There were others who'd arrived in little more than a fleece and trainers. It took two hours for the ragged line to climb to the top, as some started as early as 3.45. Why, though, did others decide to leave at half time so to speak, heading back into the westering sun? They missed a fireworks display of a lifetime and just being there among the thousands who'd congregated for the special occasion. I lost count of the acquaintances and non-acquaintances to whom I spoke. The atmosphere was convivial and conducive to conversation with anyone who listened.
Though it didn't look like it from the top, I'd say there were nearer 4,000 than the predicted 2,000. Upon arrival, another queue awaited them, for teas, coffees and soup, care of Caffi Florence.
It was interesting how no one really noticed the lighting of the vertical beam. The clear conditions weren't conducive to it being readily visible, at first. As dusk approached then darkness fell, so the beacon grew stronger. Alas, the lasers only worked at their best when the not inconsiderable smoke of the fireworks crossed their paths. This was because the clouds were few.
The organisers will have been pleased with the turnout and the patience of the public. Good humour all round. When we celebrate the 400th anniversary in 2210, what changes might Xuberance, the organisers, consider? Well, what about closing the Bwlch Penbarras entirely, to *all* traffic other than buses? This would give the opportunity to provide more of them, though larger ones would probably be out of the question, because of turning and passing. Or perhaps our mode of travel in 200 years will be teleportation straight to the top, just like on Star Trek.
One thing’s for sure, those present in 2210 will recall accounts of the celebrations not just in 1810 but 2010, the day the thousands went up Moel Famau to see a light spectacular and to join together to witness something that defines who we are: the Jubilee Tower that gives presence to the hills above us. Our thanks to the organisers for a memorable event.
With the spontaneous & appreciative roar of applause still resounding after the last glow of the fireworks, several thousand spectators turned en masse to leave the Jubilee Tower on Moel Famau. There was no starting pistol; cold from the wind, it just happened. There followed a most remarkable evening trail of torches and lanterns amid the darkness that, from the Vale beneath, would've looked like a giant snaking conga dancing its way along the ridge to the Bwlch.
There, wind-chilled passengers again queued patiently for their buses home, like all but the early birds had done that afternoon, in the opposite direction. Whereas they staggered their journey up, they all wanted to leave at about the same time. The numbers using the park & ride shuttles were considerable. So successful was the occasion that how could the organisers have possibly planned for what was about double the numbers anticipated? Not enough advertising beforehand, said some. It would seem that the advertising worked *very* well! Leaving the site took time but no more than trying to get out of traffic clogged Anfield or Alton Towers.
Of course, had the weather been less kind, nothing more than a couple of taxis would've been required. As it was, the full incoming buses that afternoon had to battle their way from Tafarn y Gelyn against motorists who gave no quarter, some desperate having been turned away from the summit car parks. There was a report of a collision between car and bus. The police prudently shut the road to anyone other than celebrities or buses.The clamber up to the summit was no less spectacular than the walk down. Here were all ages and all abilities. There were keen mountaineer types, with the appropriate uniform of outdoor wear. There were others who'd arrived in little more than a fleece and trainers. It took two hours for the ragged line to climb to the top, as some started as early as 3.45. Why, though, did others decide to leave at half time so to speak, heading back into the westering sun? They missed a fireworks display of a lifetime and just being there among the thousands who'd congregated for the special occasion. I lost count of the acquaintances and non-acquaintances to whom I spoke. The atmosphere was convivial and conducive to conversation with anyone who listened.
Though it didn't look like it from the top, I'd say there were nearer 4,000 than the predicted 2,000. Upon arrival, another queue awaited them, for teas, coffees and soup, care of Caffi Florence.It was interesting how no one really noticed the lighting of the vertical beam. The clear conditions weren't conducive to it being readily visible, at first. As dusk approached then darkness fell, so the beacon grew stronger. Alas, the lasers only worked at their best when the not inconsiderable smoke of the fireworks crossed their paths. This was because the clouds were few.
The organisers will have been pleased with the turnout and the patience of the public. Good humour all round. When we celebrate the 400th anniversary in 2210, what changes might Xuberance, the organisers, consider? Well, what about closing the Bwlch Penbarras entirely, to *all* traffic other than buses? This would give the opportunity to provide more of them, though larger ones would probably be out of the question, because of turning and passing. Or perhaps our mode of travel in 200 years will be teleportation straight to the top, just like on Star Trek.
One thing’s for sure, those present in 2210 will recall accounts of the celebrations not just in 1810 but 2010, the day the thousands went up Moel Famau to see a light spectacular and to join together to witness something that defines who we are: the Jubilee Tower that gives presence to the hills above us. Our thanks to the organisers for a memorable event.