The Dark Tower
The Welsh Mountains are still
a favourite destination of mine, as I explore the many various locations that
the Welsh countryside has to offer, whether it is on lonely mountain ridge or
moorland that is very rarely visited by the average visitor to this beautiful,
but mysterious country, or a day at the seaside taking in the sea air. During my late teens I would
often spend a weekend up around the little village of Harlech with either
friends or family. We would spend the day exploring the area around the region
and the evenings in local pubs enjoying the hospitality of the local residents
and holiday makers, walking from the campsite to the Queens Head at the bottom
of Harlech, we would then venture up to The Castle hotel at the top in front of
the actual castle. Before returning to the campsite, the night would end at the
Red Lion, a small quaint old pub right at the very top of Harlech.
These cold grey towers are linked
by high stone battlements. Below the battlements are the first defence lines of
the castle, these lower battlements are perched on the western side on top of precipice
cliffs that drop down to what was seven hundred years ago the coastal waters.
Down the southern end of the cliffs a serious of stone steps have been cut into
the rock, the steps defended by a wall on the outer side lead down to what was
a small harbour for ships supplying the castle from the sea. Its massive gate house
facing the only weak point of the castle towers over the small village of
Harlech.
On the approach to Harlech from
the north as the coast road turns the corner giving a clear view along the
coast, a cold dark grey structure appears against the sky as a dark silhouette
perched on a precipice of rock above the Cambrian coast. Snowdon to the north,
Rhiniogs to the east and the sea to the west only the south had a manageable
approach along the coastal plain. Seen against the early morning bright sky its
silhouette dark and brooding makes the heart shudder at the sight of this
magnificent monument. One could imagine the castles at their peak with hoards
of knights on the battlements hurling arrows, spears and rocks at the army
attacking them. The castle would have seen throughout its history its fair
share of death destruction and misery. As a child visiting the
castle every tower had to be climbed and every tunnel had to be explored. Never in all the visits to the castle have I ever experienced anything but pure fascination and joy at what the castle has to offer, accept once!! I was about eighteen years
old and enjoying one of those normal enjoyable bank holidays we had so much fun
on in my late teens. A couple of friends had joined my brothers and I on a trip
camping in the fields below the castle. We had a thoroughly great night the
night before spending the evenings at the local pubs. The next day, not having
a lot to do we decided to wonder around the old castle. Entering the castle
from the gatehouse over the wooden bridge we all split up to explore the
castle. Having visited the castle many times before and not really that
bothered about climbing hundred of stone steps up to the top of the towers I
made my way over to the western side of the castle overlooking the sea. Sitting
on a wooden bench and enjoying the warm sun making my face tingle and body
relaxed, I was more than happy to take in the beautiful surroundings and views
across the ocean. After a while and now feeling
a little warm I strolled back into the shade of the castle. I then walked over
to the drum tower on the south that overlooks out towards the sea. The strange
thing was the castle appeared at this point deserted; I looked for the others
and assumed they were elsewhere in the castle. The drum tower on this corner is
roofless and devoid of all floors and furniture. In a nut shell, derelict.
I explained to him what I had
experienced and to his credit he took it seriously. I then said I have to go back in and see if it what had happened would happen again, it didn’t; the tower was once again empty and derelict with the sky clearly visible through the top. What had made me feel absolute terror was now gone.
About thirty years or so later I was spending a week in Harlech at a holiday cottage with my wife and daughter. It was late September and we had been up Betws-y-Coed doing some walking along the swallow falls. As a treat and to save us having to cook, we booked a table at the castle restaurant. Being late autumn with dark evenings my daughter with the fascination of a child, asked the waitress if the castle had any ghost stories. The waitress accounted a story of a lady in white who had lived in the castle hundreds of years ago. Apparently this lady had either been waiting for her loved one to return or been separated from him. Anyway in total despair she had thrown herself off the tower and down on to the rocks below. The lady it is alleged haunts the tower in great sadness and despair. I quietly asked which tower and she replied that it was the tower that juts out towards the sea. I had never mentioned the incident I had experienced to anyone until that day and even now it’s not an experience I still like to think about. There was no reason why what happened, happened. I was in a great mood that day, perfectly relaxed and I wasn't aware of anything sinister or strange about the castle. It was a very strange unexplained event. I have returned to the castle a few times since but I never again had to endure that strange eerie experience.
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Harlech castle has to have
one of the most perfect positions for a castle, it’s every schoolboys vision of
what a castle should be, perched magnificently on a high crag of rock overlooking
the Cambrian bay, with the deep blue ocean in front and the dark welsh
mountains behind it, large drum towers built of dark grey stone on every
corner, topped with flags fluttering in the wind. The castle dominates the
local surroundings in every direction. 
The castle is straight out of
a child’s story book telling of days gone by. Tales of knights and fair
maidens, sieges and battles dominate the history of Harlech right up to the end
of the English civil war during the mid 1600s.
It was a beautiful day
without a breath of wind and I felt absolutely relaxed by the afternoon sun and
feeling quite hot. 
On entering the tower the
first thing that hit me was the darkness, looking up I could not see the sky, I
knew this wasn’t right because the tower was roofless. It was a strange
darkness, a darkness you could see through but not see anything that you knew
should be there, a world of living nightmares, which you can’t wake up from. 
We left the castle and
carried on with our weekend as if nothing had happened, I had no thought of
trying to relive the moment ever again, and in fact I hardly ever mentioned it
to anyone.
