As another archaeological dig is about to start on the site of Brynkir Hall in Gwynedd, I reminisce about my adventure of finding Brynkir.
I had managed to track down the location to a wooded site on the edge of the Snowdonia National Park. I remember scratching my head before I entered the overgrown wilderness, thinking ‘I know it’s somewhere in there, but where?’ I made my way through the trees, clambering over branches and pushing twigs out of my way. A wrong turn led me up a hill and my instinct was to turn back. I did so and after another minute a grey structure started emerging from the trees and ferns. I had a huge grin growing on my face as I pushed back the last few branches and found myself standing in front of the hall. Of all the houses I have visited, Brynkir filled me with such wonder, due to its hidden location and the fact that no one knows who the owner is. As I wandered round the building I inspected the precarious state of the remaining walls. The huge granite blocks balancing as if they could fall at any moment. The jumbled lay out of the building showed the different stages/ additions of the house. On investigating the internal lay out there was no easy way I could tell what the function of the rooms were, as now the house is just piles of stone with saplings pushing their way through, reclaiming the land and slowly removing the traces of man.
Brynkir is a place I remember with fondness.
It is a house that has been left to drift into unconsciousness in a beautiful part of the Welsh countryside.