by Harriet Riley. A Travel Essay.
Literary Magic Among the Hedgerows
Densely packed five foot high rows of shrubs lined the road as we wound our way to our destination. Adventure awaited. These magical hedgerows led us to our home for the next few nights–a horse farm in the middle of Wales. After what seemed like miles and miles of hedgerows, we turned down a narrow lane and followed the homestay signs to Bumblebee Cottage.
The Airbnb information had a mysterious three words to lead us to the cottage. But they meant nothing as we had never heard of What3Words. This turned out to be a grid system using a set of words created to identify any place on earth, when addresses are not sufficient. The three words just added to the mystery and magic of this unknown destination
We were truly in the middle of nowhere. Wales felt ancient, out of this world. The rolling fields, tiny hamlets, primeval forests, crumbling stone ruins all signaled another universe. Add to that the road signs first in Welsh and second in English. Croeso i Gymru welcomed us to Wales. Cymudo i’r traffig ar y gwrthwyneb told us to give way to oncoming vehicles. All the consonants make the language feel otherworldly as well.

Our hostess, Liz, welcomed us to the family horse farm in Trefenion and introduced us to her daughter and granddaughter, who also live on the property. She said there was no key to the cottage because there was no reason to lock the doors. That first evening we ate at The New Gurkha Inn in nearby Talgarth. The presence of Gurkha, Nepalese men who fought for the British, only added more mystery to the place. The food – Indian-like with Nepalese spices – was delicious.
The next morning, we drove twelve miles through the hedgerows to the Hay Book Festival, the reason we were in this rural area of Great Britain. As we got closer to the site, we saw large buses lining the road and knew we had arrived. We found a parking space on this ernormous rolling field. I could spot sheep grazing nearby.

This was clearly going to be a unique book festival. Wooden sidewalks connected seven or eight big white circus-like tents. The walkways were lined with pop up stalls selling book-ish items and coffee and interesting snacks. There was also a large canteen with food trucks and an actual restaurant in a tent. Five of the large tents, complete with hardwood flooring, contained the large stages and seating for the book events.

We purchased all our tickets in advance for the actual author forums. At $16 each, we felt like this was a bargain. Over the next two days, we heard from such stellar thought leaders and writers as Micheal Mann, a leading expert on climate change and author of Our Fragile Moment; , bestselling author Jodi Picoult; Anne Enright, Booker nominated literary fiction author; former Australian prime minister Kevin Rudd; and even two delightful local amateur historians Elizabeth Bingham and Mary Morgan. We lined up on the wooden sidewalk before each event and struck up conversations with fellow booklovers, mostly from Great Britain, We all found so much in common. We quickly realized that connecting with other readers was really one of the great joys of the Hay Festival.
We had wisely made reservations at Cotto, a temporary location of the Hereford (England) Italian restaurant at the festival grounds. On the first of our two days, we had a long lunch with cider and bruschetta and gnocchi at the oasis in the middle of the ongoing action. Afterward we went to a free recording of a BBC radio show. There was a complete lineup of well known BBC radio personalities conducting live interviews. Another unexpected treat was Jodi Picoult’s presentation which was actually a “proof party” for her soon to be released book, By Any Other Name. Everyone in the audience got advance reader’s copies (ARC in publishing language) of the dual timeline novel about the question of Shakespearean authorship and so much more.
Discovering the town of Hay-On-Wye, a mere 15-minute walk away from the festival grounds was another one of the real joys of this visit. You can walk to the town on a sidewalk along the road or through a wooded path along the River Wye. However you get there, the town is a delight. Hay-On-Wye calls itself “The Town of Books.” With a population of 1,675 and about 30 bookshops (the actual number is in dispute), the so-called bookstore town has more than earned its name.
The self-proclaimed king of Hay, Richard Booth, started the book craze in 1962 when he opened his first book shop and started bringing truckloads of used books to the hamlet. Booth, always a colorful character, wore a golden crown and appointed his horse as prime minister and even declared Hay an independent country one April Fools Day. He once owned the 900-year-old Hay Castle, which is now owned by the Hay Castle Trust.
The town bordering the castle is literally crawling with book shops. So much so, that when my husband wanted to watch the FA Cup Final, we discovered there was only one real pub with a telly (television) in town. The humble bar was packed wtih football fans, a stark contrast with the festival visitors and book lovers. After about an hour in the Rose and Crown, we walked back into the winding streets of Hay-on-Wye and back to the Hay Festival where we sat out on the grassy center lawn and ended the day with an ice cream cone and a few book purchases, of course. It’s no wonder former U.S. President Bill Clinton called the event “the Woodstock for the mind.”

BIO: Harriet Riley is a New Orleans-based freelance writer focusing on creative nonfiction. She taught creative writing 11 years with Writers in the Schools Houston. Harriet also taught journalism, worked as a non-profit director and as a newspaper reporter. Harriet recently published articles in 64 Parishes and Mississippi Magazine. She has her MA in print journalism from UT Austin. She spends her free time traveling and reading fiction.
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This is so exciting — reminds me how the Everest Base Camp trek also brings people together through stories that stay with you forever. Glad Wanderlust Journal is back!
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