We sat around the lounge as usual in our holiday house in North Wales for the final morning meeting and prayers. As it happens, the sun was shining and the prospects for the day looked bright. We had been staying in Snowdonia for two weeks as the Mill Grove family has done each summer for over thirty years, and the time had come to reflect on the highlights of the fortnight in our customary fashion. Everyone knew what to expect: we would go round the circle giving each person, whatever age, the opportunity to share what had been most special about the holiday for them.
I only wish that I could recollect the exact words used and everything that was shared. But here is what I can recall. One teenager rejoiced that at long last (a wait of nearly two years for appropriate weather) she had finally completed the whole of the Carneddau range of mountains: a whaleback ridge linking seven summits. This meant that she had now climbed all of the peaks above 3,000 feet in North Wales. To mark this achievement a book that she had chosen had been placed in our little local library in the bookcase in the front room. (Due to gusting winds and rain I can vouch for the fact that it was not an easy traverse, and route-finding had been tricky especially on the plateau of Carnedd Llewellyn.)
The next person spoke of the midday barbecue that we had enjoyed on Black Rock sands when we cooked the eight Mackerel we had caught the day before while sailing to Criccieth. (We had lemon juice to enhance the flavour of the fish, and improved some sandwiches by toasting them. We rounded the meal off with barbecued marshmallows.) One or two spoke of the night that we bivouacked on the beach following another barbecue. It was a fine night, and we sang for an hour or so around the fire before turning in. In the morning we breakfasted on fresh fish, sausages, burgers and jam tarts, some were fishing and others swimming.
A youngster who has cerebral palsy spoke of the friendship and support of two young men who had been alongside him throughout the holiday. They were always alert to his needs and sensitive to his feelings and contributions. (For the record these companions had come to Mill Grove some years ago as children: they were not formal helpers.)
The youngest member of the group was so excited that he talked about several things, but I gained the impression that what thrilled him most was playing in the beach cricket match for a silver trophy called “The Grains”. We didn’t win this year, but he was voted Man of the Match and there is impressive film footage for him to show his grandchildren in years to come!
One of the experiences the children all enjoyed was being part of what we call “squads”. These groups have responsibility for preparing breakfast, buying a newspaper, making early morning tea and waking everyone up. There were some very creative ideas for breakfasts including extensive menus, freshly picked blackberries, cheese on toast as well as all sorts of variations on cooked English breakfasts.
One boy spoke of the day when we walked up Cwm Bychan and stopped for lunch at a disused copper mine. The heavens opened at this point and there was a pretty intense thunder storm, but although we lacked overhead protection he noticed that the party remained happy all through.
And the last member of the group, the youngest of a family of four simply talked of “the stars”: meaning the night when we slept out under them and one of the group identified several constellations, and saw at least ten shooting stars as well as the vast arching canopy of the Milky Way.
Other experiences that may have been mentioned (but which certainly gave lots of pleasure) were pony-trekking, swimming in pools and waterfalls, practising rock climbing with a 50-metre low-level traverse on the beach, and on the slopes of Cym Morthin; a treasure hunt that took everyone to Beaumaris via Criccieth, Groeslon, Caernarvon and Bangor University; fishing and shrimping; evening games of “Brag” (it has less polite names which encapsulate just how frustrating a card game it is); a game of “Botcha” using French boules on the harbourside at Porthmadog; kite-flying; collecting slate and then using it for painting and etching; “Mystery Trips/Chips” including one where we visited five different chip shops to compare the quality of their products; canoeing, sailing and playing on a sailboard; making human shapes in the sand; walking to Portmeirion and having a game of “Sardines” in this idyllic Italianate village; collecting slate, stones, shells and berries and making miniature representations of North Wales with them; reading a chapter of Prince Caspian, one of the Narnia stories, each evening…
You’ve probably got the idea by now. There were about thirty-five of us staying for at least part of the fortnight from the age of four years upwards, and we were all part of what we normally call the “Mill Grove extended family”. If it sounds like a magical time together, almost too good to be true, I would find it hard to disagree. So given that it’s an extension of the life of the Mill Grove community that exists to care for and support children and families in need, how has it been possible to create a context for such extraordinary exploration and fun?
My feeling is that you can’t easily replicate this sort of experience because it takes time to mature. It’s an intergenerational process which can’t be short-circuited. But here are some the essential ingredients: a natural environment full of variety and rich in culture and history; leaders who love Snowdonia and are at home in every part of it including mountains, rivers, forests and sea; accommodation that is homely and flexible; good equipment coupled with local knowledge; careful attention to weather and tides; plenty of resource information including good maps and charts; sailing dinghies and canoes; wetsuits; sports gear; an in-tune guitar and music; plenty of paper and crayons, colour pencils and paint brushes, and a sense of belonging and community in which everyone is valued.
Patterns, rhythms and traditions are vital and these have emerged over the years with the youngsters helping to identify their preferences. And you need space to play, listen and explore without pressure, so no television, video games, game boys, radios, computers or mobile phones. (One of the knock-on effects of this embargo on electronic equipment is the fact that this column could only be written after the holiday and therefore within hours of the publication deadline on the web!) You also need people with lots of experience of the natural environment, and clear authority that allows them to take acceptable risks, and make sensible and informed judgements on the spot. And there has to be time to reflect on what is happening individually and collectively.
As I’ve been part of the whole process from the very start, and present for every holiday in North Wales it’s impossible for me to step aside and be objective about it, but I wonder whether there is another core element: a faith community that sees each individual biography (however chequered), human history and the whole of creation linked by a common pulse?
Obviously it can’t be proved one way or the other, but as I ponder the time when we gathered around the embers of a camp fire and sang “In the stars His handiwork I see”, and “I walk with you my children…to touch you and assure you it’s my world you’re walking through”, or the morning prayer times when we followed the theme of children in the Bible each day, and prayed for our families and world, I am not sure what alternative there is for creating such a unity of wonder and togetherness.
Beside me as I write are the scrapbooks which constitute the diary of the holiday done by the children themselves. They are part of a collection going back over forty years of holidays in North Wales, Devon, Scotland and Essex: a mine of information for anyone intent on reflecting on what makes our summer holidays in Snowdonia not only so remarkably enjoyable and attractive, but also part of a process of self-discovery, personal development and healing.