My first book event ever was the second UK Indie Lit Fest in 2017. I went on my own, listened to some readings and bought a lot of books, but struggled to interact much with the authors. I had planned to attend the first one, but couldn’t get there due to family health issues.
The third annual Lit Fest took place on Saturday 28th July. This year I took my granddaughter, Shanice, who enjoys reading and we both had a fabulous day. We left home at 8am and arrived back, with our bags full of books, bookmarks and other swag, twelve hours later.
The UK Indie Lit Fest is a FREE Book Event but there was the option to download a free ticket, which acted as a raffle ticket. I couldn’t have been more shocked, and delighted, (and yes, embarrassingly, I squeaked quite loudly!) to hear my name read out as the winner. I was given a signed copy of The Case of The Curious Client by T G Campbell and the choice of any book available at the event.
After looking round for the umpteenth time, I decided, eventually, to get Shanice her own copy of K S Marsden’s The Lost Soul. I was going to lend her my copy, but she couldn’t promise not to crack the spine. 😉
From left to right Pete Singh leader of the #IndieArmy volunteers, Directors Chris Turnbull, Rose English and Joe Kipling. At the back Nick Singh representing the sponsors IngramSpark, then Shanice and me, and last but not least, Dawn Singh the main Director and the brains behind the event.
I bought Shanice two other books that she was interested in reading (The Storm Creature-Maria Gibbs & Transfixed-Bella Rose), and the wonderful author, Rose English generously gave her her own copy of the Fantasy Snowflakes Coloring Book by J. S. Burke.
Shanice and her books.
My own book haul was slighty larger than Shanices’ and included a few that I knew I was going to buy before I set off. These were:
I added a few books from a couple of authors that I’d bought books from last year:
I also bought a few other books to my bag, after chatting with the ‘new -to-me’ authors:
Although the author wasn’t at the event I also picked up, from Rose English’ table:
Thank you to all the awesome authors who took the time to put me at ease and make me feel not quite as awkward as I usually do with people.
I never take enough photos, but the following are a few videos from the day.
A poem from Rainbows and Roses, read by the author, Rose English.
The newly formed Tombe Independent Dance Company performing a piece choreographed and written especially for the UK Indie Lit Fest based on the popular series of books, the Mortal Instruments, written by Cassandra Clare.
A 360 view of the UK Indie Lit Fest 2018
A brief tour of the UK Indie Lit Fest 2018- disturbed by Shanice.
For more info and photos from this years event, past and future events visit
So we made it to the top, all we had to do now was walk back down and get home. Sounds easy, doesn’t it? Only one problem, my legs were made from jelly and refused to follow the instructions my brain was sending to them!
The lead groups had been at the summit for around an hour by the time we arrived, so we slowcoaches only had time for a brief stop at the top, before we were headed back down the mountain.
I could say I walked down the mountain, but in reality, I shuffled, stumbled, and tripped, my way down. It was, however, more enjoyable than the climb. The path was still rocky and uneven, the steps were still ‘cliff steps’ and I had to use my controlled descent more than once, but it was much easier than going up!
Another bonus was that I could see for miles around and take in the magnificent views that we’d missed in the darkness of the ascent. The set groups and guides that were necessary on the way up were no longer needed and we mingled on the way down, at a more relaxed pace and with a carefree attitude.
We couldn’t help but chuckle as we passed others who were climbing, knowing how they must be feeling. We wished them luck and they congratulated us. It was a great feeling, to know, that despite the pain and struggles, and almost giving up 3 or 4 times, I had actually achieved my goal!
As the village came into view, I could see tarmac in the distance and figured it couldn’t be far now. I made the mistake of mentioning it to Zoe, you can hear her reaction, a bit further down when she spotted how far away it was, in the following clip. You also get a look at one of the steps.
As we drew closer to the end of the gravel path, I decided to joke that I wasn’t going any further, to which Zoe laughingly replied that the only other way off the mountain was for me to break my leg and call Mountain Rescue for an air ambulance.
I answered that challenge in a spectacular way… lol
My foot caught on a rock that was partially buried in the ground and…. yep, down I went! Obviously I didn’t see it, but from what I’ve been told, I believe the gif to the left is a fair representation of my fall.
Once I’d recovered from the shock, and started laughing, I was helped up by a couple of other walkers, one of whom told Zoe not to mention Mountain Rescue or air ambulance again!
My knees were painful, my forehead was a bit sore, my glasses and camera were scratched, and I was covered from head to toe in dust.
I hobbled down the rest of the path until we reached the tarmac where the ‘honest’ guide was waiting for me. News travels fast, even on a mountain. He checked that I was ok and didn’t need a ride to either a hospital, or the village, then chatted to us as we walked down the steep hill to the main road.
And no, I didn’t dislike him anymore, he was ok 🙂
Thankfully, when we reached the ‘square’ at the side of the Mountain Railway Station, there were only the guides waiting, all the other walkers had headed off. It was nice to be able to thank Alex, and the others, properly and to say goodbye.
Zoe and I headed back into the village, and breakfast (*brecwast) at the Padarn Hotel. Given the state I was in, I considered myself lucky they allowed us through the door. We sat in the garden at the back of the hotel and enjoyed a well-deserved coffee and bacon butty!
A trip to the souvenir shop by the Mountain Railway, for a welsh dragon or two, was followed by a taxi ride back to Bognor and the first of three trains back to Lancaster. The journey home was uneventful, apart from limping stiffly on and off the trains. We tried not to fall asleep and therefore miss our stops, but I think both of us caught 40 winks from time to time. We finally arrived home sometime in the afternoon… tired and dishevelled but still buzzing from our achievement!
We got together with the guides, Jonny, Keith, Alex and Ian, plus the 40+ other walkers in our group, we all had our head torches on, a yellow glow stick attached to each backpack, and at 12:30am we set off!
Llanberis Path is the longest and most gradual of the six main paths to the summit of Snowdon and offers fantastic views. Originally, tourists were carried up this path on ponies and mules, and to this day it continues to be a pony path.
Distance: 9 miles (there and back)
Total Climb: 975m (3,199ft)
Time: Approx 6 hours (there and back)
The lead set a fairly quick pace as we headed along the road past the Snowdon Mountain Railway Station, along a side street and then over a cattle grid, at which point the road began to climb, getting steadily steeper.
We’d only been walking about 10 or 15 minutes and I was trying to keep up with the pace, but struggling to catch my breath. I was panicking, seeing stars and felt as though I was going to pass out. I knew, at that point, that I was completely unprepared and there was no way I was ever going to make it to the summit. Zoe kept me going by slowing our pace and talking to me until we reached a less steep part. The shallower incline gave me time to get my breathing under control and although I still didn’t think I’d reach the top, I made the decision to continue as far as I could.
That was just the beginning!
The tarmac gave way to gravel and rocks, and the incline varied between ‘not too bad’ and horrendous. Thankfully, we stopped for our first break and were split into smaller groups, with Zoe and I in the small final group. Our guide was missing at the time, as he’d had to take one of the walkers back down, so I was given the job of ‘backstop’ and told not to let anyone fall behind me. (I could easily walk slower than everyone else, so that was fine by me 😉 ) And then we were off again.
Our guide, Alex, caught up with us during the next leg of the journey, which consisted of more stony paths strewn with rocks. Even with our head torches, we couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of us. At least now I could breathe… well most of the time! But by now my legs were aching, and once again I thought it was nearly time for me to call it a day.
Our next stop was at the Halfway House, which I found out later is a small cafe, but at that time of night was deserted. It was here that I took a complete, albeit unfair, dislike to one of the guides. Our slow group, or #Teamshit as we had aptly named ourselves, needed encouragement and hope. What we got from this particular guide was honesty…
“So far the climb has been gentle, but after the steps it’s going to get worse.” I can’t say those were his exact words, but that was the gist of it. I do remember telling him that his interpretation of gentle was hugely different to mine. We were the last to arrive and our break was much shorter than those who got there first, as we all set off again at the same time.
We gradually fell further and further behind the lead groups. To start with we could see a line of white and yellow lights stretching away from us up the mountainside. I was much happier when they disappeared from view and could no longer see how steep the climb was going to be.
Alex was a great guide, he was young and enthusiastic, and kept us all going with encouragement and advice. The other girls in our group were friendly and we had a good laugh with them… when we were capable of laughing!
Let me take a moment here to talk about those ‘steps’ the guide mentioned. They were NOT steps, they were large, uneven rocks, in a vaguely step-like formation. The steps varied from a few inches high to over a foot in height. We called these higher one cliff steps!
I struggled on up that bloody mountain on legs that felt like jelly, at a speed a tortoise would have been ashamed of.
Zoe and I got into a rhythm, we would walk for a while at a slightly quicker pace than the rest of the group, find a good sized rock to sit on and wait for the others to catch up, then do it all again. These mini-breaks gave my legs time to work in short bursts until my next rest stop. Watching me sit at each stop gave the rest of the group a laugh, as I could only lower myself down so far, after which I landed with a bump. I called it a controlled descent, but in reality every time I went to sit down I fell on my butt! I wouldn’t advise this method of sitting to thin people, but it worked for me ‘cos I have padding on my bum. There was one time when I missed the rock I was aiming for and ended up sitting on the grass between two rocks!
It was starting to get lighter as we passed under the railway bridge and as we took off our head torches, we were able to take in the spectacular views for the first time. By 4am, with sunrise only 40 minutes, it looked unlikely that we would reach the summit before sunrise. Alex certainly didn’t seem hopeful when Zoe asked him whether we would get there in time. By then I didn’t really care about the sunrise, I just wanted to make it to the top, but I knew Zoe would be disappointed if she didn’t make it, so I was determined to try my hardest.
It wasn’t long after, that we got our first glimpse of the summit, and I don’t know how, whether it was the awe-inspiring views or just sheer bloody-mindedness but we made it up that last part of the mountain to the steps leading up to the summit a lot quicker than I ever thought possible, and we were suddenly at the bottom of a stone built pillar with steps leading up each side of it. This for me was the scariest part of the climb… I really don’t like heights and these steps were exposed, no railings, nothing. I’m not ashamed to admit I went up those steps on my hands and knees, but I got to the top.
The climb up Snowdon (*Yr Wyddfa) has got to be one of the hardest things I have ever done, but…
We did it!! I did it!!
To be continued…