Mensa has an annual weekend in March at Portmeirion in North Wales and Andy Farrell suggested on the Ramsig list that it might be fun to go along, mixing sightseeing at Portmeirion on the Saturday with some walking in Snowdonia or the Lleyn peninsula coast on Sunday.

On Friday afternoon I followed Andy's directions to our accommodation. Trouble! Turn right when you see the floating restaurant in the marina at Caernarvon and go through the archway in the city walls. Fine, except the floating restaurant had floated to its winter mooring and wasn't in the marina at all! A friendly blue-eyed Welshman was much amused and re-directed me. Having parked up, I strolled around the town and met Andy and Liz on the swing bridge over the harbour, where we watched a boat pass through and skilfully avoided being adopted by an escaping toddler.

By teatime there were four of us at Totters backpackers hostel, Caernarfon. Andy F, Liz E, Stephen N and myself. This excellent establishment cost £9.50 per night for a bed in a small dormitory and as much breakfast as we could eat. We got a warm welcome, the place was spotless and the showers hot. Steve and I self catered for our evening meal, consigning the pots and pans to the dishwasher before accompanying Andy and Liz while they devoured a KFC and chocolate muffin each. Then back to Totters for a cosy evening round the huge refectory table where we quaffed a bottle or two. The highlight (!?) of the evening was Steve's rendition of Jerusalem, don’t ask me why he tried to sing it, but it seemed the thing to do at the time.

On Saturday morning the mist lifted by 9 o'clock leaving a grey, overcast sky. We shared a car for the half hour drive over to Portmeirion, paid our £4.50 day ticket, and proceeded to find some Mensans to annoy. We soon found Jackie L, another Ramsigger, who welcomed us into her villa with a cup of tea, coffee or something stronger in a glass! Susan L, Alan F and Ann T joined us for a walk around the village to take in the atmosphere. Then one of the security staff escorted us to the camera obscura which is in a tower on the seashore. It had 2-way adjustment so we could see 360 degrees round the bay and up and down the cliffs too. The mechanism survived our visit despite Steve's attempts to over-twiddle the knobs. (gave his titanium nuts a break).

Photo: View over Portmeirion showing tower of camera obscura (40k)

Back to Jackie's villa where she laid on a splendid lunch including fresh salmon (steamed in her dishwasher!) and blinis with Greek yoghurt and honey.

In the afternoon we left Alan to watch the Rugby in peace and split into two groups. The really relaxed ones strolled around Portmeirion enjoying the Italianate architecture before indulging themselves in the icecream parlour. Jackie, Steve and myself had a little more energy although the air was soporific and went for an afternoon walk through the village and out to the headland. By now the sun was shining and it was tee-shirt weather, wonderful for mid-March. We had panoramic views across the bay to Porthmadoc and up to the peaks of Snowdonia. The tide was out and we could see where Ralph and Christine had drawn their initials in the sands, visible from half a mile away!

At five o’clock we said our goodbyes having had a lovely day in Portmeirion, a captivating place locked in its own special world. Joined by Sue Lord the four of us drove across the bridge over the swirling waters of Menai Strait to the small town of Menai Bridge on Anglesey where we had arranged to meet the local Mensans, unoff listees, Dewi and Gareth, and Helen who had driven up the 60 miles from Llangollen to be with us. A local smoking Mensan, Tom, also made his presence felt. After the rendezvous in the pub we paid a visit to the local Tandoori restaurant where the food was excellent and the conversation flowed along with the drink. Tired out from all the hilarity we were all tucked up in our bunks back at Totters by midnight. Sunday dawned much like Saturday, grey and overcast with a low cloud base. Steve set off early complete with titanium nuts and other assorted clanking metal objects to do something really challenging on/with/to a mountain, Bristly Ridge on Glyder Fach, in the company of Roy H who was driving over for the day from Cheshire.

The rest of us eased our way into a slothful Sunday eventually driving down the coast to Morfa Nefyn. Andy hadn't been there since he was a slip of a lad, a mere decade or so ago, but still remembered that there was a pub on the beach only accessible on foot (or private road). We parked in the cliff top car park and strolled the long mile along the cliffs and through the golf course to the beach. The colours of the rocks, beach and vegetation were muted blending with the slaty grey of the sea. The weather was grey and windless and the atmosphere in the semi-enclosed bay was very peaceful and hushed. Even the local dogwalkers were calling their undisciplined canines quietly.

Andy and I left Liz and Sue to explore the beach while we stepped it out onto the headland, before all meeting at the beach-side pub for a snack lunch. We walked back along the beach to the car park picking up beautiful pebbles to decorate Liz's bathroom en route. Once back to Caernarfon in mid afternoon, we split and headed for our respective homes, sparing a passing thought for Steve still busy assaulting his mountain.

It was a super weekend, not at all the tough hiking climbing part of Ramsig, just great to be outdoors in a very scenic part of Britain.