Rhododendrons

I've always liked that word - don't know why - it just rolls around your mouth and off the tongue really well.
Driving through Beddgelert on our way to the cliffs of Tremadog we saw the hillside covered in this fantastic display - aware that the weather forecast meant that blipping opportunities would be few and far between a quick u-turn and blip achieved.

One of the climbing clubs I'm a member of is just in the final stages of building a climbing hut just outside Beddgelert village - so this should become a familiar site over the next few years. In anticipation of telling it a few times in the future; here is the legend of Gelert:

In the 13th century Llewelyn, prince of North Wales, had a palace at Beddgelert. One day he went hunting without Gelert, ‘The Faithful Hound’, who was unaccountably absent.
On Llewelyn's return the truant, stained and smeared with blood, joyfully sprang to meet his master. The prince alarmed hastened to find his son, and saw the infant's cot empty, the bedclothes and floor covered with blood.
The frantic father plunged his sword into the hound's side, thinking it had killed his heir. The dog's dying yell was answered by a child's cry.
Llewelyn searched and discovered his boy unharmed, but nearby lay the body of a mighty wolf which Gelert had slain. The prince filled with remorse is said never to have smiled again. He buried Gelert here, and his tombstone is a shoe in for a future blip...