CHAPTER 44
The rest of the week found its pattern, each day book-ended by a ride with Mam, and punctuated with a shared lunch. I am sure I was just as vocal as Alys was, about the way my course was going, but so much of what she described sailed right past me. At least with my stuff, it was rooted in daily life, at least the sort of daily life lived by someone who lived in the middle of mountains sprinkled with lakes.

That first Tuesday involved a bit of driving in a small coach, visiting a number of sites used by the University. We drove down the Menai to the National Outdoor Centre, where Matt showed us canoes (“Kayaks, Enfys!”) and small sailing boats, explaining that the Strait itself was potentially a nasty place to be in a boat.

“These waters can be vicious, people. When we start using the centre, there will be safety boats out. Spare biccy for anyone who can tell me why the place is nasty? Lee: saw you nodding”

“Aye, I was. Like the Solent, isn’t it? One strait, ends set apart from East to West, not North to South. Tidal bulge arrives at our right, chunk of it races down the Strait, then runs into the rest of the bulge as it rounds Anglesey, which slows it down, and when that happens it leaks backwards again. That right?”

Our tutor was nodding along with Lees words.

“Absolutely. Really good example of how topology can affect safety. Tides are really important here, so always respect the medium. Water has life of its own. Once you have gained sufficient competence in a K1, we’ll have a look at the Swellies when they are running. Time to roll!”

Past Caernarfon and up to Llanberis, where there were more not-canoes, including what Matt called ‘C2s’ and ‘C4s’, as well as a collection of paddle boards, which struck me as an immensely silly way to get about. Plas Y Brenin and the twin Mymbyr lakes followed, before we worked our way through Betws and Llanrwst to Conwy, where there were what seemed like square miles of water filled with moored sailing craft. We didn’t stop long, just enough time for a few comments about learning how river currents interacted with tidal flows, and how both changed the sand bars, and then we were parking on top of the Great Orme, as everyone else was calling Y Gogarth, and Matt was pointing out the ski centre.

“Those of you who were sensible will have packed lunches with them. For the rest of you, there’s a café. We will be staying here for a little while, partly because it is lunchtime, partly because it’s a nice day and the views are great, but mainly because I intend to have a little fun. Who’s for a go on the toboggan run?”

He laughed as he said this, then waved a hand.

“Perks of this job, but this is one of two places you’ll be using for ski practice. This is purely to gather the techniques; objective dangers will be covered on the hill, especially if we get a decent fall of snow. Later stages of your studies will involve expeditions to places like the Scottish Highlands for the full-on White Nasties, and now is a good time to remind you of the importance of your logbooks. If you do anything relevant out of class, whether it is a hill walk, a bit of open-water swimming, or putting up a new E10 in Dinorwic yes I am looking at you Enfys, it needs recording. It’s not just handy for the continuous assessment part of the course, but it serves as a reminder of where you started and how you have come on”

He paused, grinned, then asked for a show of hands.

“Those who want to go on the toboggan? All of you? Good choice! Eat afterwards, rather than risk leaving it on the track!”

It was all very, very silly, but none of us ACTUALLY left the track. As we ate a rather expensive lunch in the little café, I noticed both Lee and Trav staring at me.

“What?”

Lee bit.

“E bloody 10? Where?”

“Oh, he’s joking. I’ve only just got into the Es”

“How far?”

“Um, E1, that’s all I’ve led so far”

“What on?”

“Slate”

Trev was looking at my hands.

“Enfys, you said that’s what you’ve led, aye? What about toprope, or second?”

“Oh, not much better. E4”

Lee was muttering “Oh right, ‘Not much better, only E4’, fuck me. Remember that question from yesterday?”

“Oh yes! Grit, I suppose, then slate. Not done anything on granite or limestone”

Trev nudged the other lad.

“I was right, then. You can see the old gritrash on her knuckles. Rest of your family climbers too?”

I nodded.

“Mam and Dad are. We run a bunkhouse in the hills, so I normally have someone to go out with. It’s how my parents met, actually”

Lee swallowed a bite of his sandwich.

“What, at a bunkhouse?”

“No; a climbing club”

“Your, er, your girlfriend, then? Is she a climber?”

“No, not her thing, though she does like a good walk on the tops. What do you two prefer, your speciality, ah?”

Tref went first, and to my surprise it was caving that he loved.

I found my head shaking as soon as I realised where he was going.

“No, not for me. If I fall off and get hurt, I want it to be in the open. Got a friend, man called Neil? He goes that bit further than you”

“Let me guess: cave diving? Always wanted to have a go at that”

I realised Lee’s mouth was as slack-jawed as mine.

“You’re barking, lad! In a cave? In the dark? Underwater? Sod that!”

I found myself laughing, and turned to the Geordie.

“Lee, man, as you put it, I am absolutely with you on that one! You done the scuba thing, Trev?”

“Yes. Got my… no. It’ll mean nothing to you; leave it to the lecturers. Either of you sail?”

Two heads shaking; neither of us, it seemed, and when Trev confirmed his own lack of experience with wind and water, we agreed we had something we could all improve at.

It was a bloody good day.

The bunkhouse was busy that weekend, with a few regulars making an appearance, so Alys and I were kept busy, which kept our minds off what Monday was to bring, as we had a major hurdle to cross in the shape of the Freshers’ Bazaar, a gathering of the various University clubs and societies on the hunt for fresh meat, which I had always felt was a bit of a strange way to describe people you wanted to like you. The Bazaar was set for the afternoon, and so we met up again for our midday meal before heading for the massive auditorium and our public.

That was the source of our fear, in essence. Our respective classes knew where we stood with each other, as did many of the faculty, but this was the entire uni. We had some ideas of groups we wanted to sound out, of course, and one of them was likely to offer some issues. I still had clear memories of that second-hand comment from another University, about ‘traps’ and sexual predators, and while I really wanted to fly what I now knew beyond all my possible doubts was my flag, I was worried about my lover. One hint of transphobia, and we would be away from their table. As we came to the entrance, I took her hand, along with a deep breath, and we were in.

So many stalls! Every sport known to man was there, including something called Octopush, something else called canoe polo, along with chess, cross-country running, cars, choral singing, ceilidh dancing, and those were just some of the ‘Cs’. The one I was after, of course, was ‘Climbing’, and after I had signed up, I looked at their display, which was probably the wrong way to do things, but there had been zero risk I wouldn’t sign up.

They had a lot of pictures on a large board, many of which showed some rather dated kit being used very effectively. I recognised some of the routes, including that roof climb, ‘Sloth’, from the Roaches, and ‘Dream of White Horses’, plus one or two that looked to be in the Alps or perhaps even further away. What really caught my eye was the climber pulling into the crux move on ‘Sloth’, a young woman whose pony tail was hanging down at right angles to the line of her body, as she hung upside down, face set in utter concentration.

Alys caught me up from a quick dash to the ‘Bs’.

“Not there; it’ll be under ‘O’, then”

A sniff.

“Ornithology, love, not birdwatching!”

Something had caught my eye on the Cross-Country club’s stand, which also had a huge board covered in pictures. In the middle of the spread was a photo of some old trophy celebration, a group of men and one woman holding up a cup and grinning happily. It was the same woman I had seen in the photo of ‘Sloth’. Clearly a scarily talented athlete.

The skinny man behind the table coughed.

“Looking to sign up?”

I shook my head.

“No; got too many other things to fill my time. Mountaineer, me, but I see you had someone who did both”

“What do you mean?”

“I signed on at the Climbing Club”

“Ah, to nobody’s surprise at all, from what you said!”

“Indeed. It’s just you’ve got a pic of the same person they have”

“Which one’s that, then?”

“That one. With the pony tail”

“Oh! Right! Real club legend, that one. Stevie Elliott. If, well; could have been a real international star, if things hadn’t gone… Anyway, a real star, in both clubs. You two are obviously… Sorry, but my tact reservoir is dry. If you are going to join the LGBT+ lot, look at their pics as well. And welcome to Bangor!”

He seemed a little rattled, which was odd, but we found the folk club before we found the rainbow one, and we ended up deep in discussion about instruments and tunes, and as we nattered, Jordan, the Birmingham lad from my tutorial group, turned up. I had just mentioned our one and only festival, and he laughed.

“You two go to Shrewsbury as well? Great, isn’t it!”

Alys was grinning as well.

“Yeah! Been a couple of times, meeting up with a load of friends there. Think the best bit is the Monday night”

Jordan shook his head, but not in disagreement.

“You’ll mean the session. Not the same for me. Don’t play anything, me, but it’s bloody good sing-around. Some of the musicians, though, they get a bit silly. There’s this one there every year, absolutely fruitloop, plays fiddle… Oh”

He looked at each of us in turn.

“You’re going to say she’s a mate of yours, aren’t you?”

Alys’ grin broadened.

“If the one you mean has long red hair, oh yes!”

“Shit. This where I rewind my memories to be sure I didn’t say anything really stupid”

“Apart from ‘absolutely fruitloop’, you mean?”

“Bollocks”

I put my arm over Alys’ shoulders.

“Jordan. My beloved here is teasing. Steph is one of my best friends, along with her husband, and I am reasonably sure that she would take that as a compliment, and her other half would just laugh happily”

“Oh. Thanks, I hope. Um…”

His voice dropped.

“I was hoping to see you, Enfys. I’m after a favour”

I realised he was blushing, and Alys stepped away from my arm.

“Fresh air, the three of us? Don’t worry, my friend”

“Jordan”

“I’m Alys, this one you know. But of air, then”

She led the way back outside, where the sun was still warm, and as soon as we were far enough away from other people, she took both of his hands.

“Am I right, Jordan? Your family don’t know?”

He tried to make a joke of it, but he was now shaking.

“Don’t know whether to nod or shake, do I? Yes, you’re right, I think, and no, they don’t. Don’t think they’d be happy”

Half a ton of loose change suddenly dropped, and I took one of his hands from my lover and kept hers for myself.

“Moral support, is it? Just to have someone with you when you sign up?”

Alys had a tissue for the few tears that escaped, but he found his self-control remarkably quickly.

“You two don’t mind?”

Laughter from my lover.

“Not a problem, love. Do it now, while we have a head of steam?”

He gave a much firmer nod.

“Yes. Get it done. And thanks”

We all but marched into the hall once more, and there was the rainbow flag, as well as a few others I didn’t recognise, along with the usual mix of leaflets and, yes, a big board of photographs. As Alys stepped up to the table, I went for a look at the pictures. Stevie Elliott was there, with a dark-haired woman I assumed was her partner. In the meantime, Alys was confusing the boy behind the table.

“Looking to sign up as allies, you two?”

My girl snorted.

“Nope! Me and HER want to sign up as full members or whatever you call it!”

The boy looked across at me, shaking his head.

“Sorry! See a man and a woman holding hands, assumptions, aye? I’m Drew, by the way. Something caught your eye there?”

“Yes. Saw photos on the climbing club stand, then the cross-country one, and they said I should look at yours, and here she is. Busy girl!”

“Who?”

“Lad said she’s called Stevie Elliott”

“Oh. One of the real movers and shakers of this group was Stevie. We see him back here now and again, for big events. You don’t know about him, then?”

Alys looked shocked.

“Are we talking about last century? A children’s home?”

Drew’s smile had gone.

“You’ve got it. Such courage…”

Alys took my hand.

“Not now, ah? I’ll talk her through it later. Right now, well, we are two lesbians wanting to sign up, and this is Jordan”

“Um. Hi. I’m Jordan, as she says, and can I sign up because I’m a gay man and this is the first time I’ve ever come out and I don’t know what to do!”