Two adults please.
Grey-blue twinkling eyes greeted me and asked if we’d visited a model village before.
I explained that I used to live near one in Southport and had been taken there several times as a child. Nostalgic eyes smiled as he referred to as a particularly special collection, which he had visited on numerous occasions too.
We discussed various locations where fine villages could be found before the smile-wrinkles appeared again. With a mischievous grin, he asked if we would like to complete the treasure hunt. Yes please!
Walking round the from the ticket booth to be given directions, we were joined by a lean man who we estimated to be in his mid-sixties, dressed in tidy blue engineer’s overalls. Just one small smudge of grease on the front.
With muted pride he advised the best route and told us to watch out for the two model trains which ran at regular intervals.
We set off on our adventure, duly noting our answers on the quiz sheet. At the end of the route we were met by someone who introduced himself as the second in command.
The boss has gone to work on a spare motor for the windmill. He’s a perfectionist you know.
We enquired as to whether he had built the village. Yes, from scratch. And the trains. He used to be a cabinet-maker and couldn’t settle into retirement, so bought the land and created the village.
All by himself?
Yes. Pretty much. At the same time he renovated an out building which is now a holiday let.
Looking back at the village we were given an insight into the soul of its creator.
The paths were clean and free from weeds, as were the colourful flower beds which surrounded each tableau.
A lot of thought had gone into the character of each setting, right down to the contrast between the music playing from some. High Church of England hymns in the steepled church, quieter and more melodic praise from the Chapel of St Mary, while candy flossed barrel organ melodies rang out from the fair.
There was a pleasantly childish sense of humour in some of the signs, in Llangefni High Street you could visit from “Dan Druff’s Hair Salon”.
There was a keen eye to detail in the scale and architecture of the buildings, all based on local landmarks and surroundings. It was clear that he was as passionate about living on Anglesey as he was about his work.
And yet he was humble. Did he deliberately step into the workshop to avoid praise at the end of our visit?
We were surprised to hear that he was over seventy, and that he had decided to sell the enterprise. This could be our last visit to one man’s miniature Anglesey.
We hoped that someone would take it on and continue in the spirit that it was created, but if you read the original post relating to our visit, we also wondered whether this type of attraction is still popular.
Ref: Writing101, Day 6 Prompt “Who’s the most interesting person (or people) you’ve met this year?”