It is evidence that for many, Snowdon (1,085m) is not a mountain to be taken seriously. Anyone
can board the Victorian steam train that chugs to the summit café, where you can buy a sausage roll and an ‘I climbed Snowdon’ T-shirt. During summer, visitors in flip-flops queue to stand on the highest point in England and Wales. There are clear days when views stretch to the Isle of Man, the Wicklow Mountains in Ireland, the Lake District and (very rarely) the Scottish Lowlands.
And there are also days where you cannot see your own outstretched hand. Winter rain and fog close in as I follow the Rhyd Ddu path to Snowdon's summit. Welsh rain is legendary for its unique properties – a capacity to reverse up a trouser leg and an in-built sensor to detect when you have left your anorak or umbrella at home.
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