One of the most striking things about the Ty Newydd writing centre is the silence and darkness at night. Light pollution is minimal and the whitewashed stone walls are so think that even a lively breeze rustling the surrounding trees is inaudible once I’m tucked up in my room in Hafoty, the old stable block. So after a demanding but satisfying day of workshops, walking, eating, socialising, reading and possibly even a little writing, nothing keeps me from sleep. Until the rude awaking of the fire alarm.
Taking into account deterioration of various joints, it’s rare nowadays for me to apply to myself the cliché “leaping out of bed”, but this is literally what I do. Instinct kicks in and the combined ear-splitting wail and flashing light bombardment has me out of the door in seconds, slipping into a pair of handy shoes and grabbing my jacket from the hook on the door in one fluid movement.Continue Reading