THE TRANSMISSION GALLERY
|Photos by Bill Wright||Page last updated: 2014-01-16|
|Receives from SSW, transmits to bayed logs just S of E and just E of S. Ynys-Pennal went into service on 25th September 1984.|
Normally the transmitter hunter faces a climb to reach his goal. In this case it was downhill all the way. The site is down in the valley of the River Dovey, almost on the salt marsh. To reach it we bumped along a mile and a half of very difficult road, meeting a man who was doing something agricultural on the verge. He jumped into the road to stop us and asked rather aggressively, “Do you know where you’re going?”
I replied tersely, but sweetly, “TV mast.” He surveyed our van, festooned as it is with vaguely techy-looking things.
|“Oh, that’s alright I suppose. You can go on. But go to the left at the fork. Do not, I repeat, DO NOT go over the grid.”|
“Righto.” An interesting exchange to have on the Queen’s Highway, I thought. After a nightmare devil’s elbow the road ended with a precipitous drop down to a farmyard. The transmitter could be seen in the distance, but in front of us was a locked gate, and as we stopped six mangy hounds came out to eat our tyres. The notice on the gate warned of a further dog – a bit superfluous I thought in view of the yowling mob already surrounding us.
At this point I should mention that, when planning this trip, I’d wondered why the majority of the transmitters along this part of the Welsh coast had been ‘done’ by MB21 scouts), leaving just a few strangely, and maybe suspiciously, undone. I was beginning to wonder if maybe everyone else had more sense than me. Like the other ‘undone’ sites, this one looked perfectly fine on the map.
I picked up my camera, which alarmed Hil. “You’re never getting out?”
“Yeah, why not?” I said, affecting nonchalance. Outside the yelping and howling seemed to intensify in anticipation of best English rump.
“Well rather you than me,” said Hil, reaching for her camera. “Does this do video?”
|I put a handful of digestive biscuits in my pocket and jumped down onto the gravel, waving biscuits like talismans. Strangely, the slavering mob immediately drew back, tails between legs, not at all interested in the prospect of eating either the biscuits or me, so I ate a biscuit myself. I vaulted the gate and set off towards the site, meeting the farmer as he came from behind a steaming heap of something obnoxious. |
“Oh hello! I just need to get a few shots of the TV mast if that’s alright.”
“Yes, no problem. Hope the dogs didn’t bother you.”
|So finally I arrived at the site. I’d been wondering about the whys and wherefores of it and now I was there I was none the wiser. The immediate area is called ‘Ynys’ and the nearest village is Pannal, but there’s a big hill between the village and the site, so the obvious name derivation is wrong. As far as I could see the site serves the area on the other side of the river, but there’s little habitation there. In general the Machynlleth relay serves the area adequately.|
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