This Place I Call “Home”

Nestled on the coast,
between the City and the Queen,
lies a sleepy little village —
this place I call home.

Home…
where I started in Ysgol Babanod,
tiny chairs, big dreams,
friends made in the playground,
memories stitched into the years.

I’ve walked the sands of Lavan,
felt the wind roll in from the bay.
I’ve climbed the paths of Madryn,
watched shadows stretch across the day.
I’ve sledged down Penmaen Park in winter,
fed the ducks on the Boating Lake,
thrown stones in Nant-y-Coed’s river,
each splash another memory made.

I’ve seen this village shift and change —
shops open, shops fade away —
but one thing stays,
one truth remains:
this place I call home.

I lived here with my mum,
up on Pen Dalar’s winding lane;
my grandma and grandpa
in their villa on Penmaenmawr Road;
my uncle, my nephew,
somewhere in the village’s fold —
threads of family woven
through the map of this place I hold.

And still,
through every chapter,
every step away and back again,
Llanfairfechan lives in me.
It’s more than a postcode,
more than a name.
It is pride,
it is roots,
it is where my story began.

This place I call home

means more than I can ever say.

I’ll always be proud

to stand and shout:

I’m from Llanfairfechan.