Having found myself in the apparent wilderness of North Wales on a rainy spring weekend, I decided to entertain myself by taking a tour around two things that this part of the world does best – castles and pubs.

The coast of North Wales is covered in castles, built by King Edward in the 13th century after he invaded to keep the marauding Celts at bay. The English are still coming here today, but this time in the guise of holiday makers, braving the beaches and castle ruins despite the rain.

I started by brief tour in the seaside village of Beaumaris, where the castle is now virtually ruined, and hung around inside the walls, watching panicky parents trying to stop their toddlers running off the edge of the battlements. Fortunately, the castle was positioned right next the Old Bull's Head, so I ducked inside for a drink and a plate of grilled reindeer burgers. On the walls they had pictures of Charles Dickens, who apparently stayed here when he was a reporter on the Times, covering a massive shipwreck off the coast. After a few more hard stares from the locals I decided to move on, give the local 'Childhood Memories' museum a miss, and head to Caernarfon.

Caernarfon was a much better castle than Beaumaris's. For a start, there were actual rooms within the walls, and a few exhibits on the castles history. As well as an English stronghold against various Welsh rebellions, the castle also took the royalist side in the English civil war and most recently was the place that Prince Charles was crowned as the Prince of Wales.

The pubs, though, weren't that great. Eventually I found a place called Cofi Roc, which was a sort of coffee shop by day and a bar by night, full of tourists in the late afternoon, when there's nothing to do but drink mugs of tea watch music videos on giant screens with the sound turned down.

After that, I got back into hot hatch and took the road south, heading for the west coast, keeping the cloud-covered Snowdonia mountain range on my left. Castle number three was going to be Harlech castle – the last of the day – and the town sounded like a good place to finish the day with a beer and some decent food.

I could see the castle itself from miles away, as it stood on what looked like a cliff, overlooking the town below. It turns out that it was a cliff, but the sand dunes had built up in front of it over the centuries, pushing the sea back from it. Harlech had the best views, although the perfectly manicured golf course that had been built in the middle of the dunes did spoil the rustic quality a bit.

That night I retired to the Lion Hotel in the centre of Harlech for a few beers and kangaroo steaks (there appeared to be a trend for unusual pub menus).

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