There I passed the night comfortably enough.

At about eight in the morning I arose, returned to the inn, breakfasted, and departed for Beth Gelert by way of Caernarvon.
It was Sunday, and I had originally intended to pass the day at Bangor, and to attend divine service twice at the Cathedral, but I found myself so very uncomfortable, owing to the crowd of interlopers, that I determined to proceed on my journey without delay; making up my mind, however, to enter the first church I should meet in which service was being performed; for it is really not good to travel on the Sunday without going into a place of worship.
The day was sunny and fiercely hot, as all the days had lately been.

In about an hour I arrived at Port Dyn Norwig: it stood on the right side of the road.

The name of this place, which I had heard from the coachman who drove my family and me to Caernarvon and Llanberis a few days before, had excited my curiosity with respect to it, as it signifies the Port of the Norway man, so I now turned aside to examine it.

"No doubt," said I to myself, "the place derives its name from the piratical Danes and Norse having resorted to it in the old time." Port Dyn Norwig seems to consist of a creek, a staithe, and about a hundred houses: a few small vessels were lying at the staithe.