Just the word “Aberystwyth” conjures up the image of Celtic mystery. Nobody knows how to pronounce the name; nobody know where the town is situated. Perhaps the only “town” deserving of this epithet in mid-Wales, it’s at least a three hour drive from anywhere resembling a major city: if travelling from London, it’s generally quicker to reach the Mediterranean. By rail, it’s the terminus of a single spur, spitting off from the already little-trafficked Cambrian Coast line. It’s very much end of the journey, and worthy for that alone.