From Launchpad to Landscape: How Llanbedr Dodged the Rocket and Wales Dodged the Empire

THIS PROJECT PREDICTS AND PLANS FOR THE FUTURES OF THOUSANDS OF CITIES AND TOWNS WORLDWIDE. THIS WEEK, WE HIGHLIGHT THE "FUTURE HISTORY" OF THE WELSH SETTLEMENT OF LLANBEDR, AS IT LURCHES TOWARD "GREEN MOUNTAIN UTOPIANISM" BY THE YEAR 2121 AD.

Llanbedr has been proposed as the site for Britian's first spaceport. However, by 2121, Llanbedr’s most spectacular claim to fame is not as the site of a bustling spaceport, but as the epicenter of a proudly rebellious, green-hearted, and wonderfully independent Wales.

Nestled between crag and cloud, Llanbedr in Snowdonia was once slated by the likes of Elon Musk, Jeff Bezos and Richard Branson, to host Wales’ leap into the cosmos. But rather than becoming the next Cape Canaveral (or more likely, a glorified drone pad for billionaires with planetary midlife crises), Llanbedr became the jewel of a sustainable future—a decision both ecologically sound and politically cheeky.

Back in the early 21st century, the world teetered on the brink of eco-disaster and tech megalomania. Spaceports sprouted like mushrooms across Britain’s periphery, including the incongruously idyllic fields near Llanbedr. The idea was to bring jobs, innovation, and a sliver of galactic glory. But Wales, being Wales, politely declined the invitation to become a launchpad for Elon Musk’s increasingly imperial Space Empire, which by mid-century resembled less NASA and more a Bond villain’s playground—complete with Martian mansions and lunar tax havens.

Instead, Wales remembered its roots. And its mountains. And its sheep. Just before the launchpad becomes operational -- the nation abandons the unwieldy rockets to the misty Welsh rains, letting them rust away slowly in the mystical landscape.

The turning point came in the late 2060s, during what historians now call the “Green Awakening.” With the British government selling off land, rivers, and air to the highest techno-feudal bidder, the Welsh Assembly finally said na fi di! and initiated its independence. What followed was a slow but determined movement to reclaim both land and narrative. Enter Snowdonia—or, as it was rebranded in the 2070s: Parc Eco-Cenedlaethol Eryri, the Eco-National Park of the Welsh Nation.

The Llanbedr airstrip was decommissioned, its tarmac composted (using an experimental lichen-moss process), and the area was transformed into a center for renewable energy experimentation. Floating wind turbines were installed off the coast, linked via subterranean cables to discreet solar-microgrid cooperatives throughout the valleys. Hydrogen-fueled mountain trams, disguised to look like 19th-century locomotives, quietly chugged along scenic routes for locals and eco-tourists alike. The only thing launched from Llanbedr after 2080 were seed-balloons and birds of prey.

Wales’ refusal to join the Muskian galactic exodus was underpinned by the work of Wales' growing community of eco-futurist sheep-farmers, who had warned that space colonization was a “dead-end distraction for a broken planet.” These farmers argued, quite persuasively (and with charts), that pouring billions into escaping Earth was like spending your last paycheck on a submarine made of cheese because your house is on fire. Instead, they advocated for turning Earth itself—its cities, its farms, its mountains—into places worth staying in.

Welsh independence didn’t just mean a new flag (though that part was admittedly cool—black dragon on green and gold, breathing wind turbines instead of fire); it meant a new ethic. A pact between the people, the land, and the future. Llanbedr became a symbol of that choice: to stay grounded rather than reaching for stars owned by someone else.

By 2121, Wales stands as one of the world’s foremost eco-republics. Its energy is homegrown, its governance democratic and localised, and its cultural exports—poetry, permaculture, and particularly funky techno-folk—are in high demand. Meanwhile, the Musk Empire is reportedly at war with a Saturnian mining syndicate, and nobody in Llanbedr cares.

After all, who needs Mars when you’ve got Snowdonia?