"The National Eisteddfod will be the first time lots of the local people will ever have been onto the estate. There should have been lots more occasions for people to come here than there were, though it was open for certain events. We opened the gardens for charity and the Boy Scouts used to come here sometimes.

It was always possible to hold events on the estate if you asked, but there was no real imagination behind it, especially if you think of so many other large estates in Britain at the time doing rock concerts and such. My father rather hoped there could be a wildlife park here, like Longleat in Wiltshire. I remember going there to see Mr Chipperfield and he came up here to see us, but he wasn't interested in having either a circus or a wildlife park as it was too far off the beaten track, which is extremely insulting and he was wrong. It's since proved to be one of the most popular tourist areas in the country.

When I was first here, all the lodges were locked and you had to hoot the horn and they'd come out and unlock them, but my mother got that stopped and in theory you could wander in and out if you wanted to, but I'm sure local people didn't feel they could come in - and with a series of fierce gamekeepers on the look-out for poachers, it was pretty forbidding stuff.

That seven mile wall around the estate is very forbidding too, very 'keep out', which I think was the message when it was originally built.

I wish there was more stuff like the Bryn Terfel concerts going on. It's wonderful that a man of his stature uses the Vaynol for his festival. I long to go - I love singing and I love opera, and I know many that have been here and enjoyed it so it's absolutely on the agenda.

It's a house that should be full of activity, fun and energy. It always was. The Vaynol had a reputation for being the house of conviviality and happiness. Then there was that long period after my father died when nothing much was going on, but now it seems to me that there's some sort of direction for the future.

My father died in 1980 when I was 30. I left home when I went to college in Bristol when I was 19, but came back for holidays, though less and less during the 1970s.

I went away to school in London then boarding school in various places. People of my background did that then. In hindsight it looks a bit cruel and barbaric, but it made the holidays all the nicer to have this to come back to.

My mother came from a large family in Anglesey, her brother still lives there. Her sister also lived quite near and they both had children my age and when the rest of the family came in the holidays it was busy. In the 1950s and early 60s it was always full of children and at its best. The house needs that. It hasn't got that now. It's a house that welcomes children and it would be great to have more family events here.

This room was the library and there was a wonderful desk to write at in the window and chairs round the fireplace. It was a very quiet room and I spent a lot of time in here, reading the good books. There was always good energy here, never any tension like there was in the white and gold drawing room.

There were also roses outside the window. Ann, who worked in the gardens, was just telling us how she'd have to go round with weedkiller and salt to kill all the weeds - it was immaculate. But I rather like it quite overgrown, a little chaotic.

It's been lovely and enchanting to have this reunion. I knew all these people when I was a child and they were so important to me. It is great to see Derek in particular. His parents, George and Mrs Randall, are still alive, living in Menai Bridge. They brought me up, saved my life when I was a child. George the chauffeur was the most wonderful, kind, sweet, generous and funny man - we all adored George.

I went to the Old Hall yesterday and it was a great sadness. It's one of the greatest Elizabethan houses in the whole of Wales. It was a terrible failure on somebody's part that it was allowed to get in that state.

I saw the Restoration programme and made all my friends watch and vote for it too. If there was any way I could have cheated so it would have won, I would have indulged it, but what can one say? It's tragic.

It's got worse since. I remember the most wonderful plasterwork with delicate engraving, but it's all gone. The downstairs is one of the best rooms in Wales. But I can't get on my high horse because my father and grandfather have got to take most of the blame.

The problem was, until our day, that period wasn't very fashionable. The 18th century and onwards was considered worth saving and anything before that was seen as pre-historic - you patched it up a bit but it didn't really matter.

I hardly ever went into it when I was a child because we didn't live there. It was lived in first by Mr Harrison, the farm manager and his family and I went there for tea with a boy called Jeffrey who was my age. Then Mr Humphreys, his successor, then Ray [Williams] and finally David Gladstone, the agent of the estate, and his family.

I think it was always falling to pieces, I don't think any money was ever being spent on it and I think that was rather shameful.

It's a perfect enclave, a compound with the walled garden and the chapel, a world unto itself. It used to have the most wonderful topiary hedges and the gardens of the old house were the most beautifully designed late 16th century gardens. It's a place of great beauty, but is it just going to be allowed to deteriorate further?

I often come back to this part of the world to stay with my uncle and aunt on Anglesey. My favourite place is Llyn Dywarchen. It's the most magical place in the world. It's unlike anywhere. I think of it as a perfect place to go for peace, to meditate and to see Snowdon.

I had been back to the estate quite often to walk around and it was so sad, desolate and empty. It's pointless having 1,000 acres with nothing going on - just bits being sold off to make some quick bucks, not constructive, and I'd like to think that has ended now."