In the heart of Machynlleth, a picturesque market town in Powys, Wales, a debate has been quietly chiming away—quite literally—over the fate of its beloved town clock. This 150-year-old clock, standing tall in the town square, has become the focus of an unexpectedly passionate dispute between local business owners and the town council, highlighting the delicate balance between heritage and hospitality.
Earlier this summer, Huw Morgan, co-owner of the Wynnstay Hotel, submitted a proposal to the Machynlleth Town Council. His request? To silence the clock’s chimes between midnight and 7:00 BST. Morgan explained that his hotel, which he has run with his partner Gail Jenkins for the past 18 months, had received regular complaints from guests about the clock’s persistent chimes—every fifteen minutes, through the day and night. In some cases, the noise was so bothersome that guests had to be moved to different rooms, a logistical headache for any hotelier.
"The clock is so important to the town, a tourist attraction, and as a local I love the clock, but I do believe it is a reasonable request to ask for the clock to be silenced during the night," Morgan told the BBC. He added, "My feeling is that the council didn't give this issue the discussion or attention that it needed." For Morgan, the proposal was about striking a balance: preserving a cherished landmark while also ensuring visitors could get a good night’s sleep.
But the town council saw things differently. The clock, they argued, wasn’t just a timepiece—it was a symbol, a heartbeat, a part of Machynlleth’s very character. In a meeting at the end of July 2025, councillors discussed the issue and ultimately decided to reject Morgan’s proposal. The minutes from that meeting made their position clear: the clock’s chiming was "part of the character of the town." No further comment was offered by the council when approached by reporters.
The decision comes on the heels of a significant investment: just last year, the council spent £55,000 to restore the iconic clock, marking its 150th anniversary. For many in the community, the restoration was a point of pride. The clock’s foundation stone was originally laid in 1874, funded by the townspeople themselves to celebrate the coming of age of the eldest son of the Fifth Marquess of Londonderry, who lived at the historic Y Plas estate. Over the decades, the clock has weathered campaigns for preservation and periods of silence when time, quite literally, stood still in Machynlleth. Its recent restoration was seen as a victory for local heritage.
Still, the issue is far from settled. Morgan, though disappointed, is not ready to give up. Under council rules, he must now wait six months before submitting another proposal. In the meantime, he’s considering his options. "Moving forward, we've got several options including collecting the opinion of people and businesses near the clock," he said. However, he acknowledged a potential legal hurdle: "From a legal point, the noise pollution laws are usually used by residents rather than businesses so that is an issue for us."
The controversy has sparked a range of reactions among locals and visitors. Some residents, perhaps accustomed to the clock’s song, are unfazed. One local told the BBC, "I don't really notice it and filter it out, but I do appreciate that maybe for people who are staying here and who are not used to it that it might stand out." Another property owner, whose eight flats face the clock tower, was more blunt: "I've got eight flats facing the clock tower and no-one complains, it's part of the town. But you can't please everyone can you?"
Visitors, too, have weighed in. One woman, who has been coming to Machynlleth with her family for the past 16 years, only recently realized the clock was working again. "I have noticed that it's [chiming] more often, but it's not too often. But we wouldn't usually notice at night as we stay just outside of town," she remarked. For her, the chimes are little more than a quaint detail—hardly a dealbreaker for her annual visit.
Yet for others, especially those unaccustomed to the clock’s persistent reminders of the passing hours, the noise can be jarring. It’s a classic case of one person’s tradition being another’s nuisance. The debate has also highlighted a broader tension faced by many historic towns: how to preserve the unique character and heritage that draws tourists in the first place, while also accommodating the needs and comforts of those same visitors.
Machynlleth’s clock is more than just a mechanism of gears and bells. It’s a living symbol of community spirit. The people of Machynlleth raised the original funds for its construction, and generations have rallied to preserve it. The 2024 restoration, a hefty financial undertaking for a small town, was a testament to that enduring commitment. For many, silencing the clock—even for a few hours—would be tantamount to muting a piece of their collective identity.
On the other hand, the hospitality industry is a lifeblood for Machynlleth’s economy. Tourists come for the town’s charm, its history, and, yes, even its quirky clock. But if sleepless nights become the norm, business owners like Morgan worry that word will spread and bookings will drop off. It’s a tough spot: should the town prioritize its traditions or adapt to the needs of its guests?
As the clock continues to chime every fifteen minutes, day and night, the debate is likely to persist. For now, Morgan and Jenkins will have to manage guest complaints as best they can, perhaps by offering earplugs or strategic room assignments. The town council, meanwhile, stands firm in its decision, at least for the next six months.
As one resident put it, "It's just background noise." Yet for Machynlleth, the sound of the clock is anything but: it’s a reminder of the town’s past, a marker of its present, and, perhaps, a signpost for the ongoing conversation about what it means to balance history with hospitality. Whether the chimes will ever fall silent remains to be seen, but for now, Machynlleth’s clock keeps ticking—and talking.
