Waunfawr sits under Snowdonia's shoulder, the kind of place where the houses are mostly detached stone or render, the traffic is mostly sheep, and the school run doubles as a greeting round because everyone's done it for twenty years. This is a village in the strictest sense — a population you could fit in a couple of large chapel halls, spread thinly across the hillside, with the mountains doing most of the talking. There's one school here, Ysgol Waunfawr, a community primary with just over a hundred pupils — the kind of size where the head knows every child's name and probably their dog's too. Wales doesn't run Ofsted, so there's no grade to quote, but a school this size tends to live or die on reputation passed parent to parent, and that reputation is part of why families settle here rather than just retire here, even though the median age of 45 tips a little older than the Welsh average. Ten transport stops serve the village, useful for local buses, though this isn't a place built around a station platform — if you need daily rail, you're routing through somewhere larger, not from your doorstep. The crime figure will make you do a double-take: one recorded incident in the past year is a very small number, small enough that a single case (logged as violence and sexual offences) can make the mix look almost 3,700% higher than the Gwynedd rate — that's the kind of statistical trick tiny populations play, not a sign of a lawless lane. In practice, a village this size registering one incident tells you far more than any percentage does. Green space is scarce on paper, under half a hectare across two plots, but that number is almost beside the point when the actual outdoors — Snowdonia's slopes and paths — start where the garden fence ends; nobody in Waunfawr is short of somewhere to walk, they're just not council-mown parks. Day-to-day shopping and eating out means a trip out of the village rather than a stroll down a parade of restaurants — there isn't one here to speak of. On property, the picture is coherent: detached homes on freehold titles dominate the nine recent sales, with a median price around £190,000 — a touch below both the Welsh average house price and Gwynedd's own median, so a "for sale" board here reads as modest rather than aspirational, freehold and solid rather than a fixer-upper flip. Combined with a council tax band D bill close to the Welsh norm and decile-6 rankings for both income and deprivation, this lands as comfortably average for Wales — neither a bargain hunting ground nor a wealth enclave, just steady. Health outcomes score strongly against the wider grading pattern, and connectivity is the one area that lags a little behind — broadband reaches most but not all homes with full fibre, which matters if you work from that spare room with a view. This is a place for people who want mountains outside the window and don't mind driving for their nightlife, their choice of restaurant, or their train.