Distance: 7.33 miles
Max Altitude: 78 m
Min Altitude: 12 m
Height Gain: 274 m
Height Loss: 293 m
Words cannot express how good it feels to be not only back on the trail but also back on this blog. I have spent the time since I limped off the Wales Coast Path last Monday with my feet up and on ice being looked after like a queen by Ann and Noel. I have had a professional opinion on the state of my feet, new footwear and orthotics. I am also held together almost entirely by K tape by now.
So earlier today, I hit the path where I left off…the side of the road. But I was back on the real Wales Coast Path in no time.
The path stretched out in front of me in a series of ups and downs.
My lunch stop was at the most northern point of my journey, overlooking Ynys Badrig (aka the ridiculously named Middle Mouse in English).
Not a bad view eh? Apparently St Patrick found himself shipwrecked on the little island before he swam ashore to found a nearby church. He must have been one heck of a swimmer, that’s all I can say.
After lunch I faced the steepest and most treacherous descent so far on my journey (or maybe I’ve just blocked out that switchback section of the Offa’s Dyke Path). It zig-zagged all the way down to Porth Llanlleiana, and its derelict porcelain works.
Just as I was walking across the front of the beach, I spotted a group of kayakers paddling towards the shore. I resolved that I would return to this perfect little beach in the same fashion in the future.
And of course, with every sharp descent comes the inevitable ascent. Oh dear. Better on the knees but brutal on the lungs.
Then the sight of Llanbadrig came into view, which is the church that Olympic swimmer St Patrick founded in 440AD. It’s not a particularly inspiring structure. However, what I did notice as I walked past was that passers by had stuffed flowers into the exterior wall alongside the cemetery.
I saw a bench and took that as my cue to have a sit down and elevate my feet. This is something I do every hour or so of walking.
An older woman walked past me with a Welsh border collie on a lead. I said hello and asked if she wanted to sit down. She thanked me and declined, adding that she’d been inside the church sitting down for ages and had just managed to escape. She had been there for a thirty minute talk on the history of the church with her husband which had turned into a two hour agonising lecture. When the dog got restless she’d taken that as her chance to leave, abandoning her husband inside for the sake of politeness.
My fifteen minutes were up so on I went, rounding Porth Padrig, with Llanbadrig behind me across the bay.
In no time I was in Cemaes Bay. I had an ice cream (vanilla and rum & raisin) while overlooking the harbour. It would have been rude not to.
Everywhere there were relics from Cemaes’ maritime past.
I headed out of the town and towards the imposing figure of Wylfa Nuclear Power Station. It has now been shut down but will be forever a blot on the landscape since it will not only take decades to decommission but also because another plant is going to be built practically next door.
The Wales Coast Path is currently being diverted from its usual route due to archaeological works being undertaken as part of the new nuclear development. I walked across fields and through a mini forest to try to find the alternative route but went a tad wrong. So I decided to call it a day and headed for the road, past the entrance to Wylfa.
I am happy with my day’s progress. More than seven miles and barely a sign of tendon trouble. I hope it stays that way.