Siriol

It was so stormy last night that I barely slept. High winds and heavy rain battered Clark Tent. I shivered and hoped that the canvas wouldn’t give way and take off with me inside. 

Heavy rain and wind continued for the rest of the morning and afternoon. Meanwhile, I was having yet more technical issues getting the latest blog online, and becoming extremely frustrated in the process. Though perhaps this was a blessing in disguise, as otherwise, I would have got soaked dismantling the tent in the storm. Every cloud, eh? 

By mid afternoon, it had cleared up enough for me to consider making a break for it and getting on to the Wales Coast Path towards Bangor. Finally I decided against it and made the decision to do something else instead. 

As I said recently, I feel as though I often just breeze through places at high speed  instead of taking my time and learning about my surroundings. How fortunate am I to be doing this challenge! Should I not savour every moment and take in as much as possible? It seems to me that many of us walkers place too much emphasis on miles achieved under foot, and I include myself there.

So with a sense of virtue (of sorts, anyway), I doubled back on public transport, and ended up visiting the site of Deganwy Castle. 

Now, most tourists and visitors and whatnot will be more than aware of north Wales’ magnificent castles – Conwy, Caernarfon, Harlech, Criccieth, and so forth. But Deganwy Castle is almost unheard of. And why? Well, because very little of it is still standing, unlike the aforementioned. 

The two hills above Deganwy housed a fortress that was in use from at least the Roman period until its final demolition in 1277. It was the site of siege, bloodshed and destruction for centuries. 

If you want to read about it in full – and find out why it’s barely standing – then this page is a wonderful resource. It’s a shame that this castle is so overlooked in comparison to others when its history is so rich and significant. 

As well as a thrilling history, the view from the top of the west hill took my breath away. I couldn’t stop taking photos. Surely this has to be one of the most stunning views in the world…

In sum, I’m so glad that I took the decision not to walk today. Look at what I would have missed. 

Distance: 7.7 miles

Max Altitude: 62m

Min Altitude: 1m

Height Gain: 153m

Height Loss: 148m

Today was pretty uneventful. Like yesterday I decided to have a sort of half day. I had errands to do and wanted to watch the Wales team’s homecoming. Plus I’m continuing to have technical trouble when it comes to getting this blog online. Ah well…

I started walking in the evening. There were some beautiful colours on the trail.

This part of the Wales Coast Path runs side by side with the A55 mostly, sometimes the railway and sometimes road and rail. It’s noisy and busy. There is an alternative upland route which is taken in Conwy and rejoins the main path in Llanfairfechan. But I was on the lowland route.

Passing by Penmaenmawr’s skate park on the promenade, I was impressed by the street art on show.

The trail then followed a relatively new (built in 2009) pedestrian and cycle bridge above the A55. A lot of engineering had gone into this.

The view from the uppermost section of the walkway was incredible. To my right, Y Gogarth (Great Orme) and Llandudno, while to my front and slightly left, Ynys Seiriol (Puffin Island) and Ynys Môn (Anglesey).

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It didn’t take long to reach Llanfairfechan. My stopping place for the evening.

Distance: 6.43 miles

Max Altitude: 18m

Min Altitude: 2m 

Height Gain: 73m 

Height Loss: 73m

The morning weather in Deganwy was an unsettling mixture of high winds, dark clouds, fine rain, bright sunlight and mugginess. As soon as I got on the Wales Coast Path and started walking I felt clammy and uncomfortable.

The sight of Conwy Castle across the bay was impressive but I couldn’t help wondering how much better it would look  in good weather.

I crossed the river into the town next to the famous Telford Bridge.

I had already decided to spend a bit of time in the town instead of my usual thing of just passing through. I have almost always felt guilty during my trek, of not devoting enough time to getting to know unfamiliar places and breezing through. So I had chips at the Galleon.

After I finished eating, I met a couple from Nevada – Eli and Deborah – who were visiting north Wales and walking some of the path. Incredibly, he was a transplant expert and was very knowledgeable about pancreatic cancer. We spent ages chatting and it was good to hear his perspective on the disease.

We said our goodbyes and I wandered around the harbour for a while.

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The Wales Coast Path goes right along the harbour and past the smallest house in Britain. I remember visiting here when I was 9 and thinking that it wasn’t really that small.

It was time to follow the path and leave the town behind me, much as I didn’t want to. The weather had cleared up to reveal a beautiful blue sky.

A few hundred metres out of the harbour and on the path next to the marina, I saw a dog bounding around out of control with the owner nowhere to be seen. Oh no, I thought. I’m not the biggest dog fan on earth. It must have read my mind because it came running up to me a high speed and jumped right up on me. Its owner appeared and tried to call the dog away from me but it wouldn’t listen. By this time it was behind me and had bitten into my roll mat and wasn’t letting go, while I shouted at the owner to get it off me. Finally she managed to wrestle it away but I was left a bit shaken. Give me a cat any day, frankly.

The trail rounded the estuary onto Morfa Conwy, a Site of Special Scientific Interest, which is next to a golf course. I saw a sign for an area that had been fenced off in order to give a type of moth a helping hand so that it didn’t get trampled by walkers. Apparently this is the only place in Wales where the Belted Beauty moth calls home.

Opposite me was Y Gogarth (Great Orme) looking splendid under blue skies.

The water looked so inviting that I was going to have to dip my toes in.

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I walked on a bit more into the evening and then sat down for a while watching the waves. This would be a good spot to stop and pick up from tomorrow.

Distance: 10.71 miles
Max Altitude: 129m
Min Altitude: 5m
Height Gain: 265m
Height Loss: 266m

I had a late start today due to having no mobile phone signal and needing to find somewhere with wifi in order to upload my blog. As soon as I managed to get it online, I was off.  I started where I had left off on the promenade at Rhôs. Foreboding clouds billowed above me.

The first landmark I walked past was the tiny St Trillo’s Chapel, one of the smallest in the British Isles with enough seating for just six people.

In a kilometre or so, I entered Penrhyn Bay, where I could have walked along the beach had the tide been out. As it was at high tide, I was routed into a suburb, and from there got on to Little Orme, the smaller of the two headlands that flank Llandudno. Little Orme is a pretty pedestrian name but the Welsh name is utterly spectacular – Trwyn y Fuwch, which means ‘the cow’s nose’.

I walked to the edge of a cliff and saw the head of a seal bobbing below. Sadly, I didn’t manage to get him on camera.

I got a bit lost after that due to missing waymarks. But a very kind woman who was visiting her sheep (yes, really) showed me the way, and on I went down into Llandudno.

As I strode along the promenade, I marvelled at the Victorian architecture.

I headed towards the Great Orme (y Gogarth in Welsh). From a certain angle it looked like a giant sleeping crocodile. I came upon the pier and decided to sample the delights.

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When I saw this, I couldn’t resist –

It wasn’t granting wishes, so I couldn’t wish ‘to be big’. Instead, it told my fortune –

Half way down the pier I saw an ice cream vendor so in I went for a cone. Rum ‘n raisin – beautiful. As I was leaving I got dive bombed by this chancer of a seagull so had to duck to get out of the way. A few seconds later a seagull (not sure if it was the same one or if they work in gangs in these parts), swooped down on me like a pterodactyl, grabbed the cone out of my hand and flew off with it in its beak. I stood there with my mouth wide open, gobsmacked. A couple from Liverpool were sitting nearby; the woman shook her head in dismay, “Ahhh, disgusting, look at that. It’s the fourth one we’ve seen today”. I started wondering about the possibilities of disguising a hand grenade as an ice cream but remembered that (a) I don’t have a hand grenade, and (b) I’m a vegetarian.

I decided against getting a replacement ice cream on health and safety grounds. I got off the pier, still in disbelief, and started the ascent up the Great Orme with the pier and Llandudno behind me.

I needed to get a move on as my plan was to watch Wales v Portugal in Deganwy. But the ascent was making my progress slow, as was the fact that I kept stopping every 30 seconds to marvel at the view. But you can’t blame me.

I rounded the tip of the Orme and suddenly had views over to Conwy, Penmaenmawr and the eastern side of Ynys Môn (Anglesey). I looked at my watch. Time was ticking. It was a straight descent into Deganwy from here, all the way down the Orme. So I decided to jog the rest of the way in order to be there in time for kick off.

My knees coped well and I got there just in time for the anthem. And although the result didn’t go Wales’ way, I felt nothing but pride for the team. They’ve done more for our country in the past three weeks than many people realise. Together stronger.

Daeth i ben deithio byd

Ond bydol yw ein bedydd…

Distance: 7.03 miles

Max Altitude: 13 m

Min Altitude: 3 m

Height Gain: 56 m

Height Loss: 56 m

Have you ever watched one of those old Westerns where a gnarly cowboy rides into some dusty town on his horse? The ones where he’d sidle up to a saloon and sink a bourbon with his spurs clinking. He’d then make his way to the nearest barbershop where he’d have a hot towel shave with a cut throat razor. The barber would top it off by slapping cologne on him and he’d be as good as new. You know the films I mean.

Well, today, that was me. The 21st century female equivalent anyway. Yes, I went to get a manicure and a pedicure before I left Prestatyn. It was bliss. I feel like a whole new person who no longer needs somebody to set about their hands and feet with a scythe. Bliss, I tell you!

I strutted out of Prestatyn on the Wales Coast Path and headed west towards Rhyl on the concrete path between the two. It was fairly uninspiring and my mind drifted.

It didn’t take long to get to Rhyl. The first thing I spotted was the sad sight of a discarded child’s spade. Almost a metaphor for the town.

The looming clouds were looking threatening. The sight of Llandudno miles further along the coast ahead of me disappeared.

I decided to do what any normal human on Rhyl seafront would do and I sat down and got an ice cream. After my 23 miler yesterday my feet were very grateful.

I strolled along the EU-funded coastal defences and wondered if Jean Claude Juncker would be along in his bulldozer soon to tear it all down.

The next stop was Kinmel Bay. Just as I was arriving, a downpour left me scrambling for my waterproofs while I took cover underneath an abandoned penny arcade.

I continued walking towards Towyn where I was given a free pitch for the night by Henllys Farm, which was very kind of them.

Next to me was another tiny tent. I got chatting to its inhabitant, Terry, who is also in the middle of a charity trek. Terry’s Trek is raising money for Ugandan orphanages. He’s been walking the 870-mile Wales Coast Path since May 1st and will be finishing his quest back in Cardiff (which is where he also started from) this coming weekend. Terry from Pontypridd is travelling in the opposite direction to me and so how incredible it is that our paths not only crossed but that we ended up in the same campsite next to each other!

We spent the evening comparing notes about the WCP and I got some tremendous tips from Terry about what was to come. I was glad to hear that it wasn’t just me who had got lost, been dehydrated, got soaked (constantly) and had had encounters with angry bulls! 

Distance: 23 miles

Max Altitude: 22 m

Min Altitude: 1 m

Height Gain: 254 m

Height Loss: 252 m

We had been fortunate overnight in camp. Only a few light showers but mostly dry. After saying goodbye it was time to bid farewell to Eli. I was very sad to see her go.

After taking a dose of Vitamin I (ibuprofen) for my leg, I got back on the Wales Coast Path next to the Dee at Shotton. The path was flat as far as I could see so I thought I could get some decent mileage under my feet if the weather held.

Tata steel works and Connah’s Quay Power Station dominated the skyline in front. Power lines and pylons zigzagged above.

The flat walking meant that I made it to Flint in what felt like next to no time. Unlike the Offa’s Dyke Path where my progress was slowed by the relentless hills, here I was seeing the kilometres just fall away, and that encouraged me on.

I decided to leave seeing the castle for another day in order to press on. The path entered the Flint Foreshore after that. I was walking right next to the sea, sometimes on marshland. The sun beamed down upon me. 

I soon came towards the first and only mini hill of the trail section I was on, near Bagillt. There were impressive views out towards the Wirral and back to Flint but even better, a huge dragon fire beacon. 

The information board told me it had been placed there by the community in 2012 to commemorate the opening of the Wales Coast Path, following the regeneration of this particular bit of the coast at Bettisfield. 

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If I was impressed by the dragon, I was even more impressed by the sight that next lay ahead near Llanerch-y-Mor – a rusty ship covered in street art sitting aground named The Duke of Lancaster. 

It had once been a luxury passenger liner and had been brought to this location to be run as a fun ship in 1979 but the project never took off. 

Its decaying exterior has been transformed by renowned graffiti artists. If I could have gone inside to explore I would have but I was on private land.

After walking past a gas terminal at the Point-of-Ayr, the next stop was Talacre, where I couldn’t resist taking this self-portrait. Sorry.

Nearby was a decommissioned lighthouse, which was built way back in 1776. It sorely needs a lick of paint. I googled it and discovered that it had featured in a Dulux commercial a few years ago. I’d say it’s high time for them to return.

And not far from the lighthouse, I happened upon this washed up dead fish. I have no idea what it is but I’d very much like it to be a shark, even though it wasn’t exactly a great white.

With the pain in my feet now breaking beyond the capabilities of my vitamin I, I trudged past the manicured yet soulless Presthaven Sands resort and over the Gronant Dunes.

I was soon at my intended finish point for the day – the Nova Centre in Prestatyn, also the end of the Offa’s Dyke Path. I had reached this very point in a state of euphoria just a few days ago. I sat and watched the sunset for a while and contemplated my journey so far. 

My (often inaccurate) GPS app was telling me that I had walked almost 21 miles but I suspected it was farther. So I checked the distance tables on the Wales Coast Path website to discover that I had covered a fantastic 23 miles from Shotton to Prestatyn! Feeling chuffed with my longest Walking Wales distance yet, I headed towards camp for the night, with a grin that didn’t leave my face until I fell asleep.

Distance: 6.1 miles

Max Altitude: 21 m

Min Altitude: 1 m

Height Gain: 52 m

Height Loss: 45 m

I took a couple of days rest after finishing the Offa’s Dyke Path. I swam, I stretched, I ate. Bliss.

I also watched Wales beat Belgium to reach the semi finals of Euro 2016. Beyond bliss.

It was time to rejoin the path.

The Offa’s Dyke Path finished in Prestatyn. However, I needed to get to near Chester to rejoin the Wales Coast Path, having last seen it all the way back in Chepstow. I couldn’t wait.

What made it even more exciting was that my friend Eli had decided to drive all the way from London in order to walk with me. How nice it would be to have a friend to spend time with and to have a catch up.

Getting to the start of the Wales Coast Path proved to be a little more complicated than necessary. In Chepstow, the location is obvious by comparison. It’s marked out by sculptures and waymarks.

Even searching online didn’t give a conclusive answer to the northern WCP start. So after lots of googling and map consulting, we headed for Chester.

To make it easier for people having the same problem as we did, click here for a map of where you need to go to in order to join the Wales Coast Path.

The location is Sealand Rd in Chester. Find the small patch of parkland known as the Cop and follow signs to the path which hugs the River Dee. The map on the notice board at the Cop doesn’t feature the Wales Coast Path, but it is nearby! Near the river you will start to see waymarks pointing towards where the WCP starts.

After about 500 metres or so, the border between Wales and England is marked. Please somebody do something about this rather depressing sign!

Shortly afterwards, the official WCP start is marked out. It’s underwhelming in comparison to its equivalent in Chepstow.

Typically, as soon as we reached the official start, we got stuck in the heaviest downpour imaginable. In no time we were both drenched and walking in soaking wet shoes. Familiar for me, but not Eli. In about 20 minutes, it eased off, fortunately.

The path is long and extremely straight. You can see for miles ahead. The storm passed to reveal a stunning skyline over this albeit mostly industrial man made landscape.

We could see the Airbus factory to the side of us and Connah’s Quay Power Station way up ahead. In stark comparison, we saw a small bird of prey hovering near the path before it divebombed to capture a vole and then flew off with it.

We reached a blue girder bridge at Garden City. My left quadricep started to give off its familiar twanging pains. 

It was late evening so between one thing and another, we decided to call it a day and get to camp.