Siriol

Distance: 5.5 miles

Max Altitude: 74 m

Min Altitude: 14 m

Height Gain: 182 m

Height Loss: 123 m

I am writing this blog with my feet elevated and with more than a little frustration, as I’m on enforced rest due to the ongoing injury to the tendons in my feet. 

However, let’s go back to the start of the day. 

Over scrambled eggs on toast, I got chatting to a very friendly couple from Solihull, Sue and John, who are on their first visit to Ynys Môn. They were interested in the Welsh language and in where to visit. It was nice to have company over food. After breakfast, they were kind enough to drop me off at my start point for the day, Porth Amlwch. 

The day was already warm, with the sun beating down. Not a cloud was in the sky. Perfect!

After being without a signal, I managed to find a nearby park bench which had three whole bars of 3G. Delight! I got on my way before midday, with everything uploaded. 

I had to find my way out of Amlwch on the Wales Coast Path, across a playing field and through industrial areas. These friendly horses came to greet me as I ambled past their paddock.

The terrain soon changed, and the Wales Coast Path suddenly resembled somewhere in the Mediterranean. I found myself stopping every few metres to just stare. 

https://instagram.com/p/BIAGxEaBbzz/

I arrived in to Porth Llechog, so named because it provides good shelter. In English, it’s known as Bull Bay, but what an ugly title that is.

Back in the distance was Porth Amlwch. 

It was a glorious day above me. Nothing could wipe the smile off my face. Nothing except the narrow kissing gates which left me jammed and helpless like an upturned turtle. I cursed my enormous rucksack.

I continued and made my way past the various coves and bays which followed Porth Llechog, still stopping every few metres to marvel at the beauty of it all.

All along, the pain in my foot was increasing. I took some Vitamin I and tried to put it out of my mind. 

I spotted the ideal lunch stop on the cliff edge. There wasn’t a soul around. Just me and my food.

I could have stayed there in the sun all day long but forced myself to get on my way after I’d finished eating. The pain in my foot was greater than the strength of the Vitamin I. 

I heard a chug chug in the distance and stopped to look. A fishing vessel pootled around the bay below me. Seagulls followed behind. I thought of Eric Cantona.

I hobbled onwards and rounded the headland. I was greeted by a structure which looked like ruins from the Byzantine era from a distance. 

It’s actually a disused Victorian brickworks. 

I badly wanted to explore the site further but the pain in my left foot was too great and I was forced to sit down, leaning against my rucksack. I checked my pack and I only had 500ml of water left. 

I had two choices in such hot weather – carry on somehow on my bad foot and find a water source, or quit walking and call it a day. I didn’t want to give up but the sensible part of me told me I had no choice. I could barely stand on my foot for one thing, plus the need to keep hydrated was paramount.

So, I found the nearest road and that was that. 

Again, the sensible part of me tells me I need to rest my foot and let it regain strength. But the other part of me is angry with myself and wants to get back on the trail no matter what. 

What will happen is a compromise. I’ll rest for a couple of days, ice my foot, compress it and strap it up. And then I’ll get back on the Wales Coast Path.

I may not get to the end of the journey in lightning time but I will get there in the end. 

Distance: 8.01 miles

Max Altitude: 83 m

Min Altitude: 1 m

Height Gain: 262 m

Height Loss: 269 m

Having had problems finding a signal in order to upload yesterday’s blog, I didn’t get underway until the afternoon. Not ideal but there we go.

First job was to cross Afon Goch and get to the other side of the estuary. 

The tide was out so I decided to walk along the estuary bed rather than take the high route of the Wales Coast Path. There were many things to be seen including several boat wrecks stuck in the sand. 

I came onto the shore. Once again I decided to navigate the beach rather than take the path on the cliff edge. I’ve never seen a beach so filled with shells. The colours popped in every direction I looked.

 

I crunched along the shore and finally made my way up onto the cliff to rejoin the path. From there I had a fantastic view of Ynys Dulas, a tiny island not far from shore. Upon the island is a  structure. I wondered what it was and found that it had been built in 1821 to store food and provide shelter for shipwrecked seamen.

All the way, I kept looking back to see the trace of Eryri (Snowdonia) behind me in the distance.

There were many ups and downs on this section. It was deceptively tiring. I was lucky to have a nice breeze on me.

As I rounded the headland I could see he lighthouse at Llaneilian. It was a significant landmark on my map and meant that I was leaving the eastern side of Ynys Môn and starting to move along its northern shores. In English it’s known as Point Lynas Lighthouse, but in Welsh we call it Goleudy Trwyn y Balog.

I didn’t have time to go and explore the lighthouse fully unfortunately. But I’ve learnt that it’s up for sale, not that I have more than £1million at my disposal!

Shortly after that point, I said a very sad farewell to Y Gogarth (Great Orme). It had been in my view – either in front of me, to the side of me, underneath me or behind me – for almost a week. It was a landmark against which I was able to judge my speed and position. I was sorry to see it disappear from my eyeline. 

I wasn’t expecting to arrive at a holy well but that I did. St Eilian’s well to be precise. There didn’t seem to be much water left inside but there is a small statue of the man himself nearby.

The ups and downs were taking their toll on my already damaged feet. As well as the undulating terrain, it was also very craggy with steep steps rather than a discernible path. So I was rather glad to see signs of buildings in the distance.

I was arriving into Amlwch Port.

https://instagram.com/p/BH-nxHfhUCT/

This was my stopping point for the evening. I was hungry and looking forward to getting to sleep.

—–

Incidentally, I need to say a big thank you to Lia at The Pilot Boat for sponsoring me. Very kind indeed. And another thank you to Terry Baker for his continued help. Diolch yn fawr!

Distance: 8.13 miles

Max Altitude: 57 m

Min Altitude: 1 m

Height Gain: 195 m

Height Loss: 195 m

This walking lark can be an odd business. Sometimes despite making zero effort, the kilometres fall away and before you know it, you’re 15km further along the path. Other times, it’s a slog and a centimetre by centimetre affair. It’s without any explanation but today was mostly the latter.

I started, as ever, from where I had left off. I was between Benllech and Traeth Bychan high above the sea. The Wales Coast Path in this section is covered in dense foliage. For about two kilometres I fought my way through the undergrowth like an explorer in the Amazon. I had the same old machete yearning that I often get in these situations. You think I’m exaggerating?

I arrived at the edge of Traeth Bychan. The path went across the cliff edge, but since the tide was out I thought I’d just walk across the beach.

Needing a boost, I had a banana milkshake at the nearby cafe and then got on my way again. I should have taken a photo of this wondrous milkshake but I was too busy slurping it down. 

Energised, I walked on towards Moelfre. There had been a landslide there recently so the Wales Coast Path had been rerouted. So I walked across the rocks towards the town. The colours were almost unreal. 

I didn’t stop in Moelfre but continued along the coast.

I arrived at Moelfre Lifeboat Station and the memorial to the Royal Charter disaster of 1859. 

Nearby is also a statue dedicated to former lifeboat coxswain, Dic Evans, who helped save the lives of those onboard the Hindlea almost 100 years to the day after the Royal Charter disaster.

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Heading towards Traeth Lligwy, I landed at Bryn Wylfa, a look out point with a sculpture to mark the spot.

The earlier overcast day had cleared to reveal cheery blue skies, which made Traeth Lligwy look even more stunning.

Not long after, the Wales Coast a Path was diverted inland to avoid an estuary. I decided to call it a day near The Pilot Boat pub.

I should mention that during this entire time, my mobile signal was non-existent. The previous evening, when I had a signal, I had messaged Terry from Terry’s Trek and told him about the £36 tent pitch. Unbeknownst to me during my communications blackout, Terry had been hard at work organising a pitch for the night for me. What a star! 

And so it was that I ended up at Tyddyn Isaf. This is a well-appointed caravan and camping park which sits just above Traeth Lligwy, just north of Moelfre. I received a tremendous welcome from the family, and a complimentary pitch for the evening. I am so grateful and can’t recommend this place highly enough. Diolch yn fawr! 

With Clark Tent set up I virtually passed out with this as my view –

Distance: 6.7 miles

Max Altitude: 33 m

Min Altitude: 3 m

Height Gain: 98 m

Height Loss: 79 m

Today’s walk started after midday and a morning of rain and wind. Yesterday’s blue skies were now today’s grey storm clouds.
Traeth Coch looked a different beach from yesterday.

The area was soggy marshland and the path followed a series of duckboards which led onto the sea wall. There were a series of passing points on the wall, since it was so narrow, and on each one I passed I noticed that somebody had made shell offerings. What a nice touch. 

It was dry when I started walking but just as I got off the sea wall, a fine intermittent rain began falling. It was enough to make me tuck my phone into my waterproof pocket, which meant no photos. 

It got heavier and heavier until I was all zipped up inside my waterproofs, with just enough of a gap in my hood for my eyes to peep out of. On and on I trudged in the wet, over sand, mud and rocks. I saw nobody. 

Finally I rounded Traeth Coch and reached The Ship Inn. Salvation!

I went inside, had coffee, made good use of the driers in the toilet as well as their wifi, since my mobile signal had long since vanished. 

I got chatting to two couples in the pub. They were staying locally. They quizzed me about my trek and told me some of their own tales. 

After a second coffee the weather had cleared up enough for me to consider going outside again. My clothes and shoes were dry so off I went again after I’d said my goodbyes. Indeed, a blue sky and evening sunshine had appeared. Relief.

I walked around Trwyn Dwlban and Traeth Benllech stretched out in front of me. 

The path was set back from the beach and went through woodland. At times it reminded me of the Inca Trail. 

I reached the front at Benllech. I noticed these little Wales Coast Path ceramic pavement waymarks for the first time since Chepstow.  

Most of the time on Ynys Môn though, I’m following the Anglesey Coast Path waymarks whose logo look like this –

Above Benllech, the path got pretty wild. Lots of it had been repaired quite recently it seemed. I’m guessing that much of it was due to coastal erosion. I looked back at the view of where I’d been once more.

I found a decent campsite, practically on the cliff edge. Earlier I had enquired at another only to be told that it would be £36 to pitch Clark Tent. Thanks but no thanks!

I hadn’t made as much progress as planned because of my feet but I’m not going to be too hard on myself. Every step counts. 

 

Distance: 8.7 miles

Max Altitude: 120 m

Min Altitude: 2 m

Height Gain: 243 m

Height Loss: 263 m

Today’s start point was the bus stop where I’d finished yesterday, near Penmon. Quite a fitting location considering I was dropped off having had yet another night’s fantastic sleep in a bed (a bed!). 

It couldn’t have been a more perfect day’s weather for walking, for me anyway. The sky was blue and the sun was beating down. There was a sharp wind to provide coolness. Conditions were ideal and I almost revelled in it as I got underway and aimed for the water’s edge. 

I looked across to the mainland. I scanned from left to right, from Y Gogarth (Great Orme) across to the cliffs at Penmaenmawr. I could hardly believe that just a few days earlier I had walked across there. 

The next landmark was Penmon Priory. St Seiriol (almost me, but not quite) founded a monastery here in the 6th century, which was later reorganised in the 13th century. 

I took a look inside the church too. 

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Nearby was a dovecote built by the rich Bulkeley family of Biwmares in the 1600, who converted the Priory into a home after the Dissolution. 

It has around 930 nesting holes. 

If there’s one thing I enjoy, it’s a good lighthouse. And I knew there was a beaut coming up at Trwyn Ddu (which means ‘black nose’). And it really didn’t disappoint. I mean, look at it –

I spent a good hour here just marvelling at the view and declaring it to be total perfection across social media. That’s Ynys Seiriol on the right side of the photo, also known as Puffin Island. St Seiriol established a hermitage there after he abandoned the priory up the road. The brown rat was accidentally introduced to the island at one point, which led to the puffin population being decimated. But a rat poisoning programme has seen puffin numbers increase again. 

Much as I didn’t want to move on, I had to. The Wales Coast Path was routed inland. I kept looking back at the view every few metres until I almost couldn’t see it at all. 

I walked through fields and up roads. Occasionally I could see the sea to my right. This continued for several miles. I didn’t see a soul. But I did see this sheep with rather a desperate itch –

https://instagram.com/p/BH2868Eh6YO/

I eventually reached a vantage point much further on where I could look back and see Ynys Seiriol with Y Gogarth tucked in behind it. 

Looking ahead gave me my first view of Traeth Coch (Red Wharf Bay) in the distance. This is where I was headed.

And Traeth Coch was to be my stopping point for the day. On I went following the waymarks, which had all been present and correct throughout the day. I even thought to myself how lucky I’d been not to have been lost considering the path had gone inland. And so it was Sod’s Law that almost at that very point the waymarks went missing, which led me to have to guess the way. Of course, I guessed wrongly and wandered into a field of sheep, only to have to wander back again. I tried another direction and was faced with an electric fence. The third option was blocked by a hedgerow made up of entirely stinging and scratching foliage, nettles, brambles and thistles. Brilliant. But I could see a waymark post beyond it. So I had little choice but to climb over the hedge, getting stung and all sorts in the process. Oh to have a machete for these occasions. Or maybe just a flame thrower.

From there it was a straight shot to the beach, which looked idyllic in the evening sun. My feet were in bits once more but the view. Oh that view….