Siriol

Distance: 16.09 miles

Max Altitude: 113 m

Min Altitude: 2 m

Height Gain: 318 m

Height Loss: 296 m

Behold! There’s a large, yellow, circular object in the sky above our heads! Ok, slight exaggeration, but that was pretty much my euphoria level when I realised that it was going to be a sunny day (as promised in the forecast) rather than yet more rain.

After porridge and a coffee in the hostel I set off. The first part was done via road. The Wales Coast Path soon got routed up into a forest once more. But on a fine day, I didn’t want to miss out on being next to the estuary, so I continued via road.

It was was fine at first, with beautiful views of the Dyfi.

But then I ran out of pavement and had to find an alternative route in order to avoid the cars roaring past me.

I ended up in a pickle, I don’t mind admitting. To cut a very long story short, I’ll give you the story of what happened in short bursts: hill, barbed wire, dangerous horse, soaking wet feet in waterfall, barbed wire, angry bees, gardens, back to the road again. Ask me face to face for the uncensored version.

With my heart in my throat and sweating like a pig I arrived, somewhat appropriately, in Ffwrnais. It is the location of the Dyfi Furnace, used from the 1700s to the 19th century to make pig iron with charcoal as fuel (hence the term ‘sweating like a pig’….this blog can be just as educational as other more highbrow offerings, you know).

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I stopped to contemplate my precarious journey so far and studied the map. I needed to get back on to the Wales Coast Path, pronto. But it was, still, quite a distance away from me and the coast in a forest way above. I had no choice though. I found a road, a steep road, and started climbing. It was tiring and miserable. But at least it wasn’t raining right?

After struggling through undergrowth, over mud, rock and stream, and falling over, I got to the WCP. Delight!

As a reward, I was treated to this view.

From there on, it was pretty dull trail walking, through fields and under tree cover. It seemed to go on forever.

I almost forgot though… By now I was in Ceredigion having crossed the border from Powys earlier on. To me, this represented a small psychological victory. Ceredigion is the county of one side of my family so suddenly I felt as though I was actually ‘home’. A strange sensation since I’ve never been this far north in the county before, or not that I remember anyway.

Anyway, I knew that there was a cafe in Tre’r Ddôl and I was beyond delighted when I finally saw it ahead. Siop Cynfelyn is a community-run project that re-opened the former Cletwr Services as a cafe and shop. What a fantastic idea, and to the weary walker, it represents nothing less than an oasis.

I had tea, orange juice and a huge scone. I also stocked up on a few supplies while I was there. I noticed another few walkers re-fuelling while I was there and felt happy that such a place exists. Then it was on through the pretty village.

The WCP joined a long path next to a ditch. The trail became dull again. And frustrating too since by this point I had entered Cors Fochno – a raised peat mire – and had become the prime item of interest to the local insect population. My feet were aching and I was also very tired. Just what I needed to be ankle deep in sludge, then.

I hobbled into Borth and felt relief at seeing the sign. It had been a tough day.

But it didn’t end there. I still had a long walk and climb up Borth hill to get to camp. The views at sunset were spectacular though.

Wendy, the owner of Pen y Graig was waiting for me when I finally did limp into the campsite. She was so kind and welcoming and I can’t thank her enough. Also, my perfect camp – quiet and on a farm.

I had just enough energy to put up Clark Tent before collapsing inside in my stinky, boggy clothing. No two ways about it, I needed a shower and my clothes needed a wash. So I killed two birds with one stone and took my clothes into the shower with me and washed them that way. It felt good to rid my shoes and clothing of the mud clagged up on them.

I cooked a quick meal and virtually passed out. I had managed 16.5 miles and more than 1000ft of climbing in ridiculous circumstances (many of my own doing I admit). A moment of pride turned into a fantastic night’s sleep.

Distance: 12.42 miles

Max Altitude: 33 m

Min Altitude: 5 m

Height Gain: 101 m

Height Loss: 94 m

In Welsh, I’d say that I ‘slept like a pig’. I really did, you know. A pig in a bed with clean sheets, warmth and shelter from the elements. I think I must have savoured every minute of sleep too, in spite of my unconsciousness.

A hearty breakfast set me up for the day, while I ate it with this as my view. Looks like I was in for another drenching.

With waterproofs donned, I set out. Everything in Aberdyfi looked so bleak in the rain but this doorway stood out a mile.

Another place I’ll have to return to in finer weather.

I was soon on the Wales Coast Path next to the Dyfi estuary.

Yachts and boats bobbed about. Nobody was out sailing on a day like this.

The WCP is routed out of Aberdyfi through forests and away from the edge of the estuary. In the driving rain, I really didn’t fancy climbing through hilly, muddy forests, so I decided to go via road to Machynlleth. For one thing, I’d be much closer to the coast than the actual Wales Coast Path. So with head torch on for safety and everything tucked away from the rain, I marched onwards.

Despite the misery of it all, the kilometres fell away quite quickly. It’s amazing the progress I can make when there’s nothing to look at or to photograph.

I crossed from Gwynedd into Powys, over the old Dyfi Bridge and into Machynlleth. It felt weird being this far inland but still on the Wales Coast Path. Besides which, when I was in Aberdyfi, I was only 1km away from the other side of the estuary. The absence of a bridge makes the journey inland a frustrating necessity though.

I thought about going for a swim at the leisure centre but then realised that I’d essentially already swam from Aberdyfi to get here. I also realised that during my walk, I had gone past the 700 mile mark, so allowed myself a moment or two of pride.

I called in to the Museum of Modern Art (slightly smaller than the New York version). An elderly gent was manning a desk. Nothing quite said ‘welcome to our gallery’ more than him wagging his finger at me, and in a plummy ‘Brief Encounter’ style accent, warning me not to “bash the paintings”. Had I just crashed in through the door on a galloping horse? Or maybe he thought I was Jack Nicholson in Batman…

Well, I didn’t stay after that. Instead I visited Owain Glyndŵr’s Welsh Parliament building.

It’s built on the site of the parliament at which Owain was declared leader of Wales. Unlike the MOMA, I got a fabulous and friendly welcome from Dafydd, museum assistant.

I saw a copy of the Pennal letter, which was sent by Owain to Charles VI of France. In it he set out his vision of an independent Wales.

And then I spotted the greatest irony I’ve seen in recent years.

I had to stifle a laugh. You just can’t write this stuff.

After a bite to eat I made my way to my accomodation. For the second night in a row I was to sleep under a solid roof, this time a hostel. It was positively decadent.

I laid in bed with a smile on my face while my kit dried off and felt a very lucky person.

Distance: 16.40 miles

Max Altitude: 78 m

Min Altitude: 1 m

Height Gain: 200 m

Height Loss: 201 m

Yesterday’s gales continued overnight. Clark Tent bore the brunt of lashings of rain and howling winds. I, inside, got very little sleep once again. 

I packed away my soggy kit, wondered whether it would ever get dry again, and then got going. 

But I had to get a quick look at the Fairbourne Miniature Railway before I left. 

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The Wales Coast Path gets routed away from the coast after Fairbourne. It ends up going through farmland and up hills. Although the sun had come out, I didn’t fancy trudging through muddy fields, so I elected to take the road route for the first section of the day. It was quiet and actually much closer to the coast than the WCP. The scenery was typical.

I made it to Llwyngwril and noticed a yarn bombing on the way into the village. 

And then another…

And another!

I discovered that this is a village project to raise money for the community centre. I thought it was fantastic! As a crocheter, I looked at some of the yarnbombing creations with awe.

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And as I departed, there was even a little helper on the WCP waymark to wave me on my way. 

It’s a good thing that the yarnbombing put such a smile on my face because it was then that the clouds opened and the most relentless of rain began. It didn’t stop. For the next few kilometres I trudged in utter misery, soaked. 

I had my head down to avoid rain getting in to my coat past my face. And that led me to missing a waymark. I ended up at a disused quarry which seemed to have a depiction of Paul McCartney as a young child on a poster outside. 

Anyway, I turned back and a few metres away there was the waymark. I was back on track.

I then got to walk over the relatively new Tonfanau Bridge over the Dysynni estuary. This was put here just for the Wales Coast Path. As footbridges go, this is a good one.

By the time I reached Tywyn, it was truly torrential. I just wanted the day to be over and done with as I had a prize waiting for me in Aberdyfi, so on I ploughed. I had a long walk along the beach in order to get there and by the time I reached the end of it, the rain eased off enough for me to take a photo of the gorgeous view I’d had to accompany me. Great isn’t it?

In fairness, on a sunny day it’s probably stunning. But in driving rain and low visibility, not so much. I will have to return…

And so it was that with sore feet and an aching will, I struggled into Aberdyfi and collapsed….into a B&B! Every cloud has a silver lining, and some of those linings come in the form of an actual bed (a dry one at that), with showers, towels and a roof etc. 

How brilliant?

Distance: 10.50 miles

Max Altitude: 40 m

Min Altitude: 1 m

Height Gain: 155 m

Height Loss: 156 m

Yesterday’s winds turned into today’s gales. Overnight, poor old Clark Tent had been buffeted and blasted by Mother Nature. Packing him up proved no mean feat either. At times I must have looked like a kite boarder rather than a backpacker folding up kit.

With the Coastguard warning people about the high winds, I made the sensible decision to not rejoin the Wales Coast Path on the beach at Talybont but instead to go via road immediately. After a while the WCP joined my route and from up high I could see the crashing waves on the beaches below.

With my phone in my pocket away from the rain and no distractions, I got to Abermaw in good time. The sea front was being smashed by the swell. Pebbles and small rocks had been thrown inland by the waves and sea foam was being churned up and spewed out on to the promenade.

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A few weeks ago, the author Bethan Gwanas had written her Daily Post Column about me. Since then we’ve been tweeting back and forth and today we finally met in person.

She arrived in bright pink on her bike and we proceeded to have tea and raspberry muffin inside the Anchor restaurant (next door to the Isis restaurant….maybe time to change the branding, guys).

Anyway, the world was put to rights and we even debated the evolutionary purpose of horse flies (conclusion: they have no point).

Before she left, Bethan and I visited Tŷ Gwyn, a museum dedicated to one of the most famous shipwrecks in Welsh history, the mysterious Bronze Bell wreck.

The museum uncovers the story of the ship laden with a cargo of precious Italian marble bound for London and destined to be used in the building of St Paul’s Cathedral. But it sailed way off course and ended up meeting a watery end just off the coast of Abermaw. Much of the valuable marble is still lying at the bottom of the sea.

Tŷ Gwyn deals with this subject and is an interesting insight into the town. Gareth the curator is a fascinating man with a wealth of knowledge. Highly recommended.

After another sad goodbye, Bethan and I parted company.

Despite the winds I needed to cross the Mawddach Estuary on the viaduct. I couldn’t possibly have asked for more dramatic weather.

I treaded across the long footbridge, the storms making every step difficult to reach the other side. By now it was raining erratically too. But it was also refreshing and crossing on top of the coastal defences to Fairbourne was exciting in such weather.

I arrived in camp at Ynys Faig in the nick of time, just before the heavens opened for real. Thank you to Theresa for my pitch for the evening.

Heading south, it now truly feels as though I’m on the way home.

Distance: 14.1 miles

Max Altitude: 67 m

Min Altitude: 1 m

Height Gain: 227 m

Height Loss: 229 m

It had been a rainy night and I hadn’t slept very well. I decided to wait for a break in the weather until I packed up and got on my way. Eventually it came but it was late morning when I started walking towards Harlech Castle.

Thank you to Eirlys at Tanforhesgan for making me so welcome and for the wonderful facilities in camp.

It didn’t take long for me to walk to Harlech. I needed to find somewhere to eat and update my blog. I saw the sign and started towards Harlech Castle. I hadn’t banked on there being the most grotesque hill to get to it though. A few steps in I almost turned around to find somewhere else, but hey, in for a penny, in for a pound, so I continued. Ruddy-faced and windswept, I finally arrived at the castle, desperate for food and water.

The good news was that the facilities at the castle were top notch. Yes, there was the fortress built by Edward I in 1283, but moreover there was a cafe and free broadband. Those Normans sure knew how to plan ahead…

So that’s where I sat, wrote, drank and ate. This was my view. Not bad eh?

Did I go in to the actual castle? No. But it has been added to my ‘to do’ list. It’s an excuse to return for one thing. The excellent cakes are another excuse.

By the time I was ready to leave, the rain clouds had cleared to reveal a blue sky.

I took that as my cue to start walking again so I made the somewhat easier descent to the sea front in order to rejoin the Wales Coast Path.

Ahead of me lay a vast expanse of sandy beach with the tide right out.

The rain had cleared but the breeze was insane. Loose sand snaked across the beach, whipped up by the wind.

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After a couple of kilometres, I was led away from the coast and uphill in order to avoid the headland. I walked along roads and through fields for what felt like ages. I went past the former RAF base at Llanbedr and crossed the railway line several times too.

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The weather by now was confused, throwing bright sunlight at me as well as winds and showers. It resulted in a rainbow, not terribly well captured by my iPhone. But you get the gist.

Eventually I got back to a sandy beach at Morfa Dyffryn and started walking south. There’s a naturist area here but I didn’t see anyone in clothes let alone naked.

Daydreaming, I ambled down the beach. I was tired by this point and couldn’t wait to get to sleep.

Distance: 11.08 miles

Max Altitude: 45 m

Min Altitude: 1 m

Height Gain: 185 m

Height Loss: 175 m

I left Porthmadog in the morning and made my way across the cob once more. I had walked back and forth across it several times while filming with ITV Wales. But this time I was leaving for real.

There are many places that the Wales Coast Path skims past but possibly none more impressive than Portmeirion. I hadn’t been for years and wasn’t going to pass up the chance to visit again, so I deviated from the WCP in order to get there.

Despite murky skies, it didn’t disappoint. How could it? This place is perfection and keeps getting better. What I love about Portmeirion is the detail.

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I didn’t want to leave and with a heavy heart I walked down the long driveway towards Minffordd. Everything looked so grey after Portmeirion.

I soon got to Penrhyndeudraeth where my spirits were lifted upon seeing there was a Spar. It doesn’t take much, does it.

I then reached the bridge which last year shaved 10 miles off the original 880 mile Wales Coast Path route. The first Pont Briwet had opened in 1867 and carried a railway line and road. But by the late 1990s, the timber was in poor condition, plus its narrow width was outdated for modern transport. Work began in 2013 and the new bridge was opened in 2015. And with it disappeared to make the journey far inland to Maentwrog.

I stopped right next to it to eat my sandwiches (cheese & pickle) from Spar. It was a quiet spot.

Passing Llandecwyn, I entered the salt marshes of Glastraeth.

I could see for miles in each direction. I surveyed Eryri (Snowdonia) and back across the estuary to wonderful Portmeirion.

But it was time to get to camp. What a fabulous welcome I received from Eirlys from Tanforhesgan who was on the doorstep waiting for me when I arrived on sore feet. The camp was quiet and the facilities spotlessly clean.

Clark Tent was soon pitched and inside I snuggled. I awaited the rain that had been forecast….