Date walked: 28th July 2014
Distance: about 12 miles
Map used: OS Explorer No.262: Anglesey West
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Having reached Bangor on my last walk I had a dilemma: how to deal with Anglesey. Clockwise? Anticlockwise? And starting from where? In the end my decision was made by my choice of how I got to the islands (for Anglesey really comprises several islands). To get to Menai Bridge by road would be a four hour drive at least, and although such a drive cross-country is beautiful I felt that I had seen quite a bit of this scenery to date.
I remembered that there was a flight from Cardiff to near Holyhead from Citywing. The timings were perfect. A 7.40am flight on Monday would touch down at 8.40, giving me a whole days walk and on Friday the return flight would leave at 16.40, also allowing me to have a day’s walk. At around £120 for the return flight and free parking at Cardiff airport this seemed like a bargain. So I booked up four nights Bed and Breakfast and crossed my fingers for decent weather.
I had never been in such a small plane. Twin turbo-prop engines, and with just 25 seats, it nevertheless felt perfectly stable as we climbed over the west coast. Before reaching our cruising height I was able to clearly make out the Aberthaw Power Stations.
Later I had a good view over Aberdovey.
As we descended over Anglesey we passed Llanddwyn Island, which I would circumnavigate on day 3.
We touched down within a few minutes of our expected arrival time. Anglesey Airport terminal comprises a single storey little building with a check in desk, one for car hire, toilets and a vending machine – and a telly of course, to keep you irritated/entertained. Five minutes after arriving I was in the tiny car park wondering how I was going to get to Holyhead. Somehow I didn’t see the bus stop and I begged a lift from a guy picking up a car. He dropped me at a bus stop about half a mile along the road where a chatty woman was also waiting for a bus that would arrive shortly for Holyhead. It went via the airport!
It was around 9.30am when I got off the bus and headed for the coast. I took advantage of a minor detour to pass though St Cybi’s churchyard.
Holyhead back streets were unremarkable but the town boasts the longest breakwater in the United Kingdom (1.7 miles).
Just near where the breakwater joins to the mainland stands the fabulous ruin of Soldiers Point, built in 1848 as a residence for the engineer in charge of the alterations to Holyhead harbour. As I walked past the extensive ruins I met a couple who had stayed there in the early 70’s when it was a hotel. There are several cottages behind the main building; they told me one has a baptismal font in it.
The back of the property faces a coarse pebbled beach and the path follows this to Porth Namarch, part of the Holyhead Breakwater Country Park.
At the far side of the bay the landscape changes dramatically. The rocky, heather-clothed headland is backed by the steeply rising Holyhead Mountain. These are Pre-Cambrian rocks – some of the oldest in the UK and a source of great excitement to geologists and climbers.
Someone has placed some pretty mosaics of some birds by the path.
After passing below some dramatic white cliffs ……
……the path climbs towards North Stack on carefully laid stones, passing a peculiar shrine that no one seems to know much about.
Out to sea, the ferries to and from Ireland were doing a brisk trade.
North Stack was good value for a mooch around.
Next to a socking great house (the OS map has the bay below the sheer cliffs below called Parliament House)…
…. was a C19th magazine (where shells for a warning canon were stored).
At the far end of the promontory the remains of the array of fog horns was only accessible by climbing over the low wall.
The path climbed steeply from here, providing a view to the lighthouse on South Stack.
The path passes the rather insignificant remains of a Roman lookout point and then becomes a bit of a highway.
It then drops down to a WWII lookout point above the lighthouse.
It was a long way down to the lighthouse from here and the path zig zags down the hill to near the little bridge that connects it to the mainland.
From near the lighthouse the path stays near the cliff top to Ellin’s Tower.
This rather squat little C19th memorial building is now occupied by the RSPB. Inside you can stare through telescopes in hope of seeing puffins (not today).
Above here a dead-end road deposits car-bourne visitors by a cafe but I had resolved not to over-indulge with cake on this trip so I kept away from temptation. The path takes the road which rounds the bay (rather delightfully called Abraham’s Bosom) and then returns to a wild stretch of rocky pre- Cambrian coast again which forms part of the South Stack Cliffs Nature Reserve.
The cliffs are relatively low here, bringing the gently lapping soundscape of the sea back into play.
Over the next mile there was rocky cove after rocky cove.
Then a new sound drowned out the waves when a Search and Rescue helicopter appeared and then swept overhead. I knew that they were based at nearby RAF Valley – which shares the runways with Anglesey Airport).
The helicopter made several noisy circuits before coming to a halt about 20 feet above the cliffs. And there it stayed, to the eye completely still, for so long that despite its novelty I got bored of nothing happening and carried on walking.
This was clearly an exercise. A few minutes later the helicopter rose a little and a figure appeared from its side and then slowly dropped earthwards on a rope and was deposited on the cliff top.
Across the bay I could see my destination of Trearddur but I still had a couple of miles to go.
The flora of the coastal paths don’t often do dramatic displays but I passed a wonderful carpet of a low growing white-flowered plant that I couldn’t name.
Several coves and inlets later I spied a pair of girls in one who had clearly decided that beaches were not for them.
Shortly afterwards the little beach at Parth Dafarch came into view and with it the sound of excited children joined the calling of the gulls.
Just before the beach a small posse of static caravans occupied a little gully; in one I could clearly hear a woman crying. Which was quite uncomfortable. There was nothing I could do but it is always disconcerting to be aware of someone’s distress but at the same time unable to respond.
The wall at the back of the beach carries two memorials and a poem (a bit pants IMHO).
I’d had nothing to eat since a croissant at Cardiff Airport so I reckoned that I deserved an ice-cream and a sit.
From Porth Dafarch the path alternates between keeping to the headland and short sections by the road.
On one rocky outcrop stands a massive house in an Arts and Crafts style.
The beach at Trearddur Bay was busy and needing lots of signs.
The very helpful volunteer at the RNLI shop gave me directions to my Bed and Breakfast (which was just along the promenade). It was a warm afternoon and time for a snooze.
I was staying at Ingledene Bed and Breakfast and was very pleased with my ground floor room facing the sea. It had a toilet and wash basin but no bathrobe; the bathroom was upstairs so I took my change of clothes with me, enjoyed a long hot shower and then dressed for the beach. And then undressed back in my room and had a snooze.
I ate at Seacroft that night, just 50 yards from the B&B. A nice looking restaurant with rooms, it has decking and tables outside, an inflexible payment system and at least one rather brusque member of staff. I enjoyed my burger and glass of Chardonnay. And then had another glass.
It was a beautiful evening so having equipped myself with a big bar of chocolate at the local Spar I returned to the promenade to watch the sunset. Here I was entertained by a runner who ran along the promenade, then walked a bit and ran again. And did it again. And again. And again.
Bed time.
Ellin was some builder! Single handed, do we think?
Before I forget, your link to Abraham’s Bosom takes me to one of the most original 404 error messages I’ve ever see.. Gnarly, dude! And a nice walk and the usual good pics (they’re good cos you always take them from the right angle! See? Don’t the white rocks all over the place sort of look like sheep in the distance?
Oh, I must have another look at that link. I can’t remember what it was to. Thanks about the pics. Hadn’t thought about angles but maybe it comes natually now, (he says, medestly). I can’t say that I was minded of sheep by the white rocks, which is clearly surprising considering my sheep interest. Or maybe I saw them as sheep without imagining that they were rocks.
I love the shape the walker/runner makes – great crop. This comes over as a very high spirited walk – with the weather and the views I am not surprised.
Ta muchley. It was my shot of the day, and did take lots of tries.
Excellent. Sounds and looks an interesting and relaxing day.
I’ve canoed on a stretch of Anglesey, in, and out (thankfully) of sea bound caves, and on another day, over to Puffin island…
Lovely place. Lovely blog.
It was excellent. And that’s a fact I didn’t know about you, whicvh is always fascinating. You must tell me all about it. Thanks for the nice comments.
If you squint a bit, you can see the small airbound shuttle ferry about to enter and dock with it’s larger sea bound motherferryship…..
OOh, can you? (returns to squint some more). Maybe they werre filming for Dr Who?
What great variety Charles – a real pleasure.
I was pondering what makes the Parliament House picture so pleasing.
Is it that there are three strong horizontal rectangles in blue, black and white, held in place by opposing diagonals? Then the relatively delicate green rectangles of the windows and the domination of the unexpectedly heavy black rectangles of the chimney stacks? Add in the detail within the window frames and the acknowledgement to Turner’s red buoy in the alarm box. It’s art!
Thanks Rob, my pleasure. I’m gratifed to have such thoughful attention given to that pic. This was pre-Mr Turner, of course! (but nice thought).
Very nice Post, Charles and a smashing day’s walk. Certainly somewhere I should like to explore. Seaside restaurants should always have at least one brusque member of staff. If not two. Dave
Thanks Dave. Get over there! Maybe if all the staff were brusque it would be fun to go there!
I had the honour of knowing Arnold Fenon, the gentleman who’s poem is he centre slate at Porth dafarch beach. He was an eloquent, erudite, and funny man. Always ready with a story, and enjoyed joining our medieval group at shows in local castles.
He sounds like a delightful man. Thanks for dropping by and sharing that here.