Having walked from Dulas to Porth Amlwch in the morning we reversed our direction in the afternoon by taking the car to Cemaes and walking back to Porth Amlwch, so that our backs were turned on The carbuncle on the landscape Wylfa Power Station.
Joined today by good friends Esther Roberts and Judith Newton who are chivying us along the final stages of the Wales Coast Path walk.
We first strolled round the grounds of the Swtan Heritage Museum, which doesn’t open until the second bank holiday in May, it is a restored 17th century Welsh Cottage, the roof is thatched and the walls whitewashed..
There is a pay and display car park and toilet here, with a cafe nearby.
We set off at a brisk pace gradually going uphill towards Porth y Bribys, we had to really stop and consider our next steps as there were fences and signs intermingled, plus lots of cows in the field. We eventually made our way past the cows, down an incline to the little island Ynys y Fydlyn, with a freshwater lake beyond.
We stopped for a breather, and chatted to some fellow walkers, before scrambling up the cliff face and some rocky terrain before levelling off as we approached the abandoned copper works and the two navigational points known as the White Ladies.
Out to sea the Skerries Lighthouse dominates the horizon, a reminder of the treacherous seas around Anglesey, and the numerous shipwrecks sand lives lost – a sobering thought.
Even more sobering is the sight of Wylfa Nuclear Power Station. Juxtaposition against the rural scenes of sheep grazing and farmers tilling the fields, it is altogether a bizarre site.
We sidetracked from here to visit the little church in the field beyond and made our way across the Mynachdy estate, dropping slightly to Hen Borth then rounding Trwyn Cemlyn, followed by a hard slog across the shingle on Cemlyn Bay. We stopped to talk to some wardens from the reserve who were watching out for incoming birds, mainly terns. Rather them than me, as there was a fresh, cool breeze blowing.
At the Felinheli Cafnan corn-mill we took a break, situated in a little dip, it was out of the wind and also Wylfa was out of sight. I washed my boots in the clear water, certainly had collected some mud during the walk.
Back on track we were soon trying to negotiate our way around Wylfa. There was a sign discarded in the bushes leading to the forest, and that path was overgrown, so we walked around Wylfa following the roadway keeping a wary eye open for some very discreet signage. It felt strange, soulless and not the most endearing part of the walk. We eventually climbed over a gateway to get out of the area.
We quickly made our way towards Cemaes Head, opting for the short cut to Cemaes, stopping at the Stag pub for a bar meal, before completing our walk, passing Harry Furlong Buoy which now stands to one side of the Main Street to the harbour, rather than warning ships against the danger of the rocks at Trwyn Cemlyn.
The sun shone on the pretty little harbour of Cemaes as four tired ladies made their way to the car park.
Joined by our friend Kim, the walk took us down a muddy lane from the car park in Redwick, onto the sea wall and onwards towards the second Severn Bridge, inland and then across the M4 motorway – we looked down on the pay tolls for the bridge – then down an icy country lane shadowing the M4, we could hear but not see the traffic whizzing past – we swung past Rogiet and the Severn Tunnel and ventured as far as Caldicot. A nice coffee at a pop up craft shop in Caldicot, a couple of shops visited before the reliable Trevor takes us back to the Rose Inn for a swift half in front of a roaring fire.
We have now abandoned the two car option – where we drove one car to Point A then drove another to Point B then walked from B to A to recover car from point A, to then drive to point B to pick up the second car. Confused – so were we all….
We now drive to where we left off from the last walk and continue eastwards, when we finish for the day we call a cab.
Hats off to the taxi drivers of Newport and surrounds they have been great characters and prompt pick ups. Our taxi driver on the return leg was Trevor from Denzil Davies taxis, who took a shine to our Luce…as with the other taxi drivers very chatty about the local area .
Ever had an urge to walk …. a large redundancy payment made it possible for me. I really wanted to walk and walk and walk. After some research, I decided on a route across northern Spain possibly recalling a night with my mother’s whose choice of film was The Way; a feel good, find yourself film set on the walking route in northern Spain. Martin Sheen finds challenges and meaning following in the footsteps of his dead son by completing a stretch of the Way that his son had started.
Planned and executed with a good friend, Rhonda Power, we flew to Madrid, took a train to Leon (Spain) and followed the pilgrimage route to Santiago De Compostela on foot, bike and a short taxi ride when the challenge over rode the meaning! It was a great experience but crowded, dirty and for at least 3 days we walked what should have been called the M4 leg. There was no profound sign as to what was next for me and what there was is all for another tale.
I had done some training on the Wales Coast Path and Brecon Beacons with keen photographer, and long time friend, Eirlys Thomas, before setting off for Spain. On reflection, there was nothing to be found in northern Spain that challenged or gave meaning in quite the same breathtaking, incredible, brutish, familiar, shocking and unexpected way as the Welsh landscape complete with the crazy banter and pitstops to be found along the way.
Feeling very humble and forgiving about any small problem I previously thought that Wales may have and spurred on by a couple of bottles of wine, our plan to walk the Wales Coast Path was hatched..
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