Walk 344 -- Four Mile Bridge to Rhosneigr

Ages:  Colin was 71 years and 129 days.  Rosemary was 68 years and 271 days.

Weather:  Threatening sky at first, and a cold wind.  One sharp shower just to annoy us!  Then mostly sunny.  The wind dropped and it got much warmer.
Location:  Four Mile Bridge to Rhosneigr.
Distance:  8 miles.
Total distance:  3553 miles.
Terrain:  Grassy paths around the estuary.  Lovely beaches, especially Traeth Cwmyran beach which was fantastic to walk along.  Grassy path across the dunes.  Pavement through town.  Mostly flat.
Tide:  Out.
Rivers: No.421, Llyn Cerrig-bâch outlet.  No.422, Afon Crygyll.
Ferries:  None.
Piers:  None.
Kissing gates:  Nos.622 to 641 along the estuary path (20 in all!)
Pubs:  None.
‘Cadw’ properties:  None.
Ferris wheels:  None.
Diversions:  None.
How we got there and back:  We were staying in our caravan on a remote farm in the middle of Anglesey.  This morning we drove to Rhosneigr station where we caught a train to Valley.  There we walked down the road to Four Mile Bridge.
At the end we finished in a car park amongst the dunes.  It was twenty-five past three, so the Walk had taken us 6 hours.  We walked about a mile inland to Rhosneigr station where our car was parked, mostly alongside a lake so it was very pleasant.  There we had our tea and chocolate biscuits before driving back to our caravan.
We immediately took down the awning — in perfect weather of sunshine and no wind — and packed it away, dry, into the car.  The next morning it had turned wet and windy again, so we were very pleased we had done that.  We packed up the caravan and returned home to Malvern.

A little way across the bridge we turned off the road and followed a track.  We then walked across fields which were a bit rocky, in fact we passed an old quarry.  We sat on a rock to eat our pies, and while we were there we were passed by a group of teenage girl hikers, different girls from yesterday’s group.

We met a friendly horse and gave him (or her) a pat.  The path was a bit undulating, and when we rose up high we could still see Four Mile Bridge if we looked behind.  We came to a footbridge over an inlet where a notice told us it was “Valley Tidal Doors”.  We assumed the doors were to stop seawater getting to the marshes behind us.

We emerged on to a lane where we met a woman with her two children in a car.  She asked us if we had seen two groups of girls.  We replied that we had been passed by one group but hadn’t seen the other.  She explained that she was their teacher, and she was looking for them to make sure they were OK.

A bit further on we realised we had missed a turning, so we retraced our steps.  We found the blue logo and arrow were so buried in a hedge we hadn’t seen them as we passed by.  Next we were in a field with lots of horses trotting round us.  They seemed to be friendly, but they were a bit off-putting as they were so big.

The path led us down to the Anglesey side of the Cymyran Strait which we followed for several miles.

My camera then packed up!  The batteries were low, so I changed them for a set of charged-up batteries.  I took a couple more shots, and these batteries read low as well.  It’s time I bought myself a new camera.  I had to use Colin’s camera for the rest of the Walk.
We met the teacher again, walking towards us on the footpath with her two children.  She’d spoken to the group who were ahead of us and they were all right.  She could see the group who were behind us and she was walking to meet them.  We had quite a long conversation with her.  She told us that there were four groups walking towards each other yesterday and they had all spent the night in a bunkhouse in Rhoscolyn.  Today the groups were walking away from each other.  We told her about our coastal venture and how far we had got — she was impressed.
We walked on, and soon it started raining quite heavily.  I just put my kag on because I had assessed the sky and realised it would only be a shower, though a heavy one.  Colin insisted on putting on his kag, overtrousers, the lot!  “I’ve been caught out before!” and other such exclamations exploded from his lips when I tried to reason with him — so I left him to it.  It took him ages, by which time the shower was over!  The sun came out, it got quite hot and we had no more rain all day.  It was a long time before Colin could be persuaded to remove his wet-weather gear — obstinate, or what?  Meanwhile the teacher came running back with her two children, she’d left their coats in the car.  She’d spoken to the other group of girls and was now satisfied that they were all OK.

We came to another inlet.  There was what looked like a narrow concrete causeway across it which would have saved us about a mile of walking.  It looked as if there was a gravel path along the middle between the seaweed, so we went down to the shore and started to carefully pick our way across.  It got more and more difficult, so Colin went on to look at the end.  It was washed away there — we would be stepping on stones but they were under water, skewed and slippery.  It was not worth the risk so we turned back and walked the mile round.

The actual path was narrow and up on a bank, but we found there was a kind of road round three-quarters of the inlet — it was hard-packed enough to walk on anyway, and much easier.  Coming back the other side we saw the second group of girls emerge from the undergrowth behind us.  They sat on a wall to eat their lunches, so they never did catch us up.  We were up in the fields by then anyway, behind hedges.  When we reached the other end of the concrete “causeway” Colin went down to photograph it where it was broken.  Looking at the close-up pictures later I realised I never could have crossed it safely, so we had made the right decision to turn back.

I sat in the sun on a wall post while he did this.  It was so lovely to be out on a brilliant day in such a lovely place!

From there the path led zigzag-like through fields.  We could see a wide expanse of estuary sand down below and knew we would soon be down there.  We could see people walking on it, and Colin wanted to go down directly from where we were.  I said, “No!” for two reasons:  (1) there was a barbed wire fence and a steep bank to negotiate, and (2) there was a river down there which needed to be crossed.  He moaned and moaned about having to walk “all the way inland” to the buildings (it was about 200 yards!) to where we could cross the river on a footbridge.  He never learns that 95% of the shortcuts we have attempted to take have ended in disaster!

We saw the big propeller plane, which dropped parachutists yesterday, about to take off.  There were no parachutists today (was it because it was Saturday?) nor jets, thank goodness, because they are so LOUD and we were now right by the airfield.

But there was a lot of helicopter activity.  Prince William has only recently moved on after seven years with RAF Search & Rescue here.  We would hate to live in this area, the noise is worse than Farnborough!

We came to a car park where we were advised not to loiter!  A blue arrow had led us into the car park but didn’t show us which way to go to get out of it.  We tried two different narrow paths, but soon realised we were wrong both times.

Everywhere seemed to be overgrown, but the wild flowers amongst the weeds and thorns were lovely.

We got out the map, and concluded that a track running parallel to the airfield perimeter track must be the right way although there was no blue arrow nor logo telling us so.  We passed another “NO LOITERING” notice, so we loitered but not with intent because we hadn’t got a tent (sorry!) 

It was the correct path, it led across the dunes to the estuary sands where we wanted to be.
It was lovely to be out on that gorgeous sand!  We sat on a bank to eat our sarnies.  We carried on through a gap to the real beach.

Across the entrance to the Cymyran Strait we could see a sandbank which was a corner of Holy Island where we were yesterday.  On the other side of the bank was Silver Bay where we had sat on a rock so miserably in the rain eating our apples.  I expect it was lovely over there today, it was absolutely glorious where we were today!

There was a wide expanse of sand, and we could see Snowdonia ahead looking like smoky mountains.

It was two miles along this wonderful beach to Rhosneigr, but…..just before the town is a river which is not visible until you get right up to it.  We knew about it because it was marked on the map, and we had been warned about it by a hiking couple we met on the train this morning.

It is too deep to wade, and it winds back along the beach next to the dunes.  They had been caught out, thinking they could just step off the beach into Rhosneigr, but had to retrace their steps a long way to get on to the path leading to a footbridge behind the dunes.

We knew we had to take a path off the beach into the dunes after one mile or so, but there were several paths and we weren’t sure which one to take.  Eventually we came to one with the blue arrow and logo — this time the Wales Coast Path signage didn’t let us down! 

It was a bit hot away from the breeze on the beach, and we began to peel off layers.  A helicopter on the adjacent airfield (Yes, it was still with us!) was doing hovering exercises.  The noise was a bit of a pain, it rather spoiled the pleasantness of the place.  The dune path was boring at first, no view, but at least it was grassy rather than loose sand which makes walking so difficult.

Then we went up high above a bend in the river and we saw how impossible it would have been if we’d continued along the beach — we had been tempted!  The path led down to a footbridge over the river, then up into town.
We passed a group of people standing by the railings looking along the beach.  “There they are!” shouted one of them, pointing.  In the distance, walking blindly towards the river was one of the groups of teenage girls.  And there, in the town, were their parents waiting to take them home after their two-day trek.  We hadn’t the heart to tell them about the river, which they hadn’t noticed because it was directly below them partly shielded by the wall they were standing on.  We often wonder how the girls coped when they reached it — so near yet so far!  They should have looked more closely at their maps.

We met a lady pushing her dog along in a pushchair!  She told us the dog was old and had recently been ill, so that was the only way she could take it for a walk.  We bought ice creams and sat on seats at the end of town overlooking the next beach to eat them.

We then walked along this gorgeous beach to the car park where we intended ending this Walk.  In fact we overshot it a little, we couldn’t see it from the beach and went up an overgrown path through the dunes to find we’d already passed it.

Colin took his cap off and found a HUGE spider on it!  Good job neither of us are arachnophobics. 

That ended Walk no.344, we shall pick up Walk no.345 next time at the dune car park about a mile out of Rhosneigr.  It was twenty-five past three, so the Walk had taken us 6 hours.  We used the loos and ate our apples.  Then we walked about a mile inland to Rhosneigr station where our car was parked, mostly alongside a lake so it was very pleasant.  There we had our tea and chocolate biscuits before driving back to our caravan.
We immediately took down the awning — in perfect weather of sunshine and no wind — and packed it away, dry, into the car.  The next morning it had turned wet and windy again, so we were very pleased we had done that.  We packed up the caravan and returned home to Malvern.

Walk 343 -- Trearddur Bay to Four Mile Bridge

Ages:  Colin was 71 years and 128 days.  Rosemary was 68 years and 270 days.

Weather:  No wind and not cold.  Grey skies turning to light rain.
Location:  Trearddur Bay to Four Mile Bridge.
Distance:  10 miles.
Total distance:  3545 miles.
Terrain:  Moorland-type cliff paths.  Some beach.  Forest paths.  Slightly undulating.
Tide:  Coming in.
Rivers: No.420, Cymyran Strait.
Ferries:  None.
Piers:  None.
Kissing gates:  Nos.607 to 621 mainly in the first half of the Walk (15 in all!)
Pubs:  The ‘White Eagle’ at Rhoscolyn which we visited on a different day for a pub lunch, and found it rather expensive.  Colin drank Milestone’s ‘Shine On’ and White Horse’s ‘Village Idiot’.  I drank Strongbow cider.
‘Cadw’ properties:  None.
Ferris wheels:  None.
Diversions:  None.
How we got there and back:  We were staying in our caravan on a remote farm in the middle of Anglesey.  This morning we drove to Four Mile Bridge where we parked in a layby.  From there we caught a bus to Trearddur Bay, then walked up the road to the spot where we finished the last Walk.
At the end we finished the Walk at the car.  It was twenty-five past five, so the Walk had taken us 7 hours and 35 minutes.  We had our tea and chocolate biscuits before driving back to our caravan.

We walked down the road towards Trearddur Bay, but took little detours off to the right when they presented themselves so that we followed the edge of the low cliff.

We noticed a big house on a rock and wondered if it was actually an hotel, but it had an air of neglect about it.  We didn’t go close enough to look properly, and perhaps it was derelict.  The wild roses were lovely — I enjoyed their scent but Colin is beginning to lose his sense of smell and couldn’t detect it.

We walked across the beautiful sand of Trearddur Bay, then had to backtrack a little to find the toilet block.  We sat on a wall and ate our pasties.

We walked up the road and came across a blue plaque to Thomas Telford, the Scottish engineer.  In both Welsh and English it said:   “THOMAS TELFORD  World renowned civil engineer, known as ‘the Colossus of Roads’, lived in Towyn Lodge and worked here during the design and construction of the Anglesey section (circa 1819/22) of the London to Holyhead road” 

We continued.  There were lots of nice little beaches between rocky sections.  We were walking across one when a boat trailer had to wait for us to clear the slipway.

At the end of the houses we entered a caravan site, according to the notices on the gate.  But we couldn’t see any caravans.  The path led to the top of the cliffs well away from the tarmacked roads — then there came into sight a load of static caravans half hidden in a hollow in the cliffs.

We were walking along a spectacular coast, far more dramatic than we had been expecting.

There were caves, rock arches, twisty and zigzag patterns in the cliffs, different coloured rocks including a deep rose pink which made the cliff look as if it was blushing!

There were deep clefts, some of which we came across unexpectedly — dangerous!

There were also wild flowers, rabbits and goats.

We did enjoy this part of the Walk.

But it was by no means quiet.  The RAF were doing exercises over the sea, and we couldn’t hear ourselves speak when they went over.

Twice a big and noisy propeller plane passed us overhead to drop a number of parachutists into the sea.  They were so far out we could only just see them, though we could see a ship out there.  A number of RIBS were buzzing about picking up men from the water.  Later helicopters were picking up equipment loads from the ship and carrying them back to the airfield.  All very noisy.

We climbed a down where Colin saw choughs and got very excited.  He managed to photograph them, and so did I from a distance using my telephoto lens.

Meanwhile I noticed stones round part of a swampy stream, damming it slightly to form a well.  We couldn’t make up our minds whether it was an ancient holy well, which are scattered all over the remote parts of Wales, or whether the local farmer had rearranged the stones so his animals had somewhere to drink.  Later I looked it up on the internet — it was an ancient well dedicated to St Gwenfaen.  A gift of two white quartz pebbles thrown into the well is said to cure mental problems, but we didn’t know that when we passed so we are still loopy!

We walked up to the top of a hill where there was a lookout post.  A man inside was monitoring the RAF exercises out at sea.  As we came down from there towards Rhoscolyn Bay it started to rain — not again!  The rest of the Walk was wet — BUMMER! 

We read a curious notice on a gate — it told us that the walk-map was wrong and to follow the blue arrows.  We only had the OS map and didn’t think they were referring to that.  We were following the blue arrows anyway.  So when we came to an opening where two blue arrows, one on each side, were pointing towards each other, we assumed they meant us to follow the path through the opening.  But when we did so, we came to a swampy field with no way out!  We retraced our steps, and this time asked a white-van-man, who was working on a house nearby, if he knew which way was the coastal path.  He told us to walk over what looked like someone’s private front lawn, then turn left on to the beach.  And so it was.

We started walking along the top of the beach when Colin noticed a large tree overhanging a low wall, and the wall was dry where it was under the tree.  So we sat there and ate our sarnies.  As we were doing so we watched in amazement as the white-van-man we had just spoken to drove his van across the beach between seaweed covered rocks, even going through the waves at one point because the tide was coming in fast, so that he could exit through the beach car park.  We realised that the only way the half dozen or so properties behind us could be accessed by vehicles was across the beach at low tide!  (We hope they never need a fire engine or an ambulance at high tide!)

We used the loos in the car park, then we walked along the back of the beach behind the dunes.  We came to a junction and should have gone straight on, according to the map.  But there were only arrows to left and right, not for the straight-on path which went through a blue gate.  We tried the path to the right, but it only took us down to the beach which was a dead end.  We returned to the junction and went through the blue gate.  It was the right way! We reckon the landowner had removed the signs — there were lots of  PRIVATE  and  KEEP OUT  notices on all the other blue gates we passed.

We came out on to moorland.  The scenery was not quite so dramatic there but it was still good — pity the rain had to spoil it.

We came to Silver Bay, a lovely stretch of sand, where we sat miserably on a bank of rock to eat our apples.  As we crossed this beautiful bay we met a lady who asked us sarcastically (for the rain was pelting down by then) if we were enjoying our walk.

She was obviously a local, and told us that the path up through the forest was “a lovely walk”.  And it was, at least it would have been if it wasn’t for the rain.  It took us through a conifer wood, then uphill through fields and along a long track.

We were on a quiet lane for a while, then we turned off on a ‘permissive’ path through woods.  It was a lovely path, well maintained.  It seemed to go on forever, but that could have been because of the rain!

At last it spat us out on to the road.  A notice informed us that the permissive path ahead was closed from 1^st October to 31^st January each year — Colin said, “Shooting season!”  Luckily we were still in September, so we were allowed to use it.  Following that there was a little bit of road before turning off again on a path which led us down to a swamp!  There were some boardwalks to help us over, but not nearly enough.
We met a group of teenage girls doing their Duke of Edinburgh award.  They were carrying all their kit, and looked wet, cold and fed up.  We didn’t envy them, at least we were only carrying a day-pack each.  Further on we met another group of girls, we think they came from the same school.

We came out at Four-Mile Bridge, so called because it is four miles by road from Holyhead.  There has been a bridge there since the early 16^th century — before that people could only get to Holyhead by boat.  Four Mile Bridge was the only land route to Holyhead for three hundred years, then the Stanley Embankment was built by Thomas Telford.  We crossed the bridge and came to our car parked in a layby. 

That ended Walk no.343, we shall pick up Walk no.344 next time on the Anglesey side of Four Mile Bridge.  It was twenty-five past five, so the Walk had taken us seven hours thirty-five minutes.  We had our tea and chocolate biscuits before driving back to our caravan. 

I  WISH  IT  WOULD  STOP  RAINING !!