Walk 353 -- Whistling Sands to Aberdaron

Ages:  Colin was 71 years and 338 days.  Rosemary was 69 years and 115 days.

Weather:  Brilliant sunshine all day.  A slight breeze which disappeared this afternoon.

Location:  Whistling Sands to Aberdaron.

Distance:  8 miles.

Total distance:  3644 miles.

Terrain:  Grassy paths, hardly any mud, very undulating, magnificent views.

Tide:  Mostly out.

Rivers: None.

Ferries:  None.

Piers:  None.

Kissing gates:  Nos.722 to 735 (14 in all) mostly towards the end of the Walk.

Pubs:  ‘Gwesty ty Newyold’ in Aberdaron where we drank Purple Moose ‘Canon Lan’ and Cwrw Llyn ‘Brenin-Enlli’.

‘Cadw’ properties:  None.

Ferris wheels:  None.

Diversions:  None.

How we got there and back:  We were staying in our caravan in Snowdonia.  This morning we drove to Aberdaron where again we parked the car up the steep road to save ourselves £9.00!  From there we walked to Whistling Sands along the roads.

At the end we came to our car in Aberdaron.  We dumped our rucksacks, then walked down to the pub in the village.  Returning to the car, we had our tea and biscuits, then drove back to our caravan.

We started today’s Walk in the car park above Whistling Sands Beach where a good quality gravelled path led to the cliff top.  There was a seat partway along, so we sat on it and ate our “guandos” — potato, veg and meat wrapped in a leathery bit of pastry.  (They cost £2 each and weren’t worth it — we shan’t buy them again!)  We were passed by a hiking couple while we were there.  There were fantastic views across Whistling Sands Beach, and wall-to-wall blue sky added to the breathtaking panorama.

When we were able to tear ourselves away, we turned our backs on Whistling Sands and walked south-west on a wide grassy path.  There was hardly any mud, it was much better walking conditions than the last Walk.  The path followed the wiggles of the coast with all it’s spectacular scenery.  A hiking couple came towards us, hikers seemed to be out in force today.  Until today we hadn’t met any other hikers this year — and we didn’t meet any more today!

We saw a wheatear (white-arse!) on a post and both took lots of pictures of it.  In the end I chose one of mine to display — Colin’s not the only one who can take good wildlife pictures!

There were celandines all over the place, and interesting rocks down on the rocky beaches.  After about a mile (or more!) we left adjacent fields behind and began to climb in more open moorland.  It was steep, but it wasn’t too bad and we coped.  The sun beat down and the cold wind of this morning seemed to disappear, so we both stripped off a layer.

We didn’t have to climb right to the top.  As we came round the summit I realised the next bit would be adjacent to fields again,  So, before we got that far, we chose a rock to sit on and eat our sandwiches.  The sky was blue, the views were amazing and there were no man-made sounds — PERFICK!

We carried on steeply downhill, and just as Colin had gone behind a totally inadequate bush — “It’s all right, there’s NOBODY about!” — we heard voices behind us.  It was the same couple whom we had met going the other way to us earlier, they were on their way back.  They were walking much faster than us (because we are old fogies) and we soon lost sight of them again.  Walking was a bit more challenging for the next mile or so, it was very up & down and there was a bit more mud — but not nearly as much as the last Walk.  The views and weather were still fantastic, we couldn’t believe our luck.

From almost sea level we started to climb the next mountain which was higher than ever.  Earlier Colin had seen a coach up there — that’s because there is a viewpoint at the top with a road leading up to a car park.  We thought our peace would be shattered, but when we eventually reached the top there were only a couple of family cars in the car park, and very few people about.  We sat on some rocks to eat our apples — we seemed to be on top of the world!

Far below, in the middle of a seemingly still sea, lay the mysterious Bardsey Island.  It used to be a place of pilgrimage, and was rumoured to contain the bodies of twenty-thousand saints!  (I wonder how they all fitted on that tiny rock?)  Nowadays it is a bird sanctuary.  Nobody lives there permanently, though I believe it is possible to stay there in rather basic accommodation.

A concrete path led us down towards the sea, then concrete steps took us further down to a wide ledge where there were the concrete bases of several buildings.  We guessed they were the remains of a wartime lookout post long since demolished.  The posts with blue arrows on took us down and down and down.  We had wonderful views of Bardsey Island for the next few miles.

When we seemed to be only just above the sea, the arrows pointed us along westwards.  Next we climbed a little to a footbridge over a stream, and were pointed to a narrow path with a sharp dropaway round the western and southern slopes of Mynydd y Gwyddel.  Colin reckoned that the path there was about as dangerous as the landslide path which was closed at Morfa Nefyn (a couple of Walks ago) yet it was the official way.  The path widened out, and we passed between Mynydd y Gwyddel and Trwyn y Gwyddel — we were relieved we didn’t have to climb this last mountain.

We went down to a footbridge and across a field with sheep in it.  Then we were on a wide cliffside path again.  It was obvious that a lot of work had recently been done on this part of the path to make it more user-friendly — for which we were grateful.  We sat on a rock and ate our chocolate.  We noticed a faint rainbow completely round the sun, and later Colin noticed a faint vertical rainbow colouring in the sky.  In my experience, this has always meant a storm was in the offing — certainly it was a little cooler and the visibility had deteriorated.

We continued across open moorland which had recently been cleared of gorse — it was a nice wide path.  We saw a chough on the clifftop, and wonderful geology on a cliff face.  (I wonder what it all means — I ought to know, but I don’t!)  When we reached yet another deep inlet, we were taken steeply uphill inland and then back on ourselves until we reached a gate.  (We thought we had been scuppered when we found there was no gate or stile in the corner of the field where we expected it to be, and realised the only way to go was back on ourselves!)  We went through the gate and across a field.

And there we caught our first sight of the end of our Walk — Aberdaron!  (We always feel better when we can see the end of a Walk.)  But the blue arrows then turned us round and we had to walk directly away from our goal! 

We entered a National Trust property — Pen-y-Cil.  We had to walk downhill towards the “nose” before we picked up a lower path which turned us round and pointed us once more towards Aberdaron.  We had our last views of Bardsey Island before we turned — perhaps we’ll visit it one day and do a bit of bird-watching.

The path was quite good at first, it was fairly flat and wide.  Then it got more undulating, much more narrow, and kept going in and out of the cliffside.  Aberdaron didn’t seem to get any nearer though it felt as if we had walked for miles.  We were getting very tired.

We passed very close to a grazing bull, but he didn’t take any notice of us, thank goodness.  We then passed two entrances to a badger sett, both very close to the path.  The holes were huge — luckily we saw them and didn’t trip.

The path seemed to get more and more narrow, and it was right on the edge.

It also got very undulating with steps in places.

We were tiring rapidly and longing for the end of the Walk where we planned to visit the pub.

But Aberdaron still seemed just as far away.

We noticed a fishing boat just offshore.  Later we came to a cutting where the fishing boats were kept, and the one we had seen was now being towed in by a tractor.  There must have been at least a hundred steps down to the beach, and a hundred up the other side!  There was no other way — how we wished we could fly!

It took us ages to negotiate all those steps — we were very tired by then.  The path was okay for a while, then we came to another cutting with an equal number of steps each side!  This was cruel!  We looked for a way past on the beach, for we were very near Aberdaron by now, but it was impossible — the tide was too far in.

So we laboured up the steps and into Aberdaron.  We came to the car, left our rucksacks and walking poles in the back, and walked down to the pub.

That ended Walk no.353, we shall pick up Walk no.354 next time at the pub in Aberdaron.  It was quarter to seven, so the Walk had taken us eight hours ten minutes.  Returning to the car after our sojourn in the pub — where everyone except us spoke Welsh, even the youngsters — we had our tea and biscuits, then drove back to our caravan.

That was a brilliant Walk, the scenery and the weather were perfect!  But those two gullies right at the end when we were tired was a sting in the tail!  Never mind, we coped!