Walk 363 -- Dovey Junction to Borth

Ages:  Colin was 72 years and 345 days.  Rosemary was 70 years and 122 days.

Weather:  Wall-to-wall blue sky all day, but a very cold east wind which did get fractionally warmer as the day progressed.
Location:  Dovey Junction to Borth.
Distance:  12 miles.
Total distance:  3752 miles.
Terrain:  Too much road-walking!  Several miles along a main road, then several miles along a very straight B-road.  The final two and a half miles was along a firm sandy beach — fantastic!
Tide:  Out when it mattered.
Rivers: No.442, Afon Einion.  No.443, Afon Leri.
Ferries:  None.
Piers:  None.
Kissing gates:  None.
Pubs:  None.
‘Cadw’ properties:  None.
Ferris wheels:  None.
Diversions:  None.
How we got there and back:  We were staying in our caravan near Aberaeron.  This morning we drove to Borth and parked on the seafront near the station.  We caught a train to Dovey Junction.
At the end we finished the Walk at the car in Borth.  We had our tea and biscuits, then drove back to our caravan.

Dovey Junction Station must be the most god-forsaken station on the whole rail network!  It is out in the middle of a swamp with no buildings anywhere near, not even on the station itself.  Fortunately we alighted from a train there on a sunny day — it must be miserable for anybody having to change trains there in the dark and/or inclement weather.  It is very near the railway bridge across the Afon Dyfi (River Dovey) which we had pretended to cross there because we didn’t want to walk all the way to Machynlleth and back.  We are now officially in South Wales, this river being the border between North and South Wales.

We photographed the bridge, then found our way along a very long platform to the exit.  (We very nearly didn’t find it because it was not very obvious and the exit sign had been blown round backwards by the wind.)

A track, one kilometre long, took us out to the main road, it was still lonely and bleak.  We passed some blackthorn which was very pretty in full flower — this cheered us up.  We wished it was nearer home because we would like to pick the sloes next September/October to make sloe gin!  We donned our high-viz vests and walked several miles along the road, traffic-dodging all the time.  Not much fun!  We came to a decent layby where we could get away from the traffic, but there were no seats there.  So we sat on a bank and got out our pork pies.  We realised they were too big, and only managed half each — we should have bought only one and cut it in half.  The wind was still very cold but we had lovely views across the river from where we were sitting.  We could see Aberdovey sometimes as we continued our march along. 

We came to a place called Furnace where there is a huge water wheel and a picturesque waterfall. 

We spent ages there looking around.  The buildings housed an 18^th century charcoal-burning iron furnace.  There was plenty of timber around to make charcoal, and plenty of water power to pump the bellows for the furnace — but no iron ore.  That had to be shipped in from Cumbria — apparently it was easier to bring the iron to the charcoal than to bring the charcoal to the iron!  The business only lasted for fifty years, from 1750 to 1800, before it was superseded by coke-burning furnaces elsewhere.  Nowadays the buildings provide a home for bats. 

We continued for another traffic-dodging mile until we were able to slip into a side road.  There we found a bank to sit on and eat our sarnies.  We carried on for another mile to Tre’r-ddôl where there was a café.  We bought a pot of tea and had a bit of a rest.  We removed some layers because it was getting hot by then.  It was still windy, but it had warmed up. 

Thankfully we turned on to a B road, but we kept our high-viz vests on.  The traffic was far less, but it came fast when it did come because this road has dead straight stretches.  We passed a dead tawny owl on the verge, which was very sad.  We suspected it had been run over.  There were horses in a field nearby who came over to the gate to check us over.  A woman sitting in a deck chair by an adjacent house kept calling them back, but the brown one took no notice.

We came to a derelict church, a very sad sight.  It was fenced off with notices telling us to keep out because the roof was falling in on the far side.  I wonder how many of our ancient churches will end up like that, with dwindling congregations all over the country? 

The road seemed very long.  It was almost dead straight, boring and we were tired.  We passed some lambs in a field indicating that Spring is well and truly here.  We saw a wooden owl sculpture on a post in a garden, and it reminded us of the dead owl we had passed a mile or so back.

We also passed an old train carriage turned into accommodation, and it reminded us of Pagham Beach in Sussex where there are dozens of these carriages with people living in them.  Originally the intention was that they were holiday homes, but many people live in them permanently now.  When I taught in Bognor Regis Community College, from 1982 to 1997, some of my pupils were housed in them by the local Council — and they were barely fit for human habitation.  Others, usually privately owned, had been refurbished to a high standard and, though small, were very comfortable to live in. 

At last we came to a level crossing where we crossed the canalised river.  We watched a train cross the river a little further down.

We wanted to take a track going north from that point, but we couldn’t find it.  The only track seemed to go through a locked gate into a yacht club.  There was nowhere else, so we investigated it further — it actually hooked round behind the building, then there was an S-bend alongside the yacht club.  This is a public footpath, yet there were no signs.  It was a good track up to the dunes which continued round them to a car park.  (Only the first part of this track was marked on our OS map.)

Being a Saturday, there were lots of cars parked on the sands there, but the car park didn’t look full because it was huge!  Several cars were parked below high water mark, which reminded us of Bosham (in Sussex) where the locals frequently watch the waves engulf parked vehicles despite warning notices all over the place! 

We had grand views of Aberdovey across the river — it looked so near!  We have walked miles since we were there, yet there it was seemingly just yards away.  The tide was right out so we could hardly see the river.  There were vast areas of sand all around us.  The weather was still very bright and sunny, but there was a cold wind coming down the valley from the east.

We walked round the end of the dunes where we were closer to Aberdovey than we were to our car parked in Borth!  We had to go over the end dunes leaving footprints in the sand — isn’t there a song about that?  We sat on tufts of grass amongst the dunes to eat our chocolate. 

From there it was two and a half miles of firm sandy beach to walk to our car — fantastic! 

The tide was way out at first, but it crept in as we walked along.

Towards Borth we began to see little tree stumps sticking out of the sand.

It was only then that I remembered hearing about this ‘secret’ fossilised forest which appeared out of the sand after lying buried for four thousand years!

It was at its best three or four years ago when it first appeared — now it seems to be sinking beneath the waves again. 

But I was thrilled that we had seen it! 

I had forgotten all about the TV documentary I’d watched about it, and declaring at the time that I must go and see it before it disappears. 

Note to self — I must write things down. 

We also saw loads of large stranded jellyfish — they’d dried out on the beach and were floating dead on the incoming tide.  We wondered if their life cycle had come to an end and that was why so many of them had died.  It seemed strange that they could be caught out en masse like that. 

Borth seemed to take a long time to get near, but at last it did.  (Mind you, we were very tired by then so everything seemed to take a long time.)  There were man-made rock islands on the beach, as at Elmer near the very beginning of this Trek, put there to keep the beach in place and prevent flooding.

The tide was now up to the sea side of these islands, and the beach was shingle on the shore side.  So we climbed up to the prom which was along the top of the sea wall, and walked along until we came to our car parked on the road alongside.

That ended Walk no.363, we shall pick up Walk no.364 next time on the prom at Borth.  It was five past six, so the Walk had taken us eight hours and ten minutes.    We had our tea and biscuits, then drove back to our caravan.