Walk 335 -- Llanfairfechan to Menai Bridge

Ages:  Colin was 71 years and 78 days.  Rosemary was 68 years and 220 days.

Weather:  Warm with a lovely cooling breeze.  Occasional threatening clouds but they never came to anything.
Location:  Llanfairfechan to Menai Bridge.
Distance:  14 miles.
Total distance:  3458 miles.
Terrain:  Concrete / gravel / grassy paths at the top of the beach.  Two difficult sections of rocky beaches where the path had disappeared.  Some roads / pavements / cycleways.  Some footpaths through fields.  A lovely well-looked-after wooden pier.  A difficult section of a new but badly constructed path through woods — there were too many steps and the signage was poor so we got lost.  Ended the Walk crossing the spectacular Menai Bridge.  First half of the Walk was flat, second half, when we were tired, was quite undulating.
Tide:  Coming in, then going out.
Rivers: No.407, Afon Dulas.  No.408, Afon Aber.   No.409, Afon Ogwen.  No.410, Afon Cegin.  No.411, Afon Menai (Menai Strait).
Ferries:  None.
Piers:  No.34 Bangor — which is ½Km long!
Kissing gates:  Nos.443 to 451 spread out along the route.
Pubs:  The ‘Tap & Spile’ in Bangor which we visited the next day for a pub lunch.  Colin drank Purple Moose ‘Glaslyn Ale’ and Caledonian ‘Flying Scotsman’.  I drank Weston’s ‘Old Rosy’ cider.
‘Cadw’ properties:  None.
Ferris wheels:  None.
Diversions:  None.
How we got there and back:  Yesterday we towed our caravan from Malvern to a small site on a remote farm in the middle of Anglesey.  This morning we drove to Menai Bridge and found a parking space in a residential street.  We caught a bus to Bangor which crossed Thomas Telford’s famous bridge, only just fitting between the pillars of the towers.  Then we caught another bus to Llanfairfechan where we walked from the village down to the seafront.
At the end we came to our car parked below the famous Menai Bridge.  We drove out of town to a layby overlooking the Menai Strait before having our tea and chocolate biscuits.  Then we drove back to our caravan at Bodnolwyn Wen.

The visibility was very clear today — down on the beach at Llanfairfechan we could see far further than when we were last there a few weeks ago.  The views in both directions were spectacular.

We followed the seafront prom westwards.  We crossed a stream into a nature reserve, the first of many.  We passed a boating pool and a row of pretty houses  We had excellent views of Anglesey and Puffin Island which seemed to get ever closer.  We sat on a bench to take in these vistas, and to eat our pasty/sausage roll which were still warm despite being bought in Menai Bridge, before the bus ride, more than two hours ago.

A sand-spit on the beach was out of bounds from March to July, so a notice on a padlocked gate told us, because of nesting birds.  From August to February the beach is accessible, but only at low tide because the birds roost on the spit at high tide.  We could see and hear them on a soon-to-be-covered spit further out — they were making a heck of a row!  We discussed this with several local dog-walkers that we met.

The sun came out and it got hot, but there was a blissful breeze.  We came to a post telling us how far away the nearest benches were and in which direction.  What a good idea!  At the moment we didn’t need a bench, but many’s the time when we’ve needed one and can’t find one.  That is what I call useful information.  We passed many pools to our left and to our right.  The sea wall has been breached in places to allow salt-marsh to reform, a habitat which is in short supply since many salt-marshes have been drained for farming.

We were on a good track along the top of the beach, on our own as usual.  We saw a castle in the distance, and Colin remarked that it looked too modern to be real.  And it was.  It was Penrhyn Castle, built nearly two hundred years ago by George Hay Dawkins to show off his wealth.  He went against the fashion of the time for Gothic architecture, and built his ‘castle’ in his idea of a Norman style.  Shortly after it was finished, he died.  It was passed down through various members of his scattered family until, in the early 1950s, it was taken over by the National Trust.  (In lieu of death duties, as was Hardwick Hall in Derbyshire where Colin was born?)

We passed slate fences — we saw them all along and came across them time and time again in this north-west part of Wales.  We also came across a row of concrete blocks and stones along the beach.  We thought they dated from the Second World War and wondered if they were once part of a building.

We came to a wooded area with a pretty wooden footbridge across a stream.  There were more dog-walkers now because we were near a car park, and Colin was in his element!

There were also loads of gulls flying noisily over — I wonder where they were going? We then crossed over a gas pipeline, according to a notice, and saw a small tortoiseshell butterfly resting on the track.  Colin had forgotten his camera, so I took the photos and was quite pleased with the results.

We were on a good track which suddenly came to an end.  This was puzzling because we had been following the Wales Coast Path signs and were definitely on the right path.  We wondered if the sea had had anything to do with the lack of trail?  The tide was right in so the rocky beach was narrow.

It was covered in broken paving slabs which only added to the mystery — but they were a great help in negotiating this uneven terrain.  We went right down to the water’s edge because the beach was flatter there.  But then the slabs ran out and walking became more problematic.  It was only for a short way, soon we were able to get up on to a grass bank and found ourselves on an established path once more.

We sat on some rocks to eat our sarnies.  We were completely by ourselves on this pleasant beach with fantastic views in wonderful weather — and it’s the height of the holiday season!  (All schools are now on holiday.)  We couldn’t get over the fact that we had successfully escaped the crowds.  While eating, we idly watched an oystercatcher and some plover chicks darting about looking for food.
We carried on.  The path continually improved until we got to a car park.  There was a Wales Coast Path sign pointing back the way we had come, there were no notices about a break which had looked pretty permanent to us when we were back there.  We chatted to an old man with several dogs in the car park.

A Wales Coast Path sign pointed us inland up a lane, but we preferred to follow a public footpath on the beach round a nature reserve.  There had been lots of erosion, there was a fence hanging halfway down a small cliff.  We could just about get past this sand cliff because the tide had started to recede.

Studying the map earlier, we had been hopeful of taking a short cut through the Penrhyn estate (it would have saved us several miles of walking) particularly as the castle and grounds have belonged to the National Trust for the past sixty years.  We could see an ornate bridge across the river, but found it to be completely inaccessible.  We wandered through a bramble wood looking for a way up to it, but only came to a high wall and impenetrable undergrowth.  I sat on a bench in the shade while Colin found a bush to hide behind so he could change his pad.  I took a close and careful look at the map, and realised we hadn’t a hope of taking our planned short cut.  You would think that the National Trust would have co-operated with the Wales Coast Path authorities when the Path was being established to open up a footpath next to that bit of coast, wouldn’t you?  But no, we were expected to walk round three sides of the estate adding several miles to the route.
We came out into the lane, then we had to walk inland and uphill — in this heat.  Not nice!  We came to a mainer road, and discovered that the Wales Coast Path was signposted to turn off it and go even further inland.  We decided that was too far and continued down the main road.

Very soon we ran out of pavement and had to do a bit of traffic-dodging for a while.  We realised that was why the official path went even further inland.  But it wasn’t far — we passed a redundant drinking fountain in the wall, crossed a river and turned off almost immediately along a road we were mildly amused to find was called “Tre Felin”.  (No trees were being felled, thank goodness.)

This led us under a railway viaduct (the railway had been with us ever since Conwy) and then alongside it through what looked like a small industrial estate.  We continued up a steep gravel track where we came across an unusual and very pretty flowering plant.

Then we had to cross the A5 — not easy but we managed it without mishap.  We took a footpath across a field which had a stone air-vent in it, so we knew where the railway was — under our feet!  We crossed a lane which was even more tricky than the A5 because of speeding traffic and high hedges.
We crossed another field, and at the end of it we found a dumped armchair.  We were looking for somewhere to sit and eat our apples, but this upholstery was soaked because of recent rain.  Far too wet to use as a seat, so we sat on a large stone nearby to consume our fruit.  We had forgotten all about the railway, and hadn’t realised we were sitting almost next to the tunnel exit because it was hidden behind bushes and brambles.  All of a sudden a train came out with a great Whoosh! and made us both jump!

The footpath continued round the back of a much larger industrial estate between two menacing fences through which brambles were growing like fangs.  We wished we had a machete with us, but it would probably have been classed as an offensive weapon if we had.  So it was just as well — we managed to get through without too much trouble.  It was very noisy, but not from the factories.  There was a cacophony of squawks from the local gulls who seemed to object to us walking through.  I expect they had young nearby, and we know from our days living in Bognor that gulls can be very aggressive when protecting them.
We came out from behind the industrial estate, and I immediately got disorientated — I can’t see the map properly when I’m tired.  So Colin took over the navigation.  He led us down a hill to a footbridge in a pretty glade on a cycleway which was a disused railway leading to Penrhyn Harbour.  It was the loveliest section of the whole Walk, and we both felt calm and happy under the trees.

We met a man on his bike who stopped to chat.  He asked us where we were going, as many people do, and then explained in great detail our route to the Menai Bridge.  We hadn’t asked him to, and it wasn’t the route we intended taking anyway!  Sometimes people are just too helpful.

There was a short tunnel under the A5 which we had to cross again.  This was much better than trying to cross the actual road, especially as there was quite good official graffiti art painted on the tunnel sides.

Then we crossed the river on what we could see was a converted railway bridge.  There was an ornate bridge at the end of the cycleway leading into the Penrhyn estate.  That is where we would have emerged if we had been able to take a short cut across the National Trust property.  We were at Penrhyn Harbour, a pretty place now only used by leisure craft.

We had to walk along the road into Bangor, but this was by the water so it was quite pleasant.  We bought ice creams and sat on a wall to eat them.  We continued through an estate of new houses, some of them still for sale, until we came to Bangor Pier.  Bangor has a lovely pier — 20p only for OAPs — when you walk along it looks as if it will take you all the way to Anglesey, but of course it doesn’t.  It is half a kilometre long!

It was built in 1896 and restored in 1988 after being closed for about fifteen years.  We loved the ornate onion domes on the entrance kiosks.  We are so pleased it was saved from demolition back in the 1970s.  Part of the fund-raising, as at Southwold in Essex, included putting up memorial plaques.  We chose one to photograph which amused us and wasn’t about death.

It was quite breezy on there this July day, but not cold.  All the kiosks were occupied by businesses, but not all of them were open including the tea room which closed at 4pm.  In July?  We were disappointed because we would have loved a cup of tea.  There were a lot of people about, so they must have lost quite a bit of business through shutting so early in the height of the season.  There were children all along catching crabs, it seems to be the latest seaside craze.  (Poor crabs!) 

Coming off the pier, having walked the length of it and back, we could see no Wales Coast Path notices.  So we climbed quite steeply through some gardens to a road which continued uphill.  The road was narrow and steep, and it was one-way with cycling allowed both ways.  It also had a footpath alongside so we were not bothered by traffic.  We came to steps leading up to a viewing bench, but the bench had a  WET PAINT  notice on it.  We tentatively touched it, and the paint was dry so we sat on it to eat our chocolate.  We had a lovely view across the Menai Strait, but young oak trees were beginning to obscure the vista.  I hope something is done about them soon.

Back on the road we climbed still further, passing an open space with a ring of standing stones.  Were they genuinely ancient or a modern copy?  We rather thought the latter.  We walked along the top of this field instead of the road, though the Wales Coast Path signage didn’t tell us to until we got to the other end and found a sign pointing back the way we had come.  (It was for people going the other way.)
The road led into some houses and we seemed to be a long way from the sea.  We came to a Wales Coast Path sign pointing us into an estate, which was a surprise because on our map that road came to a dead end when it reached the beach.  We thought we would trust the signs this time, not wishing to continue through a suburban-type area and knowing we would soon join up with the main A5 again.  It led us down and down and down until we got to the beach.

And there stood a sign which really angered us — with the Wales Coast Path logo it said  “Low Tide Route”  and pointed back along a flat beach to Bangor!  Why didn’t they tell us at the other end?  We had just climbed an enormous hill unnecessarily!  It was really aggravating.

Fortunately we weren’t at a dead end, for on the same post pointing the other way was another Wales Coast Path sign.  This was not a flat path, it led us up the steep hill again facing directly into the setting sun so it was difficult to see where we were going.  After crossing two fields, the path led into a wood which was on the steep slope above the beach.  A “new” path had been hacked out, but it was not good.  There were too many wooden steps which must have cost a bomb to put in — we went up & down, up & down, up & down — surely it would have been better to flatten the ground a little?  The path was too narrow to walk comfortably, even in single file.  It was overgrown with weeds, and slippery roots & the stumps of young trees had not been dealt with.  Trip hazards were everywhere — was it made by amateurs?  We couldn’t see it lasting, one more season and it will disappear completely.  We were not enjoying ourselves at all, the going was much too challenging.

We came to a parting of the ways with no signage.  To our left a flight of wooden steps led up and up, disappearing amongst the trees.  We’d had enough of hills, so chose the older, more established path which led more or less straight on.  Mistake!  This path was just as difficult, and when we came to a single lamppost in the middle of the wood we wondered whether we were in Narnia!  Further on we came to a dead stop at a locked gate!  It was very tall with ugly spikes sticking out of the top — it really meant business.  So we tried a lower path we had seen further back which led towards the beach.  But there we came to another similar locked gate!  We had no choice but to return past the lamppost to the flight of wooden steps.  We climbed up & up & up to a kissing gate which, to our relief, was not locked.  We followed the continuation of the path round several fields until we emerged on to the road not much further on than we were before!
We were really fed up, that detour must have cost us at least an hour in time alongside a lot of wasted energy and frustration.  We had really lost faith in the Wales Coastal Path, it had let us down TWICE today! 
We marched off down the side of the A5, fortunately on a pavement.  We had put the map away by then, so we missed another path which led down, then up again.  There was no signage, so perhaps it was just as well.

Suddenly, so it seemed, we came upon Thomas Telford’s AMAZING BRIDGE!  It was built in 1826 as the first fixed connection between the island of Anglesey and mainland Wales.  It replaced a ferry which had run across the Menai Strait at that spot since the 13^th century.  Telford designed a suspension bridge, the first of it’s kind, because it had to be high enough for the tall ships of the day to pass underneath.  Also, the local geology made it impossible to build piers to support a conventional bridge.

As we crossed over to Anglesey, we marvelled at the beauty and engineering of the bridge.  We know it has been modified several times. But it is still basically the same bridge — built long before the invention of the internal combustion engine but safely carrying today’s heavy traffic over the Menai Strait day and night.  This morning we had crossed over it in a bus!

We continued down steep roads and alleys to the water’s edge, then along past a bowling green to where we had parked our car this morning.

That ended Walk no.335, we shall pick up Walk no.336 in Menai Bridge near the bowling green.   It was five past seven, so the Walk had taken us nine hours five minutes.  We drove out of town to a layby overlooking the Menai Strait before having our tea and chocolate biscuits.  Then we drove back to our caravan at Bodnolwyn Wen.

Walk 334 -- Conwy to Llanfairfechan

Ages:  Colin was 71 years and 62 days.  Rosemary was 68 years and 204 days.

Weather:  Extremely hot and sunny.
Location:  Conwy to Llanfairfechan.
Distance:  8½ miles.
Total distance:  3444 miles.
Terrain:  A lot of concrete and tarmac cycleways.  Some sandy beach.  Partially undulating.
Tide:  In.
Rivers: None.
Ferries:  None.
Piers:  None.
Kissing gates:  No.442 near Conwy Marina.
Pubs:  None.
‘Cadw’ properties:  None.
Ferris wheels:  None.
Diversions:  None.
How we got there and back:  We were staying in our caravan on a small farm near St Asaph.  This morning we drove to Llanfairfechan where we parked for free on the seafront.  We walked up to the station and caught a train to Conwy.  There we walked down to the bridge.
At the end we came to our car parked in the seafront car park.  It was extremely hot, so we moved the car a few yards so we could sit in the shade of a seafront shelter to have our tea and chocolate biscuits.  We returned to the caravan, which was in the shade of some trees by that time in the afternoon.  We took the awning down, and the next day we returned home to Malvern. 

A very successful trip! 

We started today’s Walk at the three bridges in Conwy, and walked along the waterfront which last Saturday had been busy with a European market.  There were stalls and street music, people from all over the Continent, and Britain’s smallest house was open where, for a modest fee, people were being shown round by a lady in traditional Welsh costume.  We had bought ourselves an ice cream and sat on a wall to listen to the music.  The atmosphere was very jolly.

Today it was much quieter, the smallest house was shut and the people walking about were mostly old grockles like us.  We came across two memorials.  One was to Keith ‘The Fish’ Robinson, 1940 – 2005, who traded at his fish stall on the waterfront for forty years and was also a lifeboatman.  The other was to the crew of a fishing vessel called Katy which was lost in January 1994.  Three fishermen never came back — Sam Rowlands-Roberts, aged 22, Cochyn Hughes, aged 30, and Robbo Hall, aged 20.

We walked through a stone archway in the ancient town walls and passed a fancy letterbox with a picture of a man on a horse blowing a horn.  A cycleway led us along the riverside.  Phew!  It was hot!  We came to a picnic table which was tucked just inside a wood in the shade!  It was the perfect spot, and we didn’t want to leave.

Sitting at the table we had a lovely view of the estuary naturally framed by trees.  Even though it was early and we had only just started the Walk, we lingered there and ate our pasty/quiche.
But we had to make a move in the end, and soon came out to a road.  We crossed a bridge over the A55 near where it came out of the tunnel.  This tunnel was opened in 1991, and was constructed to ease the major traffic problems in the little town of Conwy.  A tunnel was chosen in favour of a bridge so that the fabulous views of Conwy from the distance would not be spoiled.  (Wish they had thought of that in the 1950s when they were constructing the road bridge which hides Thomas Telford’s famous suspension bridge from view.)

A bored tunnel would have to be laid very deep and the cost would be prohibitive.  The idea of an immersed tube tunnel was muted — it originated from the sewer pipes which are led across the bottom of a number of rivers in this country.    It was thought that if such a pipe was enlarged widthwise to accommodate a two-lane highway and tall enough for all kinds of road traffic to pass through, then that would make a much more cost-effective tunnel.  Six reinforced concrete units were built inside a bunded cofferdam basin on the western shore of the river.  These were then lowered into place guided by divers.  It was sealed and drained.  It has been such a success that other such tunnels have since been constructed — eg. under the Medway in Kent.

The area where the tunnel was constructed was turned into a nature reserve, and the cofferdam basin was converted into a large marina.  We came to this marina very soon.  Looking at the moored yachts we concluded there was a lot of money about!  There was new housing on most sides of it — lovely when there is no wind, like today, but personally I couldn’t stand that constant plinking of ropes against masts which you get in yacht basins.  It’s a form of torture for me!

We came to the mouth of the river.  The tide was coming in fast, and a lot of boats were using the high water to go out to sea.  We rounded the corner on the beach and left the river behind.

We continued along the sandy beach, but it was a bit soft so it wasn’t easy walking.  But a slight breeze made it almost pleasant in the hot sun.  We passed sea holly and a huge jellyfish.  A heron down by the water was unperturbed by us walking by — it was too intent on looking out for its dinner.

The sand got too soft to walk comfortably, so we went up a path to the dunes.  This was OK at first, but it turned into soft sand as well so we returned to the beach.

We had to cross over some beach stones to get there, and came across some lovely fossilised coral in amongst them.  The beach sand was firmer now, and quite crowded as we passed a car park.

The beach ran out of sand eventually, so we had to take the sandy dune path.  It was somewhat undulating, and too soft.  We kept coming across people sunbathing in all sorts of nooks and crannies, and I almost trod on a man’s towel.  So we cut across to a main track, and that was better.  We passed some wild flowers, and after that it was tarmac all the way to Llanfairfechan.

We were on a cyclepath between the railway and the A55.  As we approached the next mountain the road and the railway both entered tunnels, but we didn’t.  The cyclepath led up over the railway tunnel and was cut into the side of the mountain.  We were in the shade, of course, because the sea was to our north.  And blessed shade it was too on this blistering hot day!  So, before we emerged, we sat down and ate our sarnies.

Reluctantly we moved on — out into the sunshine with traffic noise again, for the A55 had already come out from its tunnel.  Our path crossed over the railway again so that it was blocking our view of the sea.  But then there was an archway under the railway which led us out on to a little stony beach.  We wish we had known about it before, it would have been a much nicer place to sit and eat our lunch in the shade and out of earshot from the traffic.  We had good views of Anglesey and Puffin Island which seemed very close now.

It was a long hot walk down into Penmaenmawr where the A55 is only just up above the prom.  There was graffiti-type art painted on the wall below the road, it was colourful and bizarre — we liked it.  Further along we were delighted to find young children’s drawings of the local neighbourhood displayed along the prom.  I particularly liked one where the child had drawn a giant bird sitting on the top of one mountain and a group of tiny people on top of the next peak!  We bought ice creams and sat in the shade.

There is no real beach in Penmaenmawr, especially when the tide is in.  We passed a happy group of mothers and toddlers playing in a beautifully clean paddling pool — no sign of any algae as at Llandudno.  We passed broom in brilliant flower, and Puffin Island was now very clear.  It was glorious!  (Except the sun was too hot for us — neither of us cope very well in hot sun.)

Penmaen Mawr mountain loomed.  Now here was a challenge for the engineers designing the A55, the railway and the Wales Coastal Path!  The mountain, which was still being quarried, seemed to come down straight into the sea.

Up until the mid-nineteenth century the only way to pass was along the sands at low tide, or by a treacherous track across the cliff face.  As we came into the lee of the mountain we reached Brundrits Wharf.

The mountain was first quarried for its stone, used to make cobbles, in 1832.  Then the stone was taken away by sea, so that is when the wharf was built.  When the railway came in 1847, sidings were constructed so that some of the stone could be carried away by rail.  Nowadays the stone is taken away by lorry.  The railway sidings were redundant by the 1940s, and the last ship to carry stone from Brundrits Wharf sailed away in 1960.  Most of the artefacts were demolished in the 1980s to make way for the road.

We began to climb, a zigzag path under the A55.  It was certainly noisy when we were under the road, the rumble of the traffic was continuous.  We emerged next to the road which was still higher than us and seemed to be held together by huge bolts.  Next we were higher than the road and going over a bridge.

The railway and road then went through tunnels but we had to climb over the top, there were no tunnels for us.  There were a confusing number of signs, we didn’t know which way to turn.  We could have crossed the road and walked alongside it, but we elected to use the raised cycleway where it was cooler, quieter and much safer.

Despite the fact it was all tarmac and concrete, the wild flowers still managed to flourish.  Nature always has its way!  We route-marched on even though we were both very hot.  We just had to keep going with determination, otherwise we would have wilted.  We were relieved that today was a shorter Walk than usual, and the last this session.
The signs were confusing as we came down into Llanfairfechan.  We nearly crossed the railway, but halfway up the bridge ramp we realised it was only access to a bus stop on the A55 with no way further on.  We eventually found our way through residential streets using our initiatives because there were not enough signs, and through a little tunnel under the railway.

We came out on the prom.  Colin was relieved, “Is this where our car is?” he asked.  Yes, it was a little further along the seafront.  Thank goodness for that!  We were delighted to see more children’s drawing on display along the prom, but we were really too hot to appreciate them properly.

That ended Walk no.334, we shall pick up Walk no.335 in Llanfairfechan on the seafront.   It was three o’clock, so the Walk had taken us five and a half hours.  We moved the car a few yards so we could sit in the shade of a seafront shelter to have our tea and chocolate biscuits.  We both have sunburnt faces, we can’t understand people deliberately sitting out in this hot burning sun!
We returned to the caravan, which was in the shade of some trees by that time in the afternoon.  We took the awning down, and the next day we returned home to Malvern. 

A very successful trip!

Walk 333 -- Conwy historical

Ages:  Colin was 71 years and 59 days.  Rosemary was 68 years and 201 days.

Weather:  Very hot and sunny.
Location:  An historical day in Conwy.
Distance:  0 miles.
Total distance:  3435½ miles.
Terrain:  Lots of spiral staircases in the castle, and steep steps on the town walls.
Tide:  Going out.
Rivers: None.
Ferries:  None.
Piers:  None.
Kissing gates:  None.
Pubs:  None.
‘Cadw’ properties:  No.4, Conwy Castle.  No.5, Plas Mawr — which we forgot to visit!
Ferris wheels:  None.
Diversions:  None.
How we got there and back:  We were staying in our caravan on a small farm near St Asaph.  This afternoon we drove to Conwy where we parked in a huge ‘overspill’ car park.
At the end we drove back to our caravan. 

Conwy  Castle 

Conwy Castle was built in the 13^th century by Edward I as part of his ‘iron ring’ of fortresses around North Wales.  It was the only one of his castles he actually finished, and cost a phenomenal amount of money.  It withstood a siege soon after it was built, Richard II hid in it temporarily at the end of the 14^th century, and it was held by Owain Glyndŵr’s forces for several months a couple of years later.  In the 17^th century it was held by the Royalists for four years before surrendering to the Parliamentarians.  They ‘slighted’ the building, and it has been a ruin ever since.

Some restoration work was carried out at the end of the 19^th century and beginning of the 20^th when Conwy became popular as a haven for artists.  In the present day it is managed by Cadw, and is a World Heritage Site.  UNESCO considers Conwy Castle to be “one of the finest examples of medieval architecture in Europe”.

For us it was one of the best castles we have visited!  We were amazed just how much of the original building is still there.  We didn’t climb all of the towers because it was too exhausting (or perhaps we’re getting too old!) but we had wonderful views over the town and estuary from the top of those we did manage to stagger up.

Colin, of course, was more interested in the gulls which were nesting in several nooks and crannies in the ruins.

The  Town  of  Conwy 

Conwy is a fortified town, and the walls enclosing it were built at the same time as the castle.  They enclose the town on three sides leaving the fourth open to the estuary.  This was so that ships carrying soldiers and supplies could safely dock, overlooked by the high towers of the castle.

The town itself is very compact, rows of terraced houses squashed inside the high walls.  In fact, one house on the quayside boasts that it is the smallest house in Britain.

Again we were amazed at the state of preservation of the town walls.  It is possible to walk all round on top of them, which we did, but you need a good head for heights.  They are very high and the paths are narrow, steep and uneven, but the views make it worthwhile.  We could even see the railway station far below from one section.

The  Three  Bridges 

The view of the estuary from the castle battlements reveals three bridges side by side across Afon Conwy.  The middle bridge, the view of which seems to be masked by the other two bridges, is the most ancient.  In fact it is the oldest suspension road bridge in the world!  It was built by Thomas Telford in the 1820s to replace a ferry which, up until then, was the only way to cross the river at this point.  He designed the towers at each end as turrets, complete with arrow slits, to complement the 13^th century castle adjacent to the bridge.  Originally it had a wooden deck, but this was replaced by an iron roadway in the late 19^th century.  Until 1958 all traffic had to use this bridge, but then it was superseded by a more modern road bridge built to the north of it.  It became a footbridge when the new bridge was opened.  In 1999 a tunnel was constructed under water, and nowadays the bulk of traffic bypasses Conwy by travelling through that.  (More about the tunnel in Walk 334.)  The 1958 road bridge is still used by traffic wishing to stop in Conwy, and we crossed the river by this method several times.

In the present day Telford’s suspension bridge, a Grade I listed structure, is managed and maintained by the National Trust.  You have to be a member or pay to walk across it, so we didn’t.

The box bridge to the south of Telford’s bridge is a railway bridge.  It was built in the 1840s to carry the North Wales Coastal Line across the Afon Conwy.  It was originally supposed to be a suspension bridge complementary to Telford’s road bridge, but when Robert Stephenson was appointed chief engineer he realised that no suspension bridge would bear the weight of a steam engine.  He designed a wrought iron box bridge and built it here as a prototype of the Britannia Bridge which was to carry the railway over the Menai Strait.  After the original Britannia Bridge was destroyed by fire in 1970 (more about that in Walk 348) the single span box bridge at Conwy remains the only railway bridge of its type in the world.  Again it has towers complete with turrets and arrow slits at each end as if it was part of the adjacent medieval castle.

We travelled across it in a train when we were setting up Walk 332.  We parked in Conwy in the early morning and caught the first train of the day to Colwyn Bay.

Plas  Mawr 

Plas Mawr is an Elizabethan townhouse built by a rich member of the gentry called Robert Wynn.  It was constructed in the middle of Conwy towards the end of the 16^th century.  He built it to show off his wealth and apparently entertained lavishly.  The house still retains much of the intricate and colourful plasterwork with which it was decorated more than four hundred years ago.  This includes a number of symbols, badges, heraldry, topless ladies and severed heads!
In the present day the house is managed by Cadw.  We forgot to go there when we were touring round Conwy, but we did visit it a couple of weeks later when we were walking further west.  We took lots of photos inside and out, but somehow they all got deleted.  One day we’ll visit it again and rectify this.