Boarding the bus at Bangor, the driver asks why I’m travelling west to Church Bay in Anglesey.
“I’m hiking the coast of Britain, aiming for Liverpool this week.”
“Liverpool? Be easier to start from here and head east.”
He has a point.
Two buses later, after a long journey from home, I set off on the 11 miles to Camaes Bay, passing several hikers who are finishing for the day.
The approach to Carmel Head is beautiful, which explains the number of walkers, drawn out of hibernation with the arrival of spring.
Skerries Lighthouse is just visible offshore.
Rounding the headland, there’s evidence of mining activity, together with two navigational daymarks, which line up with a third marker on West Mouse islet (the “Three White Ladies”) to identify a dangerous reef.
The decommissioned Wylfa nuclear power station dominates the approach to Cemaes Bay.
I reach the water mill at Cestyll Garden, partly designed by Princess Victoria. The signs and fences are not welcoming and it’s late in the day to be climbing.
Gareth, the owner of Dolydd campsite is very welcoming, offering a breakfast cuppa despite my warning of an early start. This is my first campsite with Classic FM piped through to the shower block. He has style.
Next day
Cemaes Bay hosts one of the Time and Tide bells — familiar to me now — warning of rising sea levels.
A white quartzite sea stack, named after the ghost Ladi Wen (another “White Lady”), entices me down to the beach at Porth Padrig.
Llanbadrig Church sits alone, close to the edge of the cliffs.
The stained glass windows and tiles feature geometric shapes and floral patterns rather than the traditional biblical icons, reflecting the refurbishment by a convert to Islam.
The path climbs through several valleys and shadows dramatic cliffs. This really reminds me of Cornwall, choughs and all. One stands in my way, calling loudly and flapping its wings, warning of my presence. I step aside as there must be a nest close by.
The rocky promontory of Dinas Gynfor is topped by a rather grim watchtower built in 1901 to commemorate the coronation of Edward VII.
Another steep descent leads to a ruined china clay factory.
Sweating after another steep climb, a chimney top appears above the gorse at Porth Wen, with a narrow track branching off down the hill towards it. I’m too tired to investigate in this heat so stay on the main path. Reaching the opposite side of the bay I realise my mistake. The branching path led to a Victorian brickworks, perfect for exploring.
Another hiker, Liz, is sitting enjoying the view. She gives me some good advice about avoiding vomiting fulmars and spotting dolphins by the birds feeding in their wake.
After a brief lunch in Amlwch, I’m struggling a little in the afternoon’s heat, given the challenging morning terrain and a 20-mile hike. Then I see it — my first dolphin — rising and falling through the water. I take a video for the family WhatsApp group but it’s barely visible. I don’t think David Attenborough will be calling. I’m happy though and revived.
It’s a relief to arrive at Nant Bychan Farm campsite for a welcome shower before collapsing into my tent. That was a wonderful section of the coast path, but tougher than I expected. Not for the first time.
Walk distance: 31 miles.
Total distance: 2,970 miles.
Great photos of some stunning scenery and there seems plenty of interest along the way on what looks like quite a tough hike, Tony. I’m not familiar with this area at all so it’s been really interesting to follow your posts on this section. Cheers Rich.
Thanks Rich. There’s a lot to explore, which you no doubt will when you get round there.
Beautiful. And now I’ve seen another Time and Tide bell! Out of the water this time.
I would love to hear them chime. I always seem to arrive at low tide. Perhaps the next one.