Hidden Treasures – The Walk

⊗Day 2: Flint to Ffynnongroyw

What to do when the trail is underperforming

When I booked this trip, I told Kate that our first few days of hiking might not be the most spectacular terrain. On the map it looked flat. On GoogleEarth it seemed a bit industrial. In person, it’s been both. But we know that good things are yet to come. Soon.

If you want to hike a long trail, there will be some less spectacular hikes. So, you must find the hidden treasures in the less exciting sections. Luckily, I have my favorite hiking buddy with me and she has a good eye for finding treasure.

Starting with the weather. Kate correctly noted that we once again had spectacular weather. 50 degrees, sunny and a strong breeze behind us.

Today’s route

We stayed in the hills above Flint, so we needed a taxi to get back to Flint Castle and follow the trail. We would meet a different taxi at 4pm in the small town of Ffynnongroyw, which is pronounced as it is spelled, but not the same way by the two people we met.

Our eleven mile section of trail promised to once again be as flat as a pancake as we continued along the estuary. Most of the trail ran over earthen dikes (dykes) that separated the estuarine mudflats and mudflats from the inland sheep pastures. The elevated trail gave us a good view of both sides.

The trail also provided some wooded sections with dirt, shady, and delightfully soft footpaths.

Time and tides

As we walked, the tide continued to rise, exposing the beds of deep, muddy tributaries lined with small boats lying on their sides on their keels. Too muddy to wade and with no footbridges, at each tidal current we would walk upstream to the first road crossing and then walk back down the other side to the coast.

Despite being a relatively small river, the River Dee has a long history of navigation. Not long ago, ships transported Airbus superjet wings built in a riverside factory down the river and across the English Channel to France for assembly. Much further back, coal, iron, lead, bricks and other industrial products came and went with the tides of the River Dee.

We passed quite a few interpretive signs documenting the history of fishing and the now abandoned boat docks on the tidal tributaries. And some other local landmarks.

Where all the children are below average

A stone circle (partially buried upright stones) like a small, disorganized Stone Henge was the first notable landmark. We approach expecting something druidic or Merlinesque. Instead, the sign noted that the stone circle had been installed in recognition of an “Eisteddfod held at Bagillt in 1889.”

Bagillt is a nearby town, so that part was understandable. Google informed us that «Eisteddfod» is Welsh for «sitting together» and is the name given to certain festivals celebrating language, literature, music and performance. We were continuing with all that.

We then read that the 1889 Eisteddfod commemorated by this particular stone circle featured electric lights, a local novelty. The Eistendfod was also significant because the first prize was not awarded. Apparently, all poetry submissions of 500 lines (minimum) on the (required) theme, the Star of Bethlehem, were considered of mediocre quality.

So yes, the Bagillt stone circle is a monument to mediocrity.

Celebrating crime

Then we passed another monument to «community pride.» It was a beautiful plaque, but someone had dumped a bunch of household trash around it.

monumental bureaucracy

The most interesting stop was «The Duke of Lancaster», a large passenger ship now permanently stranded above the waterline, its hull buried in concrete and surrounded by a high chain-link fence. The rusty ship was in poor condition but basically intact, with its huge lifeboats still hanging from the sides. It had dominated our view for an hour as we walked towards it.

The ship’s grounding did not come without a fight. Painted on a nearby storage unit in huge white letters was the message: “Trade at this site was ruined by pirates.” I think the message meant that government hackers put an end to the owner’s business dreams.

The Duke initially served as a ferry. Later, it became a passenger ship known for its wild disco parties. It then tried (and failed) to become a wedding venue and a Halloween-themed party, a combination that makes a lot of sense. It then became a graffiti gallery, with artists like Kiwi, who I’m sure is a well-known name somewhere.

At some point after the graffiti attempt, an anonymous government agency stepped in and shut everything down. A laminated sign on the chain-link fence suggested we “buy the book to find out more.” But we felt like we knew everything we needed to know. Plus, we had almost run out of water and needed to keep going.

Back to the sidewalks

The day ended with a few more miles of concrete. During that stretch, we caught up with a young couple who we had passed several times since Flint. This time we caught their attention and asked if they were also walking the Wales Coast Path.

Yes, they said, but only a few days at a time. That night they would return home. So far, we haven’t met anyone who has hiked more than a day on the trail.

Denied

We entered Ffynnongroyw with sore feet and climbed out of the water. We arrived about two hours before our scheduled taxi ride to a motel in Rhyl, so we headed into town in search of a cold drink, a soft chair and a bathroom. The only place open was some sort of combination tea room and church-affiliated thrift store, but only the latter was open when we arrived. They kicked us out of the tea room and scolded us for dirtying their newly cleaned floors. Without water or water, we left, thinking about Matthew 25:37.

We walked back to the meeting place and took a nap atop a wide stone wall that surrounds the parking lot. An hour later, we woke up with stiff legs, sore feet, and our first hint of hiker hunger.

Hope

We headed down the road towards the seaside resort town of Rhyl, where our taxi driver promised us a great selection of restaurants in Rhyl. A hot shower and a great meal sounded perfect.

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