Day 12: Llyn Rhos Ddu to Aberffraw
Do it
Last night’s stay was on a working farm, or so the sign at the end of the driveway said. But I don’t remember seeing any animals while we were there. And when I asked the farmhand who picked us up at the designated parking lot to tell me about the farm, she replied, «I’m just the driver.»
When he dropped us off at our accommodation, a new two-story building, there was no one there to let us in. So we sat on the porch and waited while the driver looked for the owner. Who said he didn’t know anything about our dinner arrangements, but he let us in. They were supposed to take us to a local restaurant, according to our provider.
I reminded him of this in the two voicemails I left him during the day, as instructed by our provider. But when I reminded the owner in person while we were just inside the door, she replied, «Well, aren’t they the cheeky monkeys? Is this the first time I’ve heard of them?» But she laughed as she said it.
Then he immediately started arguing with the driver (we weren’t asked for opinions) about which of the three food options would be worse, the overpriced one (he couldn’t say how expensive, as he’d never been there), the «chippy» (fish and chips, we assumed, which wouldn’t have gluten-free options, he said), or the grocery store (which would probably be closed and was too far away, about 5 miles).
Finally, when we were finally able to talk, we convinced her that we could settle for a bowl of cereal (my favorite food on bachelor’s nights) from the breakfast bar. She seemed skeptical, but she and Kate disappeared into the kitchen to see what else was available and returned with baked beans and melted cheese on gluten-free bread.
I was left with a mix of Corn Flakes and Rice Krispie’s (I used the leftovers from both boxes), surprising the owner that I could save two, count ‘em, TWO (British-sized) bowls of cereal in one go. I probably could have finished an entire box if she hadn’t saved the milk after my second bowl.
Our host was very friendly, our room was clean and quiet, and we had the whole place to ourselves, so we fell asleep at 8:00 listening to the wind and rain on the windows.
Walk wet again
We woke up to more wind and rain. The forecast called for light rain until approximately 10:00 am, with winds over 25 mph throughout the day and a high of 40 degrees. Kate woke up with a sore throat and a strange pain in her ankle, listened to the hiking conditions for our 13-mile day, and began to ponder traveling with our luggage to our next stop.
But when we had breakfast and drove to the trail, she decided she wanted to walk. We knew we would pass a small town with a cafe about halfway there, where she could catch a taxi if she needed to stop. It’s good to have options.
We started walking at the Llyn Rhos Ddu grass sheaf sculpture, erected to commemorate the marram grass that was originally grown there for sand dune stabilization. The grass was also used in a local basket and mat making industry. The basket makers are gone, but the dunes and sand remain. Today we would see a lot of wet sand.
Newborough Warren Dunes and Forest Natural Area
Kate left the parking lot at a breakneck pace. I was cold. I ran after it, shouting into the headwind that I wouldn’t mind just walking. The path skirts some low dunes in the general direction of the coast, bordering a large pine forest. As we approached the beach, the path forked: one branch headed towards the coast and the other towards the forest. The rain had a bit of stinging sleet, so we chose the forest, to protect ourselves from the wind and rain.
Before I was hit with twenty minutes of sleet, I hoped to walk along the beach and visit Ynys Llanddwyn, a tidal island with a panoramic lighthouse, as well as the 5th 19th century home of St. Dwynwen, whom our driver called «a god of love.» The trail guide describes it somewhat differently, describing its legend as a curious mix of ancient Celtic and Christian beliefs. Dwynwen supposedly turned her lover into ice, could tell her admirers whether their partners had been faithful, and somehow still qualified as a Christian saint.
I wanted to check out Dwynwen’s Tidal Island mainly because I think it might be one of the default screensaver scenes for my FireTV app. But low clouds and rain made it almost invisible, high tide made it inaccessible, and wind and sleet made anything beyond the trees intolerable. And neither of us were excited about walking an extra mile to a rainy, causeway island on an already long day.
This is what Ynys LLanddwyn looks like in good weather, according to a travel website:
Trail Entertainment
On cold and rainy days we will bring any type of entertainment so that the kilometers fly by. Today we had little red. Technically, he was a white stick figure on a red background, but my brain dismissed him as «the little red man.» It caught our attention because it looked like the tsunami escape route symbol we had seen along the Oregon coast. Which was strange because the little red arrow was pointing towards the ocean, not away from it, which is generally a bad idea in a tsunami.
Our little red man baffled us for several miles, until we saw a blue and green one, and then an interpretive map. They were fitness route markers. The little redhead had just run through the forest.
Speaking of trail markers, Newborough Pine Forest had a variety of different trail signs. Oddly, the forest people had no interest in displaying any of the coastal path markers on a regular basis, which resulted in us standing out in the rain too much trying to open the Trail app and figure out which of the dozens of turns was ours. Here is one of the busiest signs that had Coast Path signs (the seagull), but pointing in three directions.
Later that day, a nice car buried up to its axle in mud in the middle of a pasture on an elegant estate provided us with entertainment. As we passed, we made up stories to explain how it got there. Toy car for a rich kid? A driver who obediently believes Siri’s instructions? Rich dad to his son: “Okay, you can drive the car, but only on the grass, if you watch out for that big garbage hole.”
after the rain
We were almost through the forest when the sun came up. And the road had turned inland, so the wind was now behind us. Suddenly, it was a different day. A few minutes later we found an almost dry bench. A perfect place to sit, rest and pack our raincoat.
After our rest, we left the forest and arrived in the small village of Malltraeth shortly after 11:00. I had been calling it Malibraeth because I had been having trouble reading my iPhone’s touchscreen in the rain. Kate didn’t think anyone would call her city «bad breath.» She was right.
Unfortunately, Malltraeth’s only cafe was closed. A sign outside said the owner was sick. We found a chippy on the main street but it didn’t serve lunch until 11:30. So, we sat outside at a picnic table, enjoying the sun and protection from the wind until the owner decided to fire up his grill. Which definitely wasn’t worth the wait. But the owner made up for it by being sullen. Cheeky monkey.
At lunchtime, Kate decided to walk the last three miles to our destination. The road rewarded his courage in abundance. Even the walk from Malltraeth was a pleasure. First, we followed an incredibly narrow, flower-lined lane between rows of houses back to the estuary. Then we passed the manicured backyards of some elegant beach houses and the reed-filled shoreline.
After that, the trail turned inland around another elegant estate whose owners must have been too well-connected and titled to be forced to yield to the trail. Those inland bypass walks always turn into map-hunting adventures with unmarked turns, multiple gates and all manner of stiles, and a maze of farm easements, private roads, and single-lane roads.
And that has made a difference
After stopping at an unmarked intersection, I noticed a trail map displayed a little further down a lane. We found the coastal trail, but also noticed a «permissive path» trail that was a little more direct than the official coastal trail. He said the permissive road passed through the private Bodorgan estate. We choose the road less traveled.
I have no idea who the Bodorgans are, but I now know two things about them: (1) they own A LOT of land; We walked for over an hour through their property and (2) they know how to make a trail. It had the best signage and trails we’ve ridden so far.
We started down a winding path through an overgrown forest. We then followed a crushed gravel road, straight as an arrow, smooth but firm, passing their huge stone house and barns. As the gravel road turned back to his mansion, signs directed us to a series of kissing gates and smooth, grassy paths through sprawling pastures (where we found the abandoned VW). Eventually, the trail took us to a vast area of grass-covered sand dunes, which interestingly had areas of standing water.
Sometimes the best trails are not the official ones.
Done and done
We left the dunes and crossed an old stone footbridge towards Aberffraw. It was only 2:00, but our taxi driver said he could pick us up in 10 minutes. But the pub didn’t let us into our room until 3:00, so we were forced to sit on their terrace drinking cold fizzy drinks (soda) and eating snacks for almost an hour.
