My B&B host kindly offers me a lift and drops me off on the A4080, close to Llanfair PG. Today I face yet more road walking, but the day gets off to a promising start with a tree-lined footpath running alongside the road. Much better than walking IN the road.
I’ve had another restless night with fever and a cough, and no appetite for breakfast this morning. In fact, I’m feeling rather sorry for myself. But then I spot a Postman Pat van at the entrance to a grand drive. Those little vans never fail to raise my spirits, and they really do get everywhere.
After a mile or so, the coast path leaves the road, and heads inland. Inland! Normally I would simply continue along the coastal road, but there are no pavements and frequent fast-moving traffic, so I decide it’s much safer to follow the official route.
[Later I discover the reason the path doesn’t hug the coast is due to the beautiful stately home I could see across the Menai Strait yesterday – Plas Newydd. The estate does not allow walkers through its grounds, despite the house being owned by the National Trust. Such a pity.]
I walk across fields and nearly stumble over this sleeping sheep. Welsh sheep certainly seem braver – and less easily spooked – compared to normal sheep.
The path takes a right-angled turn, and I’m struck by an intriguing home-made sign. ‘Monument’ and an arrow. What monument?
I check my map, but the footpaths are a little confusing and I suspect the farmer has put up the sign to divert walkers from following a genuine right-of-way close to the farmhouse, but I dutifully follow the signs. And, although it involves a short diversion of the official coast path, I find the ‘monument’.
At first glance it looks underwhelming. A bog-standard barrow. Just a heap of grassy earth covering an ancient burial mound.
But it turns out to be far more exciting than I anticipated. This is Bryn Celli Ddu and is around 5,000 years old, with an internal chamber that you can walk into. Or, rather, you have to bend down and shuffle into. Still, it’s wonderful to be able to go inside.
Around the mound are some standing stones. Before it was a burial chamber it was probably a free-standing henge, and the whole structure is carefully arranged to admit light into the passage at the time of the summer solstice.
I spend some time inside the chamber and am really glad I diverted from the path and discovered this wonderful place.
Leaving Bryn Celli Ddu, I retrace my steps to pick up the Wales Coast Path again and walk along roads for about 2 miles…
… before arriving back on the shore at a place called Moel-y-don. It’s a pretty collection of holiday cottages, with a little bay punctuated by the ribs of a sunken boat.
I spot a picnic bench, and head towards it. Today, because I’m unwell, I promised myself frequent stops for rests. But am bitterly disappointed when two gentlemen hop out of a nearby car and make for the bench, getting there ahead of me.
They see me looking at them, and mistake my hostile glare for a friendly glance! Anyway, we strike up conversation. They live on Anglesey and are making their way around the coastal path in stages. I can’t resist snapping a photo as they lace up their walking boots.
The two local walkers confirm what I already suspected: Moel-y-don is a dead-end. It’s not possible to walk along the shore at this point and I must go back up the road to pick up the coastal path where it heads off down a track following a ridge of higher ground.
I walk quickly, expecting the two walkers to catch up with me at any moment.
This area is a strange mix of posh houses and rural deprivation. I pass a smashed up shed where I spot an open-air toilet.
Then the track leads down through farmland towards the coast. I come across another sleeping sheep lying on the path…
… although when I get nearer I realise it’s not asleep. It’s dead. Quite recently.
The path runs alongside a stream and takes me down to the foreshore, giving wonderful views across the Menai Strait.
Here I sit on a large stone and eat my lunch, surprised to find my appetite has recovered. It’s always tempting to hurry these breaks, but I force myself to rest for half an hour. While I wait, I watch a lone figure stumbling along the shingle beach and, very slowly, making his way towards me.
As the figure draws nearer, I realise it is Trevor, the only other guest in my B&B and a fellow walker. He is also walking the Wales Coast, but in the opposite direction to me, and we realised our paths would cross today. He decides to stop for lunch too.
Unlike me, Trevor is a proper walker, carrying everything on his back as he hikes to the next B&B along the route. And he has a decent packed lunch – sandwiches and crisps, while I only carry nuts, fruit and chocolate bars.
I tell him not to miss visiting the ancient barrow, and warn him he will soon meet the two local walkers, who I’m still expecting to catch up with me at any moment. He seems surprised and asks if I talk to everyone I meet. (Trevor is a Londoner!)
He, in turn, tells me about some enormous stepping-stones ahead, which are quite tricky. And also warns me it’s difficult to find the linking footpath that leads back to our B&B. (Later, I realise I should have paid more attention to this advice and asked him for clear directions.)
My half-hour is up. I leave Trevor enjoying his lunch, and set off on my trek across the shingle. It’s hard work.
I’m actually pleased to pick up the path at the other end of the beach, even though – yet again – it takes me away from the shore. Still, there are great views across the Menai Straits to the mountains of Snowdonia. I think Snowdon is the twin-peaked hump on the left of the photograph below.
I join a road along the shore and have high expectations of coming across a café or a pub. In fact, despite my recent lunch-break, I’m still feeling poorly and finding the walk rather an effort. Another break would be fine!
I walk past an old tug – or is it a dredger – sitting in someone’s garden. I love the colours on its hull – blue-grey streaked with rust. And I love its name – UPHILL STRUGGLE CAERNARFON. Yes, that sums up my recent walking to and from Caernarfon. Exactly.
I come to the end of the road. Disappointingly, I haven’t passed any cafes. And the promising building at the end – called the Mermaid Inn on my map – turns out to have been converted from a pub into a private house.
Sitting on the beach, I have another snack and a drink, and look across the water to Caernarfon, where the castle towers are silhouetted against the mountains.
Now I must leave the shore – again – and turn inland along a road, passing through farmland.
I wave to these young heifers. I’m not fond of cattle, finding them scary, but this gang look quite friendly. Still, I’m glad they’re on the other side of the fence.
After a mile of road walking, the path heads off through fields. But I can’t open the first gate. Is it locked or just rusted shut? I don’t know. I consider climbing over, but decide to follow the road a little further and pick up another footpath, which seems to follow a track, and should be easier to access.
The detour turns out to be a mistake. The ‘track’ is a rutted tractor route through farmland, with wide puddles and thick mud.
And, yet again, the public footpath is obstructed with fastened gates. I suppose I could have untied this piece of string, but it was easier to climb over the rickety fence.
It’s a relief to meet the official coast path again, although the route remains muddy. Of course this section of the Wales Coast Path is also called the Isle of Anglesey Coastal Path, and has rather a pretty logo on its signposts.
Now I’m keeping an eye out for the linking footpaths that should take me up to my B&B in Dwyran. There are two possible routes. The first one would take me across a field of cows with young calves. I decide not to risk it.
A short while later I think I find the second footpath, which seems to follow a raised bank. But there are no footpath signs and a fence bars the way. I could climb the fence, but someone has decorated it with an intimidating garland of barbed wire.
If I carry on a little further, I will reach the road and can walk back to my B&B. It’s a 2 mile diversion, but better than being trampled by furious cows or maimed by barbed wire.
Onwards.
I’d forgotten about the stepping-stones. They cross a river – the Afon Braint – at a place called Gatehouses Ford. The photo below doesn’t really do them justice…
… because they’re enormous. Each block is the size of a small car. Well, almost. And the tide is low, so the stones stand high above the water, with wide gaps between. Not so much a step to get across, more like giant strides.
According to my B&B host, these stones are 3,000 years old. Wow. They’re pretty impressive. And a significant injury awaits if you fall off one of them.
I cross the stones with some difficulty, but arrive safely on the other side. From here a pretty path takes me towards the road.
The path turns into a track and eventually I meet the main A4080. The coast path turns left at this point, but I turn right, heading towards Dwyran. Luckily traffic is sparse, as there are no pavements. I find this last stretch of my walk, although only a mile, long and tough. On the way I pass a garage-cum-village-shop.
Later I discover this garage is the only shop in Dwyran, and sells bottles of cold coke and large slabs of chocolate at excellent prices!
Back in my B&B, I drink a cup of tea while looking at the view from my window, where I can see the sunset turning the mountains of Snowdonia a dusky-pink. It’s been a tiring but interesting day. And I wonder what happened to the two local walkers, who never caught me up after all. Maybe they were heading in the other direction along the path? I forgot to ask.
The mystery of the stepping-stones! It’s surprisingly hard to discover good, factual information about these wonderful stones. Are they really 3,000 years old? Perhaps the variety of names doesn’t help.
- Gatehouses Ford and Stepping Stones on my OS map,
- locally known as the Giant Stepping Stones,
- or maybe the Rhuddgaer Stepping Stones,
- or even the Afon Braint Stepping Stones.
Eventually I find a post on ‘Afon Braint Stepping Stones’, by Graham Steven on his blog GeoTopoi. Someone in the comments says they can remember the stones being put in place only about 15 years ago (17 years now). But they are marked on an OS map from circa 1889. Perhaps the new stones replaced old stones that had been there for 3,000 years? You would have thought there would be some decent information provided about this striking feature on the path.
Miles walked today = 13 miles
Wales Coast Path so far = 835.5 miles
Total distance around the coast: 2,342.5 miles
Route:
Ruth first and foremost YOU are a “proper” walker (whatever that may be). What people carry on their back is no indicator of how committed they are. I think that after 6 years and 2300+ miles nobody could ever accuse you of being a novice!
Anyway, I ‘ummed’ and ‘rrrrddd’ about visiting that burial chamber, ……wish I had now.
Thank you Alan. I’m a “proper” walker? Yes. Maybe 🙂
I don’t normally visit sights off the path, but that was one worth making a detour for. Sorry you missed it.
I too would call you a proper walker – and always entertaining. I hope the dreaded lurgy didn’t pull you down for too long.
Ruth, what a delight to discover your blog – and of course to have met you at Taldrwst Farmhouse and along the path the next day. What is so impressive is that you have not only walked this enormous distance, but taken the time to explore and research places along the way such as the giant stepping stones (I said they were big!). I must say I will be a bit disappointed if they turn out to be just 17 years old instead of 3000. Looking forward to reading of your further adventures!
Hi Trevor and so glad you found my blog. Yes, I would like to believe the stepping stones are very ancient too. Was lovely to meet you. Was wondering how far you managed to get along the coast and whether you have reached the wonderful Llyn Peninsula yet?
I finished at Caernarfon the day after we met and travelled back home the day after. The Llyn Peninsula is next up, hopefully very soon. Your photos show how glorious it is – can’t wait to get started!
What an interesting walk. The burial chamber was a real discovery and the stepping stones, well done for keeping going when you were feeling ill too.
Anglesey is full of interesting surprises. Not only a beautiful place, but full of history too.
My reading is lagging well behind your progress around Anglesey, but glad you recovered and were able to continue. It’s not a big island, but as you say it is beautiful, historic and has a great range of habitats for nature. I’m looking forward to you discovering more places I need to visit!
I thought, naively, I would be able to ‘do’ Anglesey in 2-3 days. It’s a surprisingly large island and full of wonderful things.
Going to the stepping stones was something I intended to do on my most recent stay on Anglesey but I really needed a sunny day for my photos and the weather was a bit hit-and-miss. I’ve seen a couple of burial chambers on the island and to me it’s a case of ‘when you’ve seen one you’ve seen them all’ as they all seem to be the same, however seeing your photo of this one has inspired me to check it out next time – it looks a bit more interesting than the others I’ve seen.
Anglesey is indeed full of wonderful things. I thought I’d seen everything and been everywhere on the island as I spend so much time there, that was until I bought a book called ‘How to photograph Anglesey’ and realised there were lots of things and places I hadn’t seen. That book became my ‘bible’ and over the last four years I’ve followed it closely, taking my own versions of the photos in it.
You must see the stepping stone, Eunice. Even if they are modern they are still very impressive. And there is another burial chamber worth a visit I gather – although closed for renovations at the moment – at Porth Trescastell. Have you been there?
https://coastalwalker.co.uk/2016/05/19/aberffraw-to-rhosneigr/
I went to that one a few years ago, it was closed off by an iron gate but I didn’t need to go inside it anyway as it looked so small I could see most of it from the outside. I left there thinking ”Is that it?”
Oh, that’s disappointing.
Those stepping stones remind me of the ones at Dovedale in the Peak District. I’m 6ft1in and I had to stride from one to the next! Sad to see another dead sheep but, again, Postman Pat features in one of your Welsh walks! 🙂
Hi Olly. These stones were high – quite frightening really. I visited Dovedale in December but didn’t go over the stepping stones. Going back this December, so might give them a go – or not, depending how difficult they look.
Ah, I’m glad to hear you’re going back. Hopefully, it’ll be less busy in December. They shouldn’t be too bad if you do them at the start of your walk – otherwise, I remember there being a wooden footbridge closer to the car park.
All that did me in was the steep descent down steps to the River Dove, near Milldale. Not favourable in wet weather, going up or down. But lovely and peaceful at the bottom, beside the flowing water.
Rhuddgaer Stepping Stones are about 20 years old. I remember giving the guys a cup of tea when they replaced the old ones
Ah, thank you. More confirmation they’re not really very old. Strangely dangerous for something installed only 20 years ago 😆
But there have been stones there as a crossing for as long as is known as it is an drovers road to what was the Abermenai ferry or Tal Y Foel Ferry for Caernarfon. Some say Rhyddgaer stands for Crossing Ford
Glad to know it really was an ancient crossing, even if these actual stones were new. Thank you for the update.
The stones do look a daunting crossing. Especially for someone with short legs like me!