I catch the bus back to Amlwch and walk through the town towards Amlwch Port. After a long drive from Lincolnshire I know it’s rather late to start walking – nearly 5pm. But the sun doesn’t set until 10pm and I reckon I have time for a 9-10 mile walk.
At the end of the road that edges the harbour it takes me a few minutes before I find the familiar coast path signs. It’s good to be back on the trail again. The air is fresh after a day of heavy showers and I feel full of energy.
The path winds through rough heathland. In the distance is the lighthouse of Point Lynas (or Trwyn Eilian).
I come to a sign on a rock – FFYNNON EILIAN – its says. And adds, helpfully, ‘Site of the Holy Well’. At the base of the rock, by a cleft, is a small pool of water. For once it looks remarkably clean. I wonder if it’s clean enough to drink?
Nearby someone has placed a small statue of a holy man, but I can’t get a good photograph of him because he is overhung with weeds.
I walk onwards, passing a few returning dog walkers, and I really enjoy this part of the walk. The air is calm and the sea smooth.
Just before Point Lynas is a lovely bay – Porth Eilian – or I think this is what it’s called. Difficult to make out on my map because I seem to have smeared chocolate over the relevant letters!
It’s a popular spot, with a few cars parked on a nearby road, an elderly couple reading a newspaper on deck chairs, and a family having a picnic on the little beach. Unfortunately, at this moment it begins to rain. I stop and pull out my rucksack cover and don my waterproof jacket. The picnickers and the elderly couple begin to pack up and head for their cars.
As the drops splat around me, my good mood begins to fizzle out.
I think it is possible to walk right up to the lighthouse at the tip of Point Lynas, as the route appears to be a public right of way according to the map. But it’s not clearly marked as such and the rain dampens my enthusiasm for any unnecessary exploration. So I follow the signs for the official coast path, which turns off the road and cuts across the base of the peninsula.
The rain soon stops. The dampened fields start glowing with the ridiculously vivid colours of freshly watered grass, dotted with golden flowers. It’s beautiful. This is more like it.
The next section of the path is mainly field walking, with some wooded sections and walkways in muddy places to keep my feet dry. Very considerate.
It’s lovely and peaceful. After leaving Porth Eilian I meet nobody else for the rest of the walk…
… except for sheep. This mother and her two lambs are on the path. They don’t seem to want to move off it, but there isn’t room for all of us.
Out to sea is a long, thin island with a tower. Ynys Dulas. (The tower was built in 1821, I find out later, to store food and supplies for shipwrecked seamen. Really?) Beyond the island are the mountains of Snowdonia, blue and hazy in the evening light.
Further out to sea are large ships, gliding like ghosts in the vague misty area where the sky meets the sea. Are they heading for the port of Liverpool? I take a photograph using the maximum zoom available on my camera.
Onwards. I mustn’t linger because the light seems to be fading more quickly than I expected. Luckily the path is relatively flat and the walking is easy.
Then I come to a place where the path takes a right-angled turn away from the shore. What a pity. I look longingly across the farmland ahead and it seems perfectly possible to continue to walk along the coastline, if only the landowner would agree to let the path be routed across his land. What a shame.
I consider doing a bit of trespassing, but, with the light fading, I don’t dare.
After crossing an enormous field of sheep, I reach a high stile. And take advantage of the steps to stop for a break. Supper time.
I reach a track, which turns into a road. I follow a road for about a mile, during which time I meet nobody – not a car, not a tractor, not a walker. It’s like a ghost-land.
Just off the road I see a church with a lovely elegant spire. I consider going to take a look at it, but check my watch and decide I better carry on with my walk.
In a field are some cows with their calves. I’m on the safe side of the fence and decide to take a photo. The little calf is very curious and comes trotting, hesitantly, towards me.
But his mother is not happy. She pushes him aside and comes to investigate.
She’s definitely not happy. In fact, she looks pretty angry. And suddenly she gives out a great bellow – not a gentle mooing noise, but a great whoosh of sound, like a fog horn.
Grateful for the fence between us, I walk hastily away. I really, really don’t like cows. In this case I think the feeling is mutual.
The road comes to a dead-end at the shore of an inlet. Traeth Dulas, says my map. Now I follow the path along the edge of the water.
It’s very marshy and muddy in places and I wonder what it would be like if the tide was high. Impassable, maybe. But there seems to be no alternate route for the coastal path to take, so a walker would just have to get their feet wet.
I stop and take a self-portrait in front of the muddy creek. Behind me there appears to be a roadway running parallel to the shore. There is a ‘ford’ marked on my map at this point. I wonder if any vehicles ever come this way?
As the ground becomes firmer, I stop and take a photograph looking back the way I’ve just come. From this angle, I can clearly see a roadway, although I wouldn’t like to drive my car along it.
The path joins a narrow road for a short distance, before cutting off through fields. I know I need to cross over the little river that feeds into the inlet and I was expecting to find another ford, so I’m surprised to come across a newly built footbridge.
The next section of the walk follows drovers tracks and farm tracks and takes me over a hill and then down towards the main road where my car is parked in a lay by.
It’s 9pm; four hours since I set off on my walk and three hours since I last saw a fellow human being. Now, as always, it’s a shock to be back on a road with people and cars.
Miles walked today = 8.5 miles
Wales Coast Path so far = 954.5 miles
Total distance around the coast: 2,461.5 miles