Beddmanarch Bay

The tide was in when I set off from the Penrhos Coastal Carpark at Beddmanarch Bay. The bay is shallow and almost empties when the tide goes out. I started making my way across the long barrage that separates the sea from Y Lasinwen, the inland sea. The Stanley Embankment was built between 1823-1824 by Thomas Telford, according to an Institute Of Civil Engineers plaque at its western end. I'm sure he had a few helpers too. This year will be its 200th anniversary. They built things to last in those days. About half way along, the sluice gate was allowing a torrent of water to flow from the bay towards the inland sea. I wouldn't fancy being in a canoe and getting sucked into that. At the other end of the embankment, I crossed the road and went through a gate in a stone wall. On the other side, a pedestrian crossing allowed me to traverse the main railway line into Holyhead. I had a slight panic when the webbing in my rucksack got caught on the safety gate to the railway line. For a moment or two I struggled to untangle myself while I stood on the railway side of the safety gate. All I needed was the London-Holyhead train to approach, late for the Irish ferry, picking up a head of steam, but I was fortunately saved from that scenario as I pulled myself free.

Four Mile Bridge

The inland sea was a lot bigger than I expected. Well, I suppose they do call it a sea. The path took me along its eastern side with fine views across it to Holyhead mountain beyond. The track wound around until I got to another barrage known as Four Mile Bridge. It gets its name from being four miles from Holyhead via the old road, before the Stanley Embankment was built. There's been a bridge here since 1530 and it used to be the only way of getting to and from Holy Island. It is tiny in comparison to the Stanley Embankment, but it too has a sluice gate and water was flowing into the inland lake as fiercly as it was at the Stanley Embankment. Two Cormorants were using the outflow to do a spot of fishing. They'd disappear under the fast flowing white water and then reappear a few metres downstream. I watched them for 5 minutes but I didn't see them catch anything. 

Country Walking

I followed a track running along the river from Four Mile Bridge. Almost immediately I was stopped by a boat in the middle of the footpath. I dredged my memories for similar occurrences, but I can't recall this ever having happened to me before. It didn't look at all seaworthy, but somebody cared for it enough to tie it to some trees at the side of the track. I managed to squeeze underneath the ropes and continue down the track. The river opened out into a wider, marshy area. The footpath creators had thankfully created long stretches of boards so that I didn't get my feet wet. There seemed quite a few birds out on the marshes. I could make out two Egrets, but my eyes weren't good enough to identify anything else. The area had the feel of a nature reserve. I wished that I'd brought my long lens so that I could have got a closer look at some of the birds. Quite abruptly, the track turned inland and I wouldn't see the sea again until I got to the bay at Traeth Llydan. A farm track brought me to a road and I followed this southwards towards Rhoscolyn. 

Gaiter Country

Curiously, the OS map had shown the Anglesey Coast Path splitting into two, further along the road. One option followed the road and the other went across country. When I reached this junction, a sign on the gate to the cross-country option said that the permissive path was closed from the 1st of October to the end of the 31st of January. 'That's an odd time' I thought. It doesn't coincide with any hunting season that I knew of, or nesting season for birds. I didn't have to travel far down the footpath to realise why it was closed during that period; it was extremely boggy. To be fair, it was only extremely boggy in places and the very worst bits had been boarded over. In fact a lot of it was lovely grassy tracks. Some of it though was so waterlogged that if I'd not been wearing gaiters I'd have got very, very wet feet. Despite the terrain it was a great track with a lot of birdlife to keep me company. It had a great feeling of isolation, although you could never really be sure whether there might be a house on the other side of the trees. I had thought about walking the 'road' option on my return journey, but I enjoyed the trail so much, I decided to come back this way despite the dampness. It eventually deposited me on to another country lane.

Traeth Llydan And Ty-Crainge

The narrow tarmac road eventually turned into a farm track that delivered me to the large farm at Tywyn Bryn-y-bar. I went through a gate into a very large field behind the farm. There had obviously been a lot of cows in the field since there didn't seem to be any part of it that didn't have a hoof print on it. It was muddy, but it could have been a lot worse. The uneven terrain made the traverse of the field tricky and I was grateful to reach the footpath into the woods on the other side. I could hear the sea now and it didn't take long to walk alongside the plantation and reach the bay at Traeth Llydan. It was deserted when I walked here yesterday, but today I could see a jogger at its south end and a couple walking their dogs just below me. I was disappointed to find it so crowded. I descended the wooden steps and started making my way westwards along the beach. I could see the mountains of Snowdonia today; yesterday they were slightly obscured by haze. The surf shack was open at the west end of the beach, but there wasn't a queue of customers. I think it was going to be a slow business day. 

The path along the coastline from Traeth Llydan to Ty-Crainge was just as good as yesterday. The tide was in and the wind was swirling the sea on to the low level cliffs. A few walkers approached from Ty-Crainge but it was too windy for conversation. As I entered the outlying cottages in Ty-Crainge a notice told me that an Art Gallery was open between 11:00 and 17:00. There didn't seem to be a rush of prospective buyers. I followed the tracks towards the centre of the village and then turned back inland before reaching the bay. I'd now start my return journey to Beddmanarch Bay. 

Return

Footpaths, stone tracks and country lanes took me out of Ty-Crainge and back to that entry point to the muddy woodland trail. It was just as wet as when I walked through it this morning. I adopted a strategy of just 'ploughing through' the wettest bits rather that try to find dry stepping stones (there weren't any in most cases). 

Somebody had let some sheep into one of the fields that I'd walked through this morning. I noticed that the lambs were unusually large for this time of year. They must have thought that I was the 'bringer of food' since they all followed me as I crossed the field and then looked quite disappointed as I went through the gate at the other side. 

At Four Mile Bridge the tide had gone out and I could now circumvent the boat on the footpath by walking on the shore. As I crossed the bridge, the water was now pouring from the inland sea out to...well, the 'outland'sea. The Cormorants had obviously gone to find food somewhere else. Half a dozen windsurfers scooted across the inland sea. I was surprised at how fast they could actually go, although maybe not so surprising given the strong wind.

Much to the disappointment of the Railway CCTV Operators, I managed to get across the railway line without hooking my rucksack to the safety gate on the crossing as I had done this morning. 

A group of birders were setting up tripods and telescopes in the carpark at Beddmanarch Bay. I'd seen some Oystercatchers and Geese following the tide out, but they were too far away for me to make out anything else. 'Have you spotted anything special?' I asked to nobody in particular in the group. 'Not yet we've only just got here' was a reply. 'Oh, I thought with the activity, you might've seen an Albatross or something' I said. 'Nah, but we did see two of them this morning.' 

Today's walk was much better than I thought it was going to be. It had quite a nice mixture of terrain, and at times it really did feel like I was walking around a nature reserve. It is definitely gaiter country though and I'd recommend wearing them on this route no matter what time of the year. I've now completed the circuit of Holy Island. I did it in 5 out-and-back walks, although if you did them as linear walks, I bet you could do it in 3. I think I'm going to make this Holy Island circuit a Venture in its own right. It does feel like quite an achievement and well worthy of a Venture classification.