Porth y Dwfr

The signage became a bit sparse as I headed towards the coast. Progress was hindered somewhat by the area being traversed by electric fences. This actually became a feature of this walk. I’d never seen so many electric fences in my life before. It must cost a fortune to run them. The odd thing is, apart from one bull, I didn’t come across any livestock on the walk and so the effort to install them seemed to be a bit of a waste. They also ran either side of the multiple farm tracks that I came across. Inevitably, I did get electrocuted at one point, but more of that later. 

I made my way towards the coast, gingerly stepping over the electric fences whenever I had to. When I finally reached the cliffs I found the coastal path. Thank goodness for that. On my memorable muddy Church Day walk (see Mud, Sweat And Tears At Church Bay), I’d walked to a large cairn on the hillside at Porth y Dwfr. My first  objective of the day, was to do a short out-and-back to that cairn, before setting off on the main walk to Cemlyn Bay. I’d forgotten how spectacular the cliffs are on this section of the coast. They looked quite austere on what was a grey, moody day. Out at sea I could make out a ferry sailing towards Holyhead. Holyhead Mountain behind the town was wearing a cap of mist and he wouldn’t take it off throughout the day. It was a muddy and hilly yomp to my first objective, but it wasn’t long before I reached the same cairn that I’d touched almost a year ago. The grim weather was so similar to that previous  occasion that it seemed like it had been  only 10 minutes ago. Well, that was the continuation bit of today’s walk done and so I turned around and started walking back northwards along the coast. 

Forbidden Area

The path dropped down to a wonderful little bay at Ynys y Fydln where there was a mighty, honeycombed piece of land jutting out into the sea. There was also a small inland lake, Llyn y Fydln. One Anglesey Coast Path sign pointed along the coast and the other pointed inland. In fact, the inland one went back to where I’d parked my car and I’d use that path on my return later in the day. The reason for the two options was that the next section of the coastal version of the path was closed between the 14th of September and the 1st of February. Other than a sign saying it was private land, there was no reason given for the restriction. Looking at the OS map, the inland route went back to the road and followed that before making its way back to the coast. Given that it was the 7th of March I figured that I wouldn’t have to blag my way past any access disputes I might have on the route.   

It turned out to be a pretty route. The path initially climbed on to an exciting track along a cliff edge; not one I’d particularly like to walk along in a gale. After that excitement, it took a more sedate path away from the cliffs. Electric wire fences periodically traversed the path and some step through stiles were provided, rather than having to hurdle the things. One of the fields was littered with scraps of plastic bags. Presumably these had been blown from some nearby refuse dump. It was disappointing to see all the rubbish  given the scenic location. The Skerries island with its lighthouse was clearly visible a mile or two offshore. 

Carmel Head

At Carmel Head I came across quite a large chimney. It looked like the ones seen in the Pennines used as part of the old lead mining industry. I believe this one was used for copper mining. There were also two other large, stone structures known as the White Ladies. These were apparently used by sailors for navigation. I noticed that they lined up exactly with another small island out at sea known as West Mouse which also supported a similar stone sighting structure. These were interesting features that merited further investigation, but my attention was dominated somewhat by a large bull that was mooching around in their vicinity. In fact I was so distracted by my bovine friend, that I ended up choosing the wrong path. In my defence, I continued to follow the Anglesey Coast footpath signs. The problem was that they were signage for an inland rather than the coastal route. By the time I realised my mistake, I figured that it would be best to continue onwards, rather than return to the coastal route. It would have meant backtracking quite a way and then circumnavigating that bull again. As it turned out, that would have been the far better option. 

Electric Land And Cow Shite City

It had started to rain by now and I had my waterproofs on. I found myself being corralled along a farm track with electric fences on either side. Up ahead, I could hear an industrial noise coming from a very large farm. There was also a smell so foul that I could still smell it on my clothes a good ten hours later on. The farm was shown as Mynachdy on the OS map. The dreadful smell was emanating from a huge slurry lake. There were two tractors at its side either sucking up or spewing out the stuff; I didn’t stick around long enough to find out. The electric wires seemed to get worse as I approached the huge farm. There were stiles in some places, but it wasn’t completely obvious where they wanted walkers to go. I saw a farmhand moving a huge number of cattle into a massive shed area. No wonder the slurry lake was so large. Near to the centre of the farm buildings an Anglesey Coast Path sign pointed southwards. It suddenly clicked that after choosing the wrong path, I’d actually been walking on the inland version of the Anglesey Coast Path. Following the southward sign would have  taken me back to where I'd parked my car. Fortunately the OS map showed another bridleway heading east to intercept the coast. Unfortunately there were electric wires blocking the way. My hand accidentally touched one of the wires and I got an electric shock. I was getting rather annoyed. I couldn’t see many horses or bikes making their way along this particular bridleway. I did manage to make progress, but the wires and farm had not put me in the best of moods. Even though it was still raining, I felt a little brighter when I re-joined the coast at the bay of Hen Borth. 

Cemlyn Bay

A couple of small hills had to be traversed before reaching Cemlyn Bay. Just inland was the small church of Saint Rhwydrus. It was founded in the 6th century. It seemed to have a large selection of graves crammed into its small cemetery. Further along the coast I could see a huge building with pylons marching from it and disappearing into the interior of Anglesey. This was the Wylfa nuclear power station. I’d walk  past this powerhouse on a later walk in this campaign. Before investigating the shingle beach at Cemlyn Bay, I walked out to the headland of Trwyn Cemlyn. The ten minute excursion didn’t really give me superior views, but at least I can say that I’d  been there. In the carpark at the south end of the bay I read a notice that said the carpark flooded at high tides. Oddly, this important information wasn’t that prominent amongst all the information boards. Four kayakers were getting kitted up. Given that they’d parked their vans in the carpark I figured that they would have a vested interest in any flooding. ‘Probably only at neap tides’ replied one of them. I nodded sagely trying to give the impression that I was somewhat of an expert on ocean movements. ‘Are any neap tides due in the next five days?’ I asked. ‘Nope’ came the reply.  

Cemlyn Bay has a natural shingle beach which separates the sea from an inland lake. It was a haven for birds. A sign told me that I shouldn’t walk across the shingle between April and June to protect nesting birds. Given it was early March, I figured I was okay and so started trudging my way across to the eastern carpark. The rain was quite heavy now. The weather forecasters said that it would hit Anglesey around 15:00. I looked at my watch; it wasn’t even midday.

Return

The rain continued on my return journey. Instead of turning off towards Electric Land And Cow Shite City, I continued along the coast. It was a perfect route with low cliffs and a grassy path. The lighthouse on the Skerries intermittently shone its light in my direction. Despite half a mile being between the coast and Cow Shite City, there was still an overpowering stench that wafted over to me. I wondered whether they might have sprayed some of the fields along the coast with the stuff. I just hoped it didn’t seep into my boots. The bull was still mooching around near the chimney and White Ladies, and I quickly bypassed him. It wasn’t until I was approaching Ynys y Fydln that the rain finally stopped. I noticed that some of the coast facing trees in the nearby wooded area seemed broken and scarred. I thought at first that this was probably storm damage, but on closer inspection I noticed that the bark of the trees seemed blackened. It looked like the damage had been cause by fire.  

At the small lake, I followed the inland version of the Anglesey Coast Path back towards the carpark. The final few electric fences contrived to hinder my progress, but I made it back in the end. As I packed up and got into my car to leave, a large 4x4 made its way up the farm track towards me. Nobody got out to question why I’d parked there, so I’d guess that it had been a valid place to park.   

My recommendation for this walk is that you avoid the inland route…well avoid that bit that goes through the farm at Mynachdy. Due to the restrictions of the ‘forbidden area’, this means that you'd have to do the walk sometime between the 1st February and the 14th of September. It is certainly a pretty stretch of coastline. Cemlyn Bay is an ideal place to do a bit of bird spotting too.