Walking The Wall

After a short section of road walking, I joined a grassy coastal path. It separated the landward muddy fields from the seaward marsh. Boards had been laid on the boggiest bits and that was quite a relief. I then came to a long concrete sea defence and the path went along the top of it. It was maybe three feet wide with quite a drop on either side. The seaward side had a fence running alongside it, but the landward side dropped straight into fields where cows mooched around, eager to stampede any intruders. The path was only really wide enough for one person and so I was a bit concerned when I saw a man with two dogs approaching me. ‘This should be interesting’ I thought. I then saw him stop and wait. It turned out that some passing places had occasionally been built along the wall and he was waiting in one of them. I thanked him as I passed through. I came across three or four of them along the wall. Some artist had painted stones and had arranged them with some shells in each of the bays. After the wall, I came across a fingerpost that directed me away from the coast and into the nearby woods. The Anglesey Coastal Path splits into two at this point; one route goes into the woods and the other follows the beach. I did the woodland stretch on the outbound journey and the beach route on the return. 

Benllech

The woodland trail wasn’t bad, but the trees obscured any views out to sea. At least it was a bit more sheltered from the rain, than walking along the open beach. Soon enough, I came out of the woods and followed a single track road down to the beach where I met up with the other path again. Red Dwarf Bay seemed quite an expanse of sandy mud. The birds seemed to like it. I was surprised to find some houses had been built right up to the marshy area. I’d be petrified of being flooded if I lived around here. I came to the small accumulation of houses that form Red Dwarf Bay village. The Ship Inn seemed to be the hub at the south end of the village. Given the number of  tables outside, I’d guess it does a reasonable trade during the summer months. The path then drifted into quite an extensive static caravan park, and then drifted back out again. It then followed a woodland trail at the foot of some low cliffs. Through the trees I could see some people were walking along the beach and so that would offered a better option on a drier day. 

The southern approach to the village of Benllech was via the sewerage works and so the appetite I’d acquired for a coffee and cake stop at a café, soon dissipated with the aromas issued from the plant. That turned out to be a blessing since the only café I could see was closed. There was a bit of a promenade on the seafront, but it certainly was no Blackpool. 

Traeth Bychan

The path climbed out of the village on a slippery, muddy path. So slippery that I managed to make a heavy slide and tumble. I landed awkwardly on my thumb and at first I thought I might have broken it. It was a good job that I’d put my overtrousers on, since they took the brunt of a coating of mud. The path followed the cliff edge which was sheer in places. Fences had been erected at the most dangerous spots, with less dangerous bits having vegetation to protect you. It undulated quite a bit and I took my time, giving my recent wobble. I met a runner coming the other way and we chatted for a while. ‘It was wonderful here yesterday. Bright and sunny’ he told me. ‘We could do with some of that today,’ I replied. ‘You never know what you’ll get on Anglesey. You might need snow shoes tomorrow’ he advised.    

It was quite a spectacular stretch of path along those cliffs. It eventually came to a large holiday park. I could see the Moelfre lifeboat station further along the coast and so I knew Traeth Bychan couldn’t be that far away. The path dropped down to the bay. It would have been possible to walk along the beach from this point to the roadhead at Traeth Bychan, but I followed the Anglesey Coastal Path markers instead which took me across a couple of fields. The path then dropped down into the carpark at Traeth Bychan. This was where I’d reluctantly dished out £12 for a day’s worth of parking, a couple of weeks ago. It was empty when I parked there then, and it was just as empty today. I wandered over to my turnaround point, and then started to head back. The rain had more or less stopped now. 

Return

The paths seemed just as slippery on my return journey, even though the rain had stopped. It tried to brighten up a bit, but it was only a half hearted attempt. It was mid-morning and I came across quite a few walkers on the path now. ‘Have you taken a tumble?’ asked one bloke who was pointing to my overtrousers. ‘Nah, I just like wallowing in mud’ I told him. I reached the point where I slid over and could see the slide marks made by my boot. It didn’t look that slippery and it made me wonder how it could have happened. Maybe it was just the morning rain that had made it worse.  

I dropped down to Benllech’s promenade which was now bustling with people. There’d only be a couple of cars parked on the seafront when I walked through this morning, but now there was no free spot. The sewerage works did their trick again and put me off stopping for lunch. The village of Red Dwarf Bay was busy with people too, with some people heading out to the beach with their dogs. The tide had gone out from this morning and I could only just see the sea on the horizon. I could see some people walking way out there. They looked at least a mile away. I made my way around the edge of the bay until I reached the point where the coastal path split into two with the beach and woodland option. I chose the beach for the return trip. It turned out to be a decent track with excellent seawards views. It was definitely the better route compared to the woodland route. I thought that I’d be bound to meet somebody on the long sea wall, but I had the path to myself and didn’t have to use a passing place. The cows had taken up residence just below the wall, just to keep passing walkers on their toes. There were only half a dozen cars at the Llanddona Beach carpark on my return. That surprised me given that it was such a pretty spot. 

My car groaned in complaint as it struggled up that 35% hill from the beach. By the grace of God I didn’t meet any other vehicle coming the other way. I’d be returning to the same carpark tomorrow to follow the Anglesey Coastal Path to Beaumaris. I decided not to tell my car that.  

Red Dwarf Bay is an impressive area. Don’t expect the sweeping, golden sands of a Northumberland Beach though. It has a more raw and gritty feel about the place. At least it had today, but that might have been something to do with the weather. It was an interesting walk though with a variety of terrain to negotiate. Just make sure your car has had a recent MOT, before driving to the start.