Around the Edge of Wales (22).....Penrhyndeudraeth to Pistyll

Around the edge of Wales (22) ….Penrhyndeudraeth to Pistyll

The Llŷn Peninsula has a beautiful coastline but the current coast path route doesn’t allow you to get too close to it in many areas. Having studied the maps and seen how much of the path follows tracks and roads I decide to cycle the peninsula and switch to walking on the north coast.

 

 

 

 

Early morning near the toll bridge in Penrhyndeudraeth and the tide is out. Ynys Gifftan squats in bright sun, Portmeirion village is just about visible in the distance, and I begin to cycle westwards. Now that the Porthmadog bypass is open the old road into Porthmadog town is much quieter and a roadside pavement, combined with an excellent cycle track alongside the Cob provides a traffic free route all the way from Penrhyndeudraeth. The view from the Cob across the Glaslyn estuary towards Cnicht and Snowdon is one of the most stunning in Wales. Could anyone ever tire of it?  Fortunately, the careful design of the new bypass – which sits low in the landscape and is devoid of vertical structures such as lights -  hasn’t detracted from this picturesque and dramatic panorama.

 

 

The recent improvements to the road to Morfa Bychan also meant an easy freewheel down from the turn to Borth y Gest, along a smooth tarmac surface. The road through the village and out to the beach took me past a duneland Site of Special Scientific and I was reminded of the case at work, about 12 years ago, to save it from being covered in holiday chalets as a result of developers’ enthusiasm to implement a historic planning consent granted some decades previously. It had been a bête noir of a case back then and had sparked a massive protest by the Welsh language movement. It was still contentious 12 years ago but the effort to save the site from development had paid off – although I wasn’t sure if there had been some further encroachment of caravans since then.

Back towards the main Porthmadog-Cricieth road  the route took me over a hill from where, at one point, you can see both Cricieth and Harlech castles at the same time. A pavement runs alongside the main road all the way to Cricieth, which was a relief although the road was virtually empty at this early hour.  My only company on the seafront at Cricieth was a council worker emptying the bins. A beam of sun hung over the Dwyryd estuary but  the day hadn’t yet woken up properly. A westerly wind chilled the air and slowed my journey as I travelled towards Pwllheli along the pavement cycle route created as part of the recent road improvements. The coastal wetland at Abererch looked attractive – unfortunately not an easily accessible area.

 

 

I was glad to stop for a coffee and toast at Pwllheli and was surprised to find a new Costa coffee house in the town. Did the place really need one? I decided to  use one of the other small, local coffee shops instead.  A gentle ride along the sinuous promenade pavement took me out to the edge of town, heading towards Llanbedrog. Some new houses were being built on the dune edge – yet more steel and glass balconies! Having passed some depressingly bland new houses being built ‘for the future’ at Llanbedrog  I was glad to climb up to Mynydd Tir y Cwmwd. A stunning heather headland  with brilliant views in all directions.  Abersoch was busy – full of shorts and flip-flops, lots of white and turquoise and all-terrain prams. Not a place to stop for long and I rattled quickly over the rough track through the golf course  to escape from the place.  The climb up to Machros and Bwlchtocyn at the other end was steep. Plenty of time to remember the case of the landowner who tipped rubble over the edge of the cliff about 12 years go – another difficult and testing piece of work that I inherited when I moved to north Wales to work.  Bwlchtocyn was sunny and warm. A bright little place, brilliant white houses and fuschia bushes.  Onwards I went to Llanengan with its strangely designed village hall and its huge chimney stack that would have been associated with some local industry in the past – brick perhaps? Down then to Hell’s Mouth, the only place in Wales now where the rare Welsh bee can be found. I  spent a bit of time looking for the creature near the patches of trefoil behind the beach and found a couple busily flying in and out of their nest holes in the sand. Back inland the route across the vast area of low lying land behind Porth Neigwl is rather uninspiring. The fields are large and improved and the verges were solid masses of dropwort. Dark humming clouds of flies kept on rising from the flowers as I wheeled by, whizzing madly around my head and crashing into my face.  It was good to get to the main road and turn towards Rhiw.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The last time I’d visited this part of the peninsula was when I was dealing with a road improvement scheme on the far side of Hell’s Mouth, when the cliff edge road past Treheli was beginning to show signs of rapid erosion and collapse. People were agitated about the proposal to carve a new route across the hill – it would mean cutting a swathe through one of the few areas of woodland on this far western end of the peninsula, and through the National Trust ‘Plas yn Rhiw property. I remember the son of the poet R.S.Thomas writing in protest from Japan – the proposed route would also cut across the slope above his parents’ cottage which he still owned.  Local people were increasingly frustrated at the prospect of delay which could mean them having to undertake massive detours to carry on with their normal daily lives. It was a sensitive piece of work and emotions were running high. We spent a long time discussing options and the fine detail of the final design to try and ensure the  road would avoid damaging habitats, would blend with the landscape and retain the feel of a small country road –Gwynedd Council, the National Trust and myself for the Countryside Council. I was intrigued to see how the  scheme had worked out as I’d changed jobs just before work started on the scheme.  I was so impressed. The Local Authority should have won some kind of rural design award for this project. It wasn’t until I noticed the old road below that I realised I was on the new one.  The narrower than usual carriageway, the lack of markings and lights, the stone walls and roadside trees were all as we’d planned and it looked good. 

 

 

The climb up to Rhiw village from the National Trust entrance to Plas yn Rhiw is uncomfortably steep. Local farmers in their little Kubotas were whizzing up and down but no one else was cycling or walking this slope! The views from here are stupendous though – over the Llŷn peninsula and towards Snowdonia. It was worth the walk to have the time to take it in. tiny ‘Cragen-Llŷn’ banners had been stapled to telegraph poles, drawing attention to the local protest group that has just been set up to oppose the Welsh Government’s proposal to designate a Highly Protected Marine Zone around the western end of the Llŷn peninsula.

 

 

On the long, 3 mile descent from  Rhiw to Aberdaron I stopped at Blawdty farm, at the side of the road, to photograph one of the old outbuildings that has been partly constructed out of a mixture of clay, straw and other materials. it must be one of the few clay buildings left on Llŷn. I stopped at the Ship in Aberdaron and  chatted outside to holiday makers for a good hour or two.  Most of them had been coming here for years and knew the area very well. I learnt that Rolf Harris was in the area filming a programme, though nobody seemed  to know what it was about, and that the tiny HSBC building on the sea front was on sale for £half a million!

 

 

 

 

Over to Anelog and to Whistling Sands where I stopped to walk for a bit, then on to Tudweiliog, Edern and Nefyn, following every small lane detour that I could and walking down to visit bays that I’d never seen before, such as Porth Llechen. I met only two cars in 3 hours and these north-facing beaches were empty despite feeling warm in the setting sun. By the time I reached Pistyll I was tired and decided to call it a day.