Walk 345 -- Rhosneigr to Maltraeth

Ages:  Colin was 71 years and 166 days.  Rosemary was 68 years and 308 days.

Weather:  Wet and windy, but not at all cold.

Location:  Rhosneigr to Malltraeth.

Distance:  10 miles.

Total distance:  3563 miles.

Terrain:  Grassy/muddy paths.  Some track.  A little bit of rocky beach.  Tarmacked lanes. Undulating.

Tide:  In, going out.

Rivers: No.423, Afon Ffraw at Aberffraw.

Ferries:  None.

Piers:  None.

Kissing gates:  Nos.642 to 651 on the footpaths.

Pubs:  None.

‘Cadw’ properties:  None.

Ferris wheels:  None.

Diversions:  No.77 inland from Porth Cwyfan because the beach was impossible.  No.78 inland from Afon Ffraw because the official coastal path actually went under water!  No.79 was a short cut over the dunes because it was windy and rainy, so we thought the path round the coastal side would be too unfriendly.

How we got there and back:  Two days ago we drove from home to a cosy little holiday cottage near Criccieth.  This morning we drove from there to Malltraeth where we parked in a car park right next to a bus stop.  From there we caught a bus to Aberffraw, then another bus which dropped us by the car park in the dunes where we finished the last Walk.

At the end we finished at the car parked on the edge of Malltraeth.  It was too cold and windy to stop in that exposed car park by the river for more than a few seconds, so we drove straightaway to a forest picnic site about a mile away where we were a lot more sheltered.  There we had our tea and chocolate biscuits, then we drove back to our cosy little cottage. 

It rained incessantly, sometimes torrentially, for most of this Walk, so photography was very difficult.  I didn’t take my camera, and we struggled to take a few pictures with Colin’s trying not to get it wet.  Then they accidentally got deleted before we could transfer them to the computer!

It was two years before we were in the area again.  So, on a bright sunny day, we took a few photos of some of the places on the Walk that we could access by car. 

The toilets we had used at the end of the last Walk were padlocked – as we thought they might be because there was a notice saying they were “seasonal”.  We set off along the dune path in pouring rain and a strong wind, but it was not at all cold.  We would have been able to see Rhosneigr behind us if the visibility had been better.

The dunes came to an end and we had to continue on a clifftop path, but it wasn’t too unpleasant despite the wind and rain because it was so mild.  We came to a restored chambered cairn which we could get inside out of the rain.  There was what seemed to be a stone circle inside, but it was behind padlocked gates.  We could sit on a stone in the entrance out of the rain, so we took the opportunity to eat our slices of quiche.

Then we read the notices about this burial mound: 

“Legend has it that this mound was carried here in the apron of a giantess.  The true story is even more remarkable.  Five thousand years ago New Stone Age (Neolithic) travellers used their knowledge of the movement of the sun and stars to navigate their way across the sea.  They brought with them ideas from the Boyne Valley in Ireland, the west coast of Portugal and Spain, the Orkney Islands and Brittany.  The people from these far-flung places were united by a shared tradition of rock art and tomb building.  The burial chamber beneath the large mound of turf and earth was reached by a long stone-lined passage.  You can enter the tomb and enjoy an ancient display of European art.” 

Except that we couldn’t because of the padlocked gates – and it was dark in there!  (The flash photos revealed a lot more, but we couldn’t see anything.)  We read another notice: 

“Barclodiad y Gawres is the largest Neolithic tomb in Wales.  Dating from 2500-3000 BC it was built at the same time as the pyramids in Egypt and the stone circles at Stonehenge.  This was a public grave for the local farming community.  Built without the use of metal tools, its construction would have required considerable organisation and it would probably have acted as a focus for religious ceremonies over several generations.  During excavations two cremated male burials were found in one chamber, and in the central area there was evidence of a fire on to which had been poured a strange stew consisting of wrasse, eel, frog, toad, grass snake, mouse shrew and hare, then covered with limpet shells and pebbles.” 

Sounds like a witch’s brew!  Another notice (yes, there were four!) told us: 

“The mound covers a cruciformed inner chamber used for the burial of the dead, and approached by a covered passage.  Three of the stones at the junction of the passage and chamber and two at the back of the side chambers bear original decorations.” 

That’s all very well, but we couldn’t get past the gate.  The fourth notice told us: 

“Of prime importance at Barclodiad y Gawres is the exceptional decoration on the massive stones forming the burial chamber.  Here can be seen zigzags, chevrons and spirals, similar to the decoration found in the tombs of the Boyne Valley in Ireland, emphasizing the close association across the Irish Sea.  There is only one other example of this Neolithic art form known in Wales (Bryn Celli Ddu).  Such decoration is equally rare in England and Scotland and Barclodiad y Gawres is unquestionably the finest example in Britain.  Unfortunately the decorated stones have become increasingly vulnerable to graffiti and vandalism, so it is with regret that Cadw is currently unable to allow unsupervised access into the chamber.” 

So that’s it, a few bad behaved louts spoiling everything for the many once again.  B-----y vandals!

We continued round the little headland and came down to the beach where there were two surfers in the water.  (They were so wet they didn’t mind the rain.)  One of them was quite good at surfboarding, he caught lots of waves.

It was only a tiny beach, we were soon climbing the next cliffs.  The visibility improved, though the rain didn’t, and we could actually see Rhosneigr in the distance behind us.

The views of the cliffs and the waves were good, but we couldn’t photograph them because of the rain.  It stopped occasionally, but always started again within a few minutes so it was never worth shedding our wet-weather gear.  I found that putting my cape over my kag and overtrousers kept me more or less dry, and kept my rucksack pretty dry too.  Colin battled with his infamous umbrella in the wind — I ignored him.  The path was muddy and a bit slippery in places, it was not easy walking.  While we were still on the clifftops we had about ten minutes of pounding rain and a high wind — it was horrid!

Further on the path led us inland, uphill across fields.  The signposts were a bit elusive, but we found them.  It tended to be very muddy where we were supposed to climb over stiles, but the adjacent field gates were usually unlocked so we were able to avoid most of the mire.  We came out on to a road.  A farmer’s vehicle was approaching, and seeing it a number of cows started moving towards the gate we had just come through.  One frisky cow slithered on the mud — she didn’t fall but she stared at us as if it was our fault!

We carried on along the road, then took a track which led us down past Anglesey Motor Racing Circuit.  It was behind grassy banks so we couldn’t see anything from where we were, but there was nothing happening this wet Monday morning anyway.  Colin was speculating on how “easy” it  would be (it wasn’t) to scale the barbed wire fence and brambles and get in free — I reminded him he was no longer a teenager!

We came out on to a beach where there was a chapel on a rock.  The rain stopped momentarily so I was able to take a photo of it, but that was one of the photos that got deleted.  The path disappeared under stones on the beach.  The tide was in, so it was rough walking.  Then we had to climb over rocks which were slippery — we were not happy.  So when we got to the place where a road came down to the beach we went inland along said road instead of continuing along the official Coast Path which supposedly carried on along this difficult beach.

We followed the road for about half a mile.  There was no traffic, but it was boring!  So, at the first opportunity, we turned off on a good track which led us down to the river and the official Coast Path further on.  But there the coast path went down into the water!  We were wet enough already with the rain, so we backtracked to take a parallel path higher up the hill into Aberffraw.  We suffered another torrential downpour as we did this.

In Aberffraw we passed a stone drinking fountain where the water used to come out of a lion’s mouth.  No water comes out of it these days, of course, it never does.  We sought out the public toilets — clean, open and free.  Thank you, Aberffraw, especially as we had both forgotten our RADAR keys!  It actually stopped raining as we walked down to the packhorse bridge, so we took the opportunity of eating our sandwiches there whilst sitting on large stones.

We had a choice of paths there — either take a minor road straight across the dunes, or walk closer to the sea around three sides of the dunes on a sandy path.  We decided against the latter because it was still very windy and that path was dodgy.  As we walked across on the road, I took off my cape and waved it in the air in an attempt to dry it.  But then I thought it would be easier to dry it just by wearing it.  This worked quite well, for it was still very windy.  When I thought it was dry enough I took it off and asked Colin to stuff it in my rucksack, after all the sun was out and the clouds were breaking up.  No sooner had he done this than it started to rain again, so it all had to come out once more and get wet!

On the other side of the dunes the road went between two stone posts, and the footpath led off to the left.  It was only marked as an ordinary footpath, yet it was the official Coast Path according to the map.  It seemed to bear round to the left, yet the map said it should go straight on.  A bit confused, we got out the compass and made for the chapel at the top of the hill.  There we saw a beautiful rainbow, for the sun had come out before it had stopped raining.

We left the official Coast Path there because, for reasons beyond our understanding, that led northwards from the chapel to a main road which it followed for nearly a mile.  We took a minor road — again no traffic — which was nearer the sea and led to the same place.  It led through woods and was very pleasant to walk.

As we approached a cottage we could hear a loud squealing sound above the noise of the wind, and wondered what it was.  We passed the corner of the cottage and saw that it was a stoat trying to kill a rabbit!  At the same moment we came upon this scene, the stoat saw us, dropped the rabbit and dashed off over a low wall.  The rabbit was lying on its side absolutely still.  Colin gently moved it with his foot, and there was no sign of life.  “It’s dead!” he said, and looked over the wall to see if he could see the stoat.  But I was still looking at the poor ‘dead’ rabbit when it suddenly leapt up and bounded away in the opposite direction!  It gave me quite a fright!  We were left wondering if it did eventually survive because we didn’t know how injured it was.

We reached the main road at the point where the official Coast Path left it, and couldn’t think why the pleasant route we had just walked wasn’t the official Coast Path.  We took another minor road downhill towards the river.  Just before it got to the water we turned northwards for the last half mile.  It was a lovely path taking us sometimes through woods, but it was very narrow.  The brambles and gorse needed cutting back in places too.  Duckboards had been put down over the muddiest bits, but netting was missing in places leaving slippery wooden boards.  Colin slithered at one point but didn’t fall.  I walked very carefully — I’ve broken enough bones in the past to last a lifetime!  We came out on to the main road through Maltraeth, just a few yards from the car park where our car was waiting for us.

That ended Walk no.345, we shall pick up Walk no.346 next time at the car park by the river bridge in Maltraeth.  It was twenty to four, so the Walk had taken us five and three-quarter hours.  It was too cold and windy to stop in that exposed car park by the river for more than a few seconds, so we drove straightaway to a forest picnic site about a mile away where we were a lot more sheltered.  There we had our tea and chocolate biscuits, then we drove back to our cosy little cottage.