June 7, 2016: Bull Bay to Cemaes
An old brickworks can be seen on the far side of Porth Wen Bay.
Bright sunshine beamed down on our Cemaes hotel as we made preparations for the third day of our walk, one in which we would attempt to complete the stage from Llaneilian to Cemaes itself – a section that yesterday’s rain had caused us to interrupt. Then we had walked only five miles or so; today it would be closer to six – assuming that any of the advertised distances were to be trusted.
Our taxi driver, who had only morning duties today, picked us up at 9:30 and we were soon back at the Trecastell Hotel in Bull Bay. I took a picture of the pub sign, the one advertising the presence of the gorgeous landlady and the grumpiest landlord, and we resumed our march along the highway as far the Bull Bay Hotel. Here we could resume a coast path – though I think we inadvertently created a new shortcut by bypassing an insufficiently marked headland alternative.
Skies clouded over but our cabbie had assured us that there would be no rain today – and he was right. The coastal rollercoaster began again and we passed a number of lovely narrow and flower-bedecked inlets. Once again we were often greeted by other walkers, locals mostly – with their dogs. Truth to tell I was just as happy with a shorter section today, though there would be problems with this route too.
The smaller inlets gave way, eventually, to a major indentation in the coastal shelf – the substantial bay of Porth Wen. It took us quite a while to circle this body of water, one dominated by the redundant brickworks on the farther shore. After passing a farmhouse and its well-kept gardens the path then began a steep ascent of the Torllwyn headland. I was, of course, bringing up the rear on such a section – but I never experienced any lightheadedness like yesterday.
We turned left below a signal mast and soon began a descent to a rocky inlet facing the Llanlleiana headland. By now it was lunchtime and, using some stones and the stile risers themselves, we paused to eat the tuna fish sandwiches prepared by our hotel. I must say that the prospect before us was not conducive to good digestion – for we could see dozens of steep steps waiting for us to finish our meal.
Staring down at the Llalleiana headland. Other walkers promised a low level diversion around the left flank of this summit but this was overgrown and we still had a lot of climbing to do.
A local couple and their dog (who had difficulty getting under the wire fence next to the stile) assured us that there was a way around the headland before us and, indeed, they started off on a path around the bottom of this obstacle – only to return in disappointment a few minutes later; this low level path had become overgrown in the two years since they had last used it. This meant that all of us had to utilize the steps in order to reach a higher level on the headland – where, indeed, a more level bypass was reached as we forked left. Up behind us, incidentally, there now came two women with a lively Schnauzer named Florence.
I was a bit concerned about our water supply; the exertions of the trail certainly produced a thirst in its users hereabouts but I could see that we were running low – some members of our party having failed to fill their containers to the top back at the hotel. My solution, which I had worked out after a close study of the OS map, was to propose a shortcut (in time if not distance) by, once again, abandoning the coast path itself in favor of road walking to Cemaes. When we reached the end of our bypass – more steps clearly visible ahead – a conference was called as we considered the options. Adrian wanted to persevere on the coast path but Naomi agreed to accompany me on the inland alternative. Most of the remaining water was transferred to Adrian’s bottle and we headed off in separate directions.
The spot was lovely, with dried reeds in their bed forming a wave of tidal motion on their own and a farmstead surrounded by green fields on our right. After a brief climb we reached the farm access road, continuing on to a junction with the road to Cemaes. Again this bit of improvisation was full of delights, with wild flowers and hawthorns blooming in the hedges and very little traffic to contend with. There were also some manicured homesteads and even a cottage whitewashed not in white but pale green – greenwashed.
We reach Cemaes harbor.
After an hour or so we reached a parting of the ways and I chose to take the roadway that headed downhill to the parking lot adjacent to Cemaes harbor itself. There was no sign of Adrian as yet but we did meet the two ladies with Florence again. There was a lively seaside scene here and after a brief rest and, back again in full sun, we followed the promenade along the back of the bay, climbed to cross a bridge, turned right a short distance and thus reached the high street.
Of course I wanted my pint but we continued up as far as our hotel, on the off-chance that Adrian might already be in residence. It was shortly before 4:00 now and, to our surprise, the hotel was locked – and we had left our room keys at reception. After a while another hotel customer opened the door to leave – he seemed very doubtful about letting such dubious characters inside – but reception was still locked so we retreated to the bottom of the high street and looked for a pub.
I chose Ye Olde Vigour, partly because there was a front table in the shade and partly because from this table we could see Adrian as he entered town. The pub was a characterful local with a landlady who was full of good cheer – she even reminded me that I had dropped my wallet as I sat down out front. At another table a hippy with long Rasta braids was drinking with his girlfriend. With them was a young lass with long tresses who could not sit still. She was called Ruby (as was a local dog) but after Adrian chugged up the street to join us the others reminded me that the lass was a lad – named Reuben. Florence and her owners came by here too.
Once again we decided to make use of the hotel dining room but tonight my appetite was much better as I polished off my sausage and mash and shared some of Naomi’s dessert. The latter was experimenting with all the classic British puddings…sticky toffee pudding, lemon sponge, even spotted dick. It was back to our rooms after dinner and once more a fight to see which would come to an end sooner – the remaining daylight or my consciousness.
Having been diverted from our planned itinerary by some adverse weather conditions it was not until 2017 that we were able to move forward from Cemaes. To continue from this point you would need:
To see how we concluded the 2016 expedition you need: