July 7, 2014: Llanfairpwll to Beaumaris
With the Menai Suspension Bridge in the background, Naomi makes progress along the Belgian Promenade.
I still felt very tired as I crept down to breakfast the following day and, perhaps discouraged by a brief shower just as we finished breakfast, I decided that the prudent thing to do would be to give the day’s walk a miss. I wanted to be able to complete tomorrow’s final stage and there was no objection to my spending a solitary day in my b&b room – so this is what I decided to do.
In fact I went back to bed and slept until noon, when I dined on some crisps and today’s bag of trail mix – disdaining the days-old egg salad sandwich left over from our rainy day. I was quite content to read and do my puzzles and there was one additional task – I now had the time to remove from their thick pages and the pockets of a heavy stock book all those stamps that Adrian had presented me soon after we reached our first b&b. I was able to do this (reducing the weight of my case considerably) and take a picture of a rabbit in the garden below before Naomi called me at about the three quarter mark of the section that she and Adrian were covering without me. When they returned after 5:00 they reported that they had not gone directly back to the spot we had broken off on the previous day (Llyn-Rhos-Ddu) but close enough – and that the stepping stones over the Afon Braint and some shingle on the shore would have given me problems. They reported the closure of another pub, The Mermaid Inn, but they had found noontime refreshments at the Sea Zoo.
It had been a hot day and they were clearly tired but we all brightened up a bit at the prospect of another meal at the Y Groelson pub – to which we were taken at 6:00. I had the lasagna and we took some more pictures with the iPad.
The next morning, Monday, we were driven to the Carreg Bran Hotel in Llanfairpwll by Jack and here we prepared for our last day on the trail – seven miles or so to Beaumaris. Llanfairpwll is, of course, just a shorter version of the town’s name – a designation recorded as the longest place-name in geographical history: Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwyllllantysiliogogogoch – which translates as “St. Mary’s church in the hollow of white hazel near a rapid whirlpool and the church of St. Tysilio near the red cave.” All the letters of this mouthful were raised in metal relief on a construction behind the hotel and I paused here to take a photo before we began looking for a path (blocked by a lorry) back to the waterside. Views across the narrowing strait would be more restricted today, though the woodland on the other side seemed very near.
We now passed beneath the Britannia Bridge, one of two giant structures that ties the mainland of Wales to Anglesey. I climbed up a bit in order to take a picture of another stone lion. Our route led through National Trust woodland, utilizing paths over rough ground that remained quite level for some time. Eventually we had to abandon fields that faccompanied a steep climb up to a busy roadway – which approached a roundabout at the entrance to the town of Menai Bridge. Before reaching it, however, we were directed down a track to a rugby pitch and around the corner to a causeway out to the aforementioned St. Tysilio’s Church on its own little island. I had a nice rest on a bench while Naomi and Adrian crossed over to the island to visit the church and its cemetery.
Poppies and other wildflowers near Menai Bridge.
Now we could continue on wide pavement, the Belgian Promenade, with views of the famous Menai Suspension Bridge improving all the time. Before reaching this structure there were deviations to see a stone circle and a piece of modern sculpture as well. I was enjoying the slow pace of the day’s march, on which I took a number of photos, but this dilatory ramble was about to give way to more straightforward if less edifying progress.
After passing beneath the suspension bridge we found ourselves in the waterside streets of Menai Bridge; we passed a slipway and turned right at a pub, the Liverpool Arms, and visited a little local park with a young monkey puzzle tree. Then Adrian found a way for us to take to the streets again and gradually we worked our way up to the main highway. Naomi was complaining of back pain but we didn’t pass any shops that might sell something as humble as an ibuprofen. When we reached the main highway to Beaumaris we turned right and made steady progress on pavements provided for pedestrians. I was grateful for the pavement, if not the whizzing traffic nearby, but soon we would have to abandon this nice level route.
The coastal path, perhaps for the safety of its users, abandons the highway after a mile or so and turns left to climb a very steep road up to the village of Landegfan. Pavement was provided here too but the angle of ascent would leave no one feeling grateful for anything. After turning our backs on the water we turned right to parallel it once again – still climbing steeply. I was longing for a turnoff to a pub (whose symbol I had spotted on the OS map) but long before I reached this junction Adrian had been told by a local citizen that it too was not open. This same chap did say that we might be able to discover some refreshment at the local Life Style store – which, to our surprise, turned out to be just a branch of a convenience store chain (this one also served as a post office, I believe). The lady behind the counter volunteered to make us ham and mustard baps and with these, and something to drink, we crossed the street in the bright sun and I sat down on a low wall.
My right hip, perhaps because of the steepness of our recent ascent, was crying out in protest so I was glad to find anyplace to sit down and by this time Naomi had also purchased some ibuprofen at the store – and I took two of these. I ate my sandwich and some cheese and onion crisps and then we continued our march on Beaumaris, using a narrowing lane heading north through a nice spread of lush suburban housing.
As we neared a turnoff onto footpath again Adrian encountered a chap who was working on path maintenance for the county. He said that two trees had fallen on the path but that we could step over one and walk around the second and this is exactly what we did. Skies were clouding over as we set off on a twisting, up and down route. At last we emerged in the posh surroundings on Pen y Park house and here a very steep descent on tarmac brought us by a church and onto the strand at Beaumaris. It had started to rain and so we all paused to put our rain jackets on. A final stretch on the A 545 brought us into this bustling village.
We had been unable to reach our last landlord, Richard, by phone so, after we had located Church Street, we were uncertain if he would be in as early as 3:30 when we reached Churchbank b&b – but he was – and so was his three year-old mixed breed dog, Bruce. We were shown to our rooms (my bathroom and shower were across the hall) and then we returned to the crowded, tourist-dotted streets of Beaumaris – in sunshine again. Adrian went off to tour Beaumaris Castle and Naomi and I headed for the Pier House, where she had tea and I a pint of Snowdon Lager (not a great success) and we relaxed after reaching the end of a very successful expedition. In all, I had covered 46 miles on my five days of walking and when I reminded myself that only a few weeks earlier I had contemplated cancelling my participation in this venture I could be well satisfied.
Beaumaris Castle
As we left the Pier House we met Adrian and now it was our turn to walk up to the castle, at least for photographs. The others made a number of stops as we returned to our b&b, darting in and out of craft shops and the like. Back at Churchbank we had a rest, I took a shower and then we returned to the high street to have a final meal at Ye Olde Black Bull Hotel, a spot recommended to us by Richard. I had the Bull Burger.
For some time the in-laws had been undecided about when they might follow me back to London but by now they had decided not to take a boat trip to nearby Puffin Island or make any longer stop in Bangor, across the strait, and so it was determined that we would all take the 9:22 Virgin through-train from Bangor the next day. If I needed any help lofting my luggage it would be a great help to have these two along and we could all enjoy a taxi ride home from Euston Station.
A taxi number supplied by Celtic Trails did not respond so we were wondering who else we might call when I suggested we stop at the desk of the hotel and ask for recommendations. Here the accommodating receptionist booked a taxi for us for 8:30 the next morning. Adrian had just one more purchase to make, a coffee mug with the Welsh dragon, and we made our way home for a final night of b&b rest.
The next morning we had a nice visit with Richard, as he served our breakfast, and the economist Adrian asked lots of questions about the b&b trade. Our lady cab driver arrived promptly at 8:30 and, with only light traffic on the suspension bridge, had us over to Bangor station half an hour before our train was due. Adrian and Naomi went off to print the tickets they had booked on-line and we figured out where we might best wait for a carriage where unreserved seats might be found. The journey was very smooth (I’m sure I dozed a bit) and shortly after 12:30 we were back in London – as Naomi and Adrian began their week-long annual visit.
Beaumaris marked the end of the 2014 holiday and we continued from this spot during the 2015 sequel. If you want to follow the route from this spot you need:
Day 8: Beaumaris to Penmon Priory
If you want to see how we started the 2105 trip – with two stages still missing from the lineup – you need: