Day 91
Malltraeth to Dwyran: 9 miles
Thing I missed of the Day: The Island of Love
Reason: It was high tide. Apparently love requires low tides.
After yesterday's lovely weather today was something of a disappointment. A day that started off grey and rainy, continued on gray and close, and then ended grey and uncomfortably damp and warm.
The first part of the walk out of Malltraeth was over a small bridge and into a raised biking trail over some wetlands, that actually was on top of a cob, part of a sea defense that protects a massive area of land here from being inundated. With the grey skies, the most interesting thing I found on this trail was an explanation of a set of doors that were originally designed 200 years ago to work with the tides - when the tide came in they'd swing shut to keep water out, when it went out they'd open to let the gathered water out. Apparently these sea defenses allowed (and still allow) for the highway to London, massive tracts of farmland, and for the railway to Holyhead - otherwise this whole area would have been underwater.
Besides that, there were a lot of dog walkers and cyclists walking into the grey with me, and it was raining off and on. The path was headed towards the Newborough Forest, a reserve that's currently a large number of Cypriot pines living on part of the massive field of sanddunes of Newborough Warren. With increasing temperatures due to climate change, those responsible for managing the forest are starting to plant a diverse range of trees in the forest, as rising temperatures coupled with the everpresent sea are making it difficult to determine what type of trees will survive in the future.
For me personally, this meant some rather tedious walking. The last time I walked in a large managed forest I was in Pembrey Country Park and let's just say things didn't end well. While this time I didn't end up lost and covered in thistles in the middle of a race track, I did entirely fail to figure out where I was supposed to drop out of the forest onto the beach. So instead of soft sand and some breezes, I was walking on shoes with only wafer-thin soles left on gravel and small rock trails, through trees that all looked the same.
This was particularly unfortunate because the beach leads to Ynys Llanddwyn, an island mentioned in every Top 10 guide to Anglesey. This is the island of St. Dwynwen, the Welsh patron saint of lovers, who made it her sanctuary after becoming a nun following an ill-fated 5th century affair with Welsh prince Maelon. Since she said that lovers supplicating God in her name would receive divine assistance - her saint's day January 25th is effectively the Welsh Valentine's Day. On that day couples come out to her island to pray for her intercession. Even without any of this lore, her island is quite beautiful, and it's said that neither sickness nor sorrow will follow you from Llanddwyn.
I wouldn't say I was sorrowful when I left, but then I wasn't particularly happy. That said, I also didn't get to go out to the island itself because by the time I got to the end of the beach (having realized there was a beach there and leaving the forest path only right before the island) it was high tide and, well, it's an island. I could see what people meant about the island's beauty - even from afar, and even with grey skies, there was still something intriguing about the views backed by the steel grey waves lashing the giant sand dune backed beach.
But, alas, my feet were literally killing me, and so I continued onward through the gravel forest path as my shoes further tried to peel entirely off my feet (even more holes had appeared in recent days) - lucky for me not very far at all there was a large car park with a snack van and a picnic table. So I took a bit of a rest there, and decided that although in actuality this hadn't been all that far of a walk, when I got to Dwyran I'd be done for the day because my feet really couldn't take it anymore.
Happily the remaining few miles went largely through soft sand and dunes, which my feet were generally ok with. The state of me when I reached the parking lot outside of Dwyran with it's giant sculptures of Marram Grass wasn't all that wonderful, but I hobbled down the road toward the bus stop so I could get back to the car I'd left in Malltraeth. I decided I wouldn't try to figure out where exactly the remains of 13th century Llys Rhosyr Royal Palace of the Kings of Gwynedd were in Newborough Warren (they were only formally discovered in 1992).
Although I wasn't in shape to see anything, I did manage to make friends with an older local woman at the bus stop, who informed me that the busses were always either very early or very late (in this case very late), that she was taking the bus just up to the mailbox, and also when the bus arrived she informed me that the bus driver was alright, as well as his name, and where he was originally from. She then knew everyone on the bus, had a long conversation with the bus driver and another woman there, and when she got off waved charmingly at me because we're now best friends and people here are very friendly. As I further learned when another woman on the bus took the opportunity to also tell me how wonderful the first woman was, and what was I doing here, etc, etc.
Unfortunately, it was at this point that I started to realize how tired I am. Not just from today's walk (though the tree-related exhaustion wasn't wonderful), but it's like after every day's walk I'm just done. I can barely even formulate words at the end of the day. I'm not entirely sure if it's just exhaustion, or if it's from spending so many hours alone that when I actually see people I'm not entirely sure how to talk to them anymore. Or maybe it's having met so many people, or who knows what. But while I tried to keep up my end of the conversation with both of these nice women, I'm not entirely sure I gave off anything but a sullen lady vibe.
But who knows, maybe it's just because I think my feet are going to fall off. I really wish I had other shoes to wear.
