Dwyran to Llan-fair-pwll-gwyn-gyll-goger-y-chwyrn-drobwll-llan-tysilio-gogo-goch
Go Ahead, Say it Three Times Fast
Day 92
Dwyran to Llan-fair-pwll-gwyn-gyll-goger-y-chwyrn-drobwll-llan-tysilio-gogo-goch: 10 miles
Fun Fact of the Day: Yes, I'm aware of how poorly today's blog post may appear to be formatted
Reason: The full name of Llanfair PG is too long to fit on a page, so I put dashes in to allow it to try to figure itself out (it doesn't actually have all those dashes). Just scroll down.
So, first things first - yes, that is the name of a town. Yes, it's that town that you've heard of that has the longest name. And yes, I went there. But since I ended the day there, if you don't mind, I'd really like to talk about the rest of the day first - because to be honest, while Llanfair PG is a fine little town full of perfectly pleasant people - I preferred the ancient burial chamber just outside of it. And, of course, the salt.
But first, I turn the Final Corner on Anglesey. And it's Covered in Salt
So today I headed out from Dwyran through some fields where I got a bit turned around, ended up trying to figure out how to get through a patch of cow poop thirty feet long and one foot thick laid about through the open gate I thought I had to go through, ended up crawling through a barbed wire hole in the fence nearby to an unmarked hedgerow, only to find after walking 5 minutes that I'd unknowingly been walking entirely off the trail but had somehow mistakenly found my way back on. So in other words - great start.
The day was grey but it only sprinkled occasionally, and for the first bit the main obstacles were cows which ended up not being obstacles because I kept misjudging the markers and heading towards the wrong gates. But somehow I found my way past a large house called Tal Gwynedd, where basically, I found myself staring across the Menai Strait directly into Caernarfon, back on the mainland.
As the path turned left to go northeast back toward Menai Bridge, I started to think how happy I was to finally have a feeling of get somewhere. Because with that left turn, I basically made the final corner of my way around Anglesey, and after just a bit more walk, I'd return to Gwynedd via the Menai Bridge, and be back on the mainland once again headed south.
Fueled by that thought, I was making rather extraordinarily good time along the low-lying coast. I blew past what used to be the old ferry-landing for the jetty that used to go to Caernarfon - but I did stop for long enough to laugh a little at the description of how unreliable the ferry men used to be, often prospective passengers would have to find them in the pub before they could set off.
Anyway, besides a descriptive sign, really, only one thing in the world could have stopped me - and that thing was the promise of salt. Anyone who knows me knows that I am slightly addicted to salt. In fact, I insisted we bring all the different types of salt I've acquired to Wales when we moved here - not particularly practical for packing purposes, but I wanted my salt.
Anyway, I knew I was going to pass two things on this walk - one is the 'Sea Zoo' - basically an aquarium, and the other is 'Halen Mon' - the boutique salt factory. I'd actually told myself I wasn't going to stop, I really did. So today you would have seen me walking back and forth in front of the driveway for Halen Mon, telling myself that I'd literally just bought some Halen Mon Umami salt at the Eisteddfod, and that I should just keep walking, and then turning around because really what harm could it do to go into a salt factory gift shop and have a look around?
As an answer to that question, I found myself stuffing my backpack full of salt soap, salted chocolate spread and Halen Mon Salt Rock (which is basically a candy cane type thing people associate with the seashore here). But hey, during my visit I learned that apparently this is the salt that goes into Barack Obama's favorite chocolates. So there's that.
And now, a surprise burial chamber
Now utterly salt-laden and perfectly pleased with myself, I continued on along the shoreline with the coast of Gwynedd just across the way, through the quaint little village of Barras, and then inland toward Brynsiencyn. Considering it was basically high tide within the hour, I then made the rather stupid decided to take the low tide route, thinking if I went quickly enough, I'd get across the beach fine, and if not I could always just pop inland until the tide went out a bit more.
While this totally worked, and I didn't actually have to evacuate myself inland, my fear of a quickly rising tide meant I found myself running over what was an incredibly rocky shoreline with shoes that were becoming increasingly uncomfortable. Yesterday I mentioned this had been a problem in Newborough Forest - but really every day on most of Anglesey I've been thinking about how easy these walks are relatively to others I've been taking (not many ups and downs, and also after three months I'm kind of in spectacular shape) but about how 10 miles has become my absolute limit for one reason - my feet. Not only are the soles of my shoes worn down so thin that they aren't providing much support, the sole is now separating from the uppers near my toes, meaning the weight of my body is basically pushing my whole foot flat (it's hard to describe if it hasn't happened to you, but when it does happen it feels like your foot is spilling out the sides of your shoes, which offer absolutely no more support than being barefoot). For the last few days I've been taping my shoes with duct tape to try to hold them together - and also to try to keep the water out, since some of the ridges under the shoes are entirely gone so there's no barrier between my socks and puddles.
And today, with these rocks - well, they're basically the kind of rocks that are big enough to balance on, but they aren't big enough to be entirely stable. Some are smaller than my feet, and some are slippery. So basically trying to hurry over them while wearing shoes made nearly tractionless due to duct tape placement - well, it was not a great time, and at the end, my ankles were really, really sore.
But ultimately I survived, turned the corner back inland after Castel Gwylan, followed a road with way too many people driving way to fast to get to a caravan open house near Llandedwen, and then it was across the A499, up the road for a bit more until I got to a right turn on a small gravel path that eventually I detoured off slightly to get to Bryn Celli Ddu. To be honest, it wasn't that much of a detour from the trail - just a tiny bit uphill, and it was definitely worth it.
Bryn Celli Ddu - "The Mound of the Dark Chamber" is one of the best preserved prehistoric sites on Anglesey, dating from around 2000 BC. Unlike relatively nearby Barclodiad y Gawres (that I saw two days ago) it doesn't have any Stone Age wallpaintings (nevermind the most extensive wallpaintings in Wales like Barclodiad y Gawres apparently sports), but it does have the benefit of allowing you to just wander into it. Which was great - even if the carved stone intended to align with dawn of the midsummer solstice is a replica, it's based on a stone that still exists but is on display in Cardiff. It's one of those places where you're like 'Really? You're just going to let me walk in here?'
Anyway, they did, and I continued on my way to that place that everybody's heard of but that noone can pronounce.
St. Mary's Church in the hollow of white hazel near a rapid whirlpool and the Church of St Tysilio near the red cave
So, one interesting thing about Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogery- chwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch, or 'Llanfair PG' as everyone in their right mind calls it - is that the name was made up by a late 19th century Menai Bridge tailor in order to try to draw people to the village to see the longest place name in Britain, in Europe, and the longest train station name in the world.
Well, for better or for worse, he was pretty successful. About a week ago I'd sent P while he was here to go to the information center that was supposed to be here for a bus timetable. He came back with stories of getting stuck in traffic, not being able to find parking, and thousands of people emerging from tour busses with cameras to get pictures in front of the sign - not to mention that they'd closed the information center but left the highway sign up. For a little village, this seemed crazy.
A second interesting thing about Llanfair PG is that all of my guidebooks (including the one from the 1930s) are in unanimous agreement that there's really not much else here to do besides get your picture taken with a sign. On of them in fact is downright caustic about how silly this whole thing seems in particular the mass of humanity you usually have to go through to do it.
So. For me, I'm happy for Llanfair PG, if for no other reason than I've seen a lot of small villages here that look like they're trying to hang on, with for sale signs on the shops and people moving to cities. Not only has this village managed to just hang on, it seems to have a guaranteed income that allows it to even have not just pubs but a fancy VW dealership. And the fact that this prosperity isn't entirely due to the incredibly beautiful views nearby is actually pretty amazing when you think about it.
But, well, let's see. If you arrive here, have your picture taken, and don't have a good answer to the question 'What exactly am I doing here?' when you inevitably ask yourself the question, well, I wonder. For example when I asked myself that question after having been in the town two minutes (unlike when P was here, it wasn't super full up because it was later in the day), I answered it 'Well, not only do I now have several pictures of various signs with a made up name on them, the Wales Coast Path goes nearby, this is where the bus comes and it was a convenient place to stop walking in terms of mileage. So I had to come here really.' If your answer is 'My cruise ship docked in North Wales and this is the one thing we're seeing on Anglesey', well, I wonder. At the very least, please have something else to see on Anglesey - I'd be happy to provide a list.
But hey, I understand that this is the easiest thing to remember about Wales - it's the one fact everyone seems to be able to pull out of their hat 'Oh, isn't that where that town with the really long name is?' Well, yes, it is. There's also like 5 million other things to see, several thousand years of history, castles, Stone Age remains, beaches, singing, churches, poetry, mountains, etc., etc. But for some reason, I know this is the selfie that people want to have from Wales.
Obviously, I can't say I totally understand. But here we are.
