Day 101
Hells Mouth to Abersoch: 9.5 miles
Beer of the Day: Unicorn
Reason: Because it's called Unicorn. I don't think I need to have another reason.
An unfortunate weather report
So, today started out as a beautiful, clear day. Unfortunately, although I got wonderful views all the way back to the end of the Llyn peninsula, I knew there were clouds on the horizon. Ones that I'd heard were going to come in this afternoon and tomorrow, and settle in for potentially as long as a week.
Given I should just be over a week out of Aberdyfi and the end of the road - this wasn't the best news to get. Being so close, it actually feels a little ridiculous to even be staying overnight in this area - like I really should just be staying at home. But P jokingly told me a long time ago that I wasn't allowed back inside the house until I'd walked all the way around Wales, so I couldn't go back there. But the idea of a lot of rain will make me want to take a day off and wait it out - which feels even stupider if I'm staying in a guest house so close to home.
Regardless, these thoughts were neither here nor there as today was a lovely day, and so I put them into that part of my mind captioned 'think about later' and focused on getting around the two headlands of Pencilan and Trywyn yr Wylfa that lie in between Hell's Mouth and Abersoch.
Gorgeous views
The blue skies in the first half of the day meant it was stunning views for at least a little while. My broken camera meant that the only place these views would be recreated were in my mind. But the walk itself was very pleasant, even if the views over the sea and over the farmland of the interior will only be my own for now.
After the path rounds Pencilan, it cuts a bit back inland and follows a road. After the road I passed through a few fields, and eventually skirted a caravan park until I got to a spot overlooking the bay of Porth Ceiriad. At this point I got a little scared. Not because the terrain was overwhelming (as it was a few days ago at the far end of the Llyn peninsula. Here my fear was entirely farm animal induced.
Specifically, at one point there was a trail marker indicating walking up over a hill, following a fence along the right hand side of a massive field. To the left was some low scrub that I couldn't walk through, but the trail passed through the green low cropped grass through the right anyway. It would have been idyllic, as it sat there high up over a sheer drop off ending in the sea to the right. Would have been, if it hadn't been for the sign on the field that said 'Warning: Breeding Bull' (or Danger, or something - whatever else it said it said the word bull). Although someone had carved the word 'sh*t' after the word 'bull', I wasn't entirely certain I wasn't about to walk through a field with a giant angry bull in it. Not that it would have had to be angry to frighten me. Just being a giant bull is really enough.
The problem was that because of the low brush to the left and the angle of the field up a hill, from the corner I was starting in I couldn't get a view of the whole field to see whether there was, in fact a bull in it. I also couldn't see anyone else walking down the other direction - so it was kind of a crapshoot.
I couldn't see any (easy) way around this particular field though, so I decided to hug the fence, and try to walk very, very, quietly. My thought was that if a bull came running at me, I could hop over the fence. I decided that the cliff edge on the other side of the fence would be something I'd have to think about later.
Given that this wasn't really the best plan I've ever come up with in my life, I was lucky that despite a 5 minute hike with an extremely heightened heart rate, I got to the other side of the field without ever spotting a bull. I guess whoever put the addition on that sign was telling the truth.
St. Tudwal's Islands to Abersoch
Having climbed to the top of the Trywn yr Wylfa headland, the path then turns left and goes down a bit, presenting you with lovely sea views over St. Tudwal's Islands, including a very picturesque-ly placed lighthouse. The islands were originally home of - you guessed it - the hermitage of St. Tudwal. One of the seven saintly founders of Brittany, he was a Breton saint who is now pictured holding a dragon. Now though, the most famous thing about the island is Bear Grylls - i.e. that his holiday home is on St. Tudwell's Island West. Apparently he got in trouble with the local council for building a slide into the sea, which he later took down and said was never meant to be permanent. Which just goes to show you can't really get around planning permission in this country, no matter who you are.
As I walked around the headland with Bear Grylls' slide-less island in sight, the weather continued to be nice enough, and the south coast of the Llyn peninsula and its beaches attract enough tourists, that I ran across quite a few other people.
And eventually, when the path dropped down properly to the long beach that straddles Abersoch to the south - Borth Fawr - I really found all the people. Although by this time it had clouded over a bit more, the pretty beach was lined not just by seemingly sea-colored beach huts (which I was later told went for 70k each!) but by lots and lots of visitors. It didn't detract from the charming picture that the beach painted though - I guess I'm a sucker for tiny sea green, sky blue, and various other water shades huts lining the back of a beach. It really could have been something out of an issue of Coastal Living.
Eventually I wandered into Abersoch, which as a yachting haven, boasts not just several pubs, but surprisingly varied restaurants for North Wales - like a Thai restaurant and a proper Italian pizza restaurant. The former was unfortunately closed the three days I was in the area, but the pizza place did proper Italian pizza. Even if they did have Birra Moretti, which although I understand is now a 'thing' - along with it's sister-Italian beer Peroni - both have always stood out in my mind since I first had them in Italy in the late 90s as why exactly Italy has never historically been known for beer brewing. But thanks to the wonders of specialty marketing, here we are. Not only are they here, but people will pay a ridiculous amount of money for them. I know I'm on a tangent here, but in what world do you think a beer with an old Italian man in a green suit and fedora on it is going to contain beer that's actually good? It's not an ironic label either, that's their for real mascot and it has been for decades.
Anyway, Abersoch. Charming, slightly expensive Abersoch with it's lovely beaches, yachts, and beach huts.
But argggh. Birra Moretti. I later decided to assuage my angry tastebuds at a pub farther up in town with a local beer called Unicorn. And it was great. Because when you have a good beer, you label it with a unicorn, not an old man in a green fedora. Thank you Welsh brewers, for knowing the difference.
