Skiddaw

Sunday 11th April 2004

On this walk I climbed a fell that I had failed to climb the year before due to bad weather. Skiddaw is a three thousand foot high mountain that dominates the scene around Keswick and draws crowds of people up its wide footpaths. The previous year I had tried to climb Skiddaw by the Edge, a narrow ridge that passes over Ullock Pike before rising to the heights of Skiddaw Man. After being thwarted in my efforts then due to the bad weather (although my inexperience may have really been why I turned back – a few years later I would have probably gone up), I was now determined to get to the top so I decided to take the wide tourist route. Most tourists would have actually driven a least a third of the way up, to the car park at the end of Gale Road before starting their ascent, however since I didn’t have a car to use and I preferred a more honest starting point, I started from the Youth Hostel in Keswick crossing Fitz Park to Spoony Green Lane and began with a lovely climb through woodland around Latrigg.

I didn’t divert from my intended destination by being distracted into going to the top of Latrigg, but followed the clear path beyond steeply up the hillside. Eventually the steep climb eased as the path turned to the north-west to reach a fence on Jenkin Hill. I didn’t cross the fence, but turned off the main path keeping the fence to my right while on my way up to Little Man, a prominent mountain that suffers from its close association to Skiddaw, and is even sometimes named after it: Skiddaw Little Man. The only reason I was going to the top was to bag it, however Wainwright failed to recommend the Skiddaw Tourist Route as a way up Little Man and perhaps a mere walk along the ridge to ‘bag it’ does Little Man a disservice. A proper climb of Little Man would be from Millbeck or Applethwaite and is needed to fully appreciate the true stature of this mountain.

I came back down the ridge on the other side of Little Man and rejoined the tourist track to continue up the stony path to the summit of Skiddaw. With warm weather on this Easter Sunday there were many people milling around the top, including a man with a huge aerial on his back making or receiving radio transmissions. I quickly walked north away from the crowds at the summit to the north top, which I found to be curiously devoid of people. In clear weather I’m sure the views northwards are terrific, unfortunately on this occasion I was surrounded by clouds, however as I returned to the summit the eastern slopes opened to reveal stunning vistas of the surrounding country. On my subsequent visits to the top of Skiddaw I have always suffered with poor weather (often snow, which makes finding a suitable picture to accompany this blog difficult), and so I have rarely had a view. On this occasion I had good weather, but patchy cloud meaning that any views were fleeting at best.

Eventually I began to descend loose slopes south-west towards Carl Side with the scenery finally opening up to provide me with glorious sunlit views of the adjacent valleys and across Bassenthwaite Lake. My descent on the loose stones seemed pathless on a featureless unrelentingly steep slope and definitely not to my liking. I would have hated to have tried to walk up it so despite the crowds on the tourist route I thought that was preferable to this hard slog. Having subsequently climbed this steep slope I now know there are paths that take a gentler route up, but there are no good routes up the steep, stony slopes of Skiddaw. A short climb brought me to the top of Carl Side where I was able to view the delicious scenes of Derwent Water to the south; the weather, which had been improving by the minute, were now finally producing the picture postcard scenes that you get in the Lake District.

From Carl Side I headed north along Longside Edge over Ullock Pike and down the Edge, the ridge that I had tried to use as my ascent route the year before. This time I had a fabulous walk in excellent weather with extensive views to the north and with views to the west and south that would keep improving all the way down, while the summit of Skiddaw resolutely held onto its clouds. Once I was off the Edge I turned around and headed back to Keswick through Dodd Wood walking a short distance away from the road for much of the way before heading up to the villages of Millbeck and Applethwaite where there is an amazing vantage point and a diagram that shows a plan of the view before you over Keswick and across Derwent Water with the fells of Borrowdale lining the horizon. By now it was a clear hot day with every hill out of the clouds and a stunning view. Why go abroad when you can have views like this?

Blencathra by Fell’s Fell Ridge

Saturday 10th April 2004

At this time of the year on my blog I run out of walks that I have done and in order to keep posting something every week I go back to a walk that I did many years ago that hasn’t previously been covered. However, this practice is not going to work for much longer as I’m soon going to run out of old walks to go on my blog, but that is not a problem yet as I have a fantastic holiday in the Lake District to describe from Easter 2004. Subsequent to this holiday I have returned to the Lake District at Easter more often than not as it is a great time of the year to be walking in the Lakes and a great place to walk at Easter. Previous to this visit I had been to the Lake District on just two occasions and so I was still at this time relatively inexperienced at fell-walking and this showed in the choices that I made and the walks that I did, however this holiday also shows progress compared with my two previous visits. Every time you go to the Lake District you learn a little more about yourself and that fabulous place.

At the start of the holiday I spent all morning on that first day travelling to the Lake District, arriving in Penrith at noon where I caught a bus to Threlkeld and headed straight across the fields at the back of the village to the foot of Hall’s Fell. I stopped only briefly to have my lunch before beginning to climb the steep heather-clad fell. The going wasn’t too bad with a clear path leading me most of the way until I reached the rocks at the top of the ridge and from then on I enjoyed a fabulous scramble while trying to decide the best route across the rocks. Route selection is always part of the challenge on steep scrambles, even if they are on narrow ridges such as this. Bear in mind that I was inexperienced in scrambling at this point, so I was not able to draw on my previous experience to enable me to select the best route. On a number of occasions I clambered up some seriously steep rocks only to find an easier path on the other side that I could have taken.

I have subsequently descended Hall’s Fell Ridge twice, in 2006 and 2011, both times after climbing the much trickier scramble of Sharp Edge on the other side of Blencathra, but I have not climbed Hall’s Fell Ridge again since this first time, which must be a shame as it is a great way of climbing to the top of a mountain. With luck, on that first ascent I was easily able to negotiate the steep rocky ridge and finally reached the summit of Blencathra, known as Hallsfell Top, which lies at the very top of the ridge. When I got to the summit I found that I was in luck again as the cloud that covered the fells to the south was absent not only from the top of Blencathra itself, but over all of the northern fells including Skiddaw which revealed to me magnificent views across the fells and beyond to the Solway Firth and into Scotland. Subsequent visits to the top of Blencathra have almost always been when snow has been on the ground (such as below) and the only exception was at Easter 2011, when I had low cloud.

The best views from the top of Blencathra are towards Derwent Water and Keswick and that was where I now headed proceeding west along the top of Blencathra, which is something I usually do when on the fell even when I’m not descending in that direction as the views west open out gloriously as you walk along the ridge. There is only a small drop to the next top, Gategill Fell, and you don’t lose much height before reaching Knowe Crags, at the end of the ridge, at the top of Blease Fell. This is a fabulous walk along the top of the world with great views ahead towards Derwent Water and the distinctive fells of the north west corner of the Lake District. At the top of Blease Fell a steep descent brought me down the grassy slopes with trails cut through the bracken lower down that led me all the way to the car park near the Blencathra Centre.

There is a great route to Keswick from the Blencathra Centre that wasn’t possible when Wainwright wrote his pictorial guide to the Northern Fells, but is now mentioned in Chris Jesty’s revised edition.  I knew about that route long before the revision came out and I took it now along a footpath behind the Blencathra Centre to the old farmhouse of Derwentfolds, continuing the descent to a footbridge over Glenderaterra Beck where a farmer’s access road brought me within striking distance of the old railway to Keswick. This railway was still active when Wainwright was writing his guides and finally closed in 1972. It is now open as a footpath from the outskirts of Threlkeld all the way to Keswick and is a great walk through the wooded valley of the River Greta with the railway crossing the river nine times on its four mile length. This was a wonderful way to end my first day in the Lake District and set me up for a great holiday to come.

Manorbier to Bosherston

Saturday 30th August 2014

On the final day of my holiday on the Pembrokeshire Coast Path I was surprised to realise that I was disappointed to be leaving Pembrokeshire. I had become used to walking many miles along the coast and despite the often unchanging routine of the landscape I missed it when I moved away from the coast. The last section of the coastal path that I did on this holiday was twelve miles from the Manorbier Youth Hostel to village of Bosherston where I had to catch a bus to start my journey home. When I left the hostel the sun was shining, which I felt was a welcome change from the previous day and what had unfortunately been the norm for much of this holiday. The rocks on this section of the Pembrokeshire coast are red sandstone, which contrasted strikingly with the volcanic rocks that I had seen earlier in my holiday. There were none of the high, dramatic sea cliffs and instead the coast was more heavily eroded with gently descending slopes down to the sea.

Generally I prefer volcanic rocks, but I still thought the coastline was spectacular and I really enjoyed my walk once I passed Manorbier Range as I was able to get a lot closer to the sea than I had been able to earlier in the holiday. There were striking vertical stripes in the rocks on the coast as I rounded Priest’s Nose and passed around Manorbier Bay, but because I had a bus to catch I needed to ensure that I kept up a brisk pace and I’d set myself targets to reach at certain locations within a timeframe that would enable me to catch the bus. Despite needing to average three miles an hour I was easily able to maintain the required pace thanks to a lack of steep gradients as the trail lacked the steep ups and downs that I’d suffered earlier in the week. Swanlake Bay and Freshwater East came and went until I reached Stackpole where the rock changed from red sandstone to grey limestone.

The change in the rock was obvious and led to a clear change in the coastline with caves, blowholes and arches becoming common place. This section of Pembrokeshire has been described as typifying why the coast was worthy of National Park status, but unless I was in too much of a hurry I really couldn’t see the appeal. While the coastline was heavily eroded into a complex line of cliffs, the land above the cliffs was flat and uninteresting apart from the multitudinous wildflowers that covered the meadows wherever farming allowed. Unfortunately I prefer the more rugged, brutal landscape of the volcanic rocks to this more beautiful, soft landscape of limestone. After lingering far too briefly at the delectable Barafundle Bay I headed out onto Stackpole Head where limestone tried its utmost to change my mind.

Here limestone cliffs were at its best with deep inlets, enticing sea-level caves and steep cliff-faces that were proving too enticing for many people who were scaling their sheer faces. I wandered around this popular point in awe of the amazing rock formations and took many pictures. Fortunately I had maintained such a fast pace during the course of the morning that I was now able to spend quite a bit of time at Stackpole Head and look at the disintegrating rocks of the peninsula. Eventually I tore myself away and made my way along the coast to Broad Haven where the path, continuing to St Govan's Head, enters Castlemartin Range, which has restricted access. In order to ensure that I caught my bus I decided to leave the coast at Broad Haven, and so I didn't need to worry about access problems and headed straight towards the village of Bosherston.

However, I had an ulterior motive as I wanted to visit the famous Lily Ponds of Bosherston. Behind Broad Haven are three limestone valleys that have been dammed to create stunning lakes that are teeming with wildlife, and most notably lilies. The lilies are at their best in early summer and since I was now a couple of months late the display was not as good as they could be, but it was still an awesome sight and to see these ponds almost full of water lilies was incredible. I was astounded by these lakes and could have easily spent the rest of the day slowly walking around and exploring the whole delightful area. Unfortunately I wasn’t able to do that, so instead I followed the route of the coastal path (for when the range is closed) over Grassy Bridge to the central causeway where the lilies of the Lily Ponds could be seen in all their glory.

Although there were only a few white lilies in bloom there was still a stunning sight before me that only got better as I climbed to the top of a small limestone hill where I behold the incredible sight of these ponds full of lilies. To see these ponds in June or July must be an awesome sight and something that is going to be difficult to avoid. Beyond the second causeway a short climb brought me to the village of Bosherston where I caught a bus to start my journey home. The Lily Ponds were a fabulous end to a holiday that was considerably more enjoyable than I’d anticipated or hoped. I usually walk up mountains, so I wasn’t sure how I would enjoy coastal walking, but I loved the coastal paths and especially the challenge of walking twenty-four miles every day for several days. I was astonished by how much I’d enjoyed the Pembrokeshire coast, so much so that as I was leaving on the bus I was thinking about returning so I could walk the sections of the path that I’d missed this time.

Saundersfoot to Manorbier

Friday 29th August 2014

My original plan for this day was to continue my walk along the Pembrokeshire Coast Path from Broad Haven, where I had reached on the trail the previous day, along the coast around the Marloes Peninsula as far as the village of Dale. Unfortunately due to a lack of availability at the Poppit Sands Youth Hostel at the start of my holiday I had been forced to delay the start of my walk around the Pembrokeshire Coast by one day and that day had to be lost somewhere and this was where it was done. Beyond Dale the coastal path enters the vast estuary of Milford Haven, an area outside of the national park dominated by unsightly oil refineries and liquefied natural gas plants. Although the trail goes past these industries I had no intention of doing so. Instead, after spending several years trying to devise a way of circumventing the enormous natural harbour, I eventually came up with a plan that literally approached it from the other direction.

Instead of restarting the coastal path after Milford Haven I caught a bus to the seaside town of Saundersfoot, just four miles from the end of the Pembrokeshire Coast Path, or is that four miles from the start? From there I walked back along the coast towards Milford Haven on the last two days of my holiday. I didn’t like the seaside resort of Saundersfoot so I quickly set off along the coast path initially along a road due to the beach route being inaccessible at high tide. The weather for this walk was once again poor with high winds, low cloud and the ever-present threat of rain. This made the walk rather tricky underfoot with slippery paths as I made my way along an otherwise pleasant route through Rhode Wood, which I thought was a nice change as woodland had been rather lacking on the trail until this point. A lot of gradient changes on the path made this a particularly tiring walk and the slippery ground did not make it any easier.

On reaching Monkstone Point I took a narrow path off the trail that ventured towards the end of the promontory, but ended above high cliffs, so I headed quickly back onto the trail reaching it just as it started to rain heavily. With the rain falling I took a very steep and very slippery path down onto Monkstone Beach where I immediately realised I had gone the wrong way. A man on the beach told me that several people over the last couple of days who had been fooled into taking the steep path down onto this beach, but that was no consolation for me having to climb all the way back up the steep and slippery path to the top of the promontory. The proper path continued to undulate with many ups and downs until eventually I reached the delightful seaside town of Tenby, and I was so relieved to have finally reached Tenby that I stopped and had my lunch overlooking the North Beach.

I am told that I have been to Tenby before, but since I was a small child at the time I have no memory of it, and the sight of it now didn’t awaken any dormant memories. However, this is a shame as I really enjoyed Tenby and was not in a hurry to rush through the resort. Where Saundersfoot was filled with amusement arcades, Tenby had a lot of promenades that were a pleasure to walk along where one could survey the wonderful beach at the bottom of the cliffs. I suppose my preference in seaside resorts are for those that have more of a Victorian feel to them rather than those that have a more commercialised, twentieth century feel to them; I prefer Torquay to Blackpool. I didn’t have a lot of miles to cover this day, unlike on my previous three days, so I was able to spend time exploring Tenby and walk to the top of Castle Hill before starting a gentle stroll along the beach.

Tenby South Beach is very extensive and except for a brief climb up to the cliff-top promenade I walked along the sands all the way from St Catherine’s Island to Giltar Point. Despite very strong winds I scrambled all the way to the end of the promontory for the great views that could be seen through the mist over the sands back to Tenby. From there I resumed the coastal path through Penally Rifle Range, which fortunately wasn’t active and was carpeted with a lovely display of wildflowers. However, the weather deteriorated at this point, and it hadn’t been great all day. It started raining again so I wrapped myself up in waterproofs again, kept my head down and kept going along the path without paying much notice to my surroundings. The rain stopped as I approached Lydstep Haven, which enabled me to drop down onto the beach before climbing up to Lydstep Point.

The rocks at this point were very different to those I’d previously seen as limestone was now the dominant rock which created a terrain remarkably different to those that I had seen on other sections of the coastal path. The weather failed to improve during the last little section of the day that brought me from Lydstep to the Manorbier Youth Hostel. This walk was considerably shorter than on my previous days when I had walked about twenty-four miles each day, and had become used to it. I now almost missed the long distances and with this walk being no more than ten miles I was left feeling rather disappointed. I might actually prefer longer walks, but I think the difference with this walk is that the terrain was less dramatic than I’d previously seen and the weather was poorer than the day before.

St David’s to Broad Haven

Thursday 28th August 2014

For the third day running on my holiday along the Pembrokeshire Coast Path I had a long walk of twenty four miles. When you are walking that sort of distance you have no time to stop and explore or even to simply enjoy the surroundings because you know that you have to keep going in order to maintain a steady pace of at least three miles an hour. Good weather helps a lot in the enjoyment of a walk, which I had not had on my previous couple of days and as I left the St David’s Youth Hostel the weather was no better with rain and thick clouds. Nevertheless, I set off early in the morning and made my way back to the coast at Whitesand Bay, however it soon stopped raining and after I left Whitesands the sun came out and afforded me with fabulous weather for the rest of the day. What had looked like being terrible weather turned out to the best weather of the holiday.

After passing St Justinian's the coastal path headed around the rugged Treginnis Peninsula, a National Trust property, which has delightfully unspoilt terrain that slopes gently down to the sea and afforded me with tremendous views across the strong currents of the Ramsey Sound to Ramsey Island, a bird reserve. I was astonished by how strong the current was in the Sound as it was stronger than what is normally found in rivers, and yet this was the sea. I really enjoyed the walk at this point of the day with moorland flowers, easy walking, warm sunshine and hardly a breath of wind. I sailed around the coast making good progress due to a lack of steep gradients and so all too soon I left the Treginnis Peninsula behind and after passing Porthlysgi the terrain became more undulating with more of the dramatic cliffs that I had been seeing all week.

The bright sunshine seemed to be making the views so much better than I had seen previously in the week even though the coast was very similar to what I had already seen, and this just added to my delight as I made my way along the coast. The popularity of this coastline was apparent from the large numbers of people that I passed on the path, no doubt drawn out by the good weather, but also due to the quality of the coastline and the proximity to abundant accommodation available in St David’s. However, nothing on this section of the coast really stood out for me so just a couple of hours later I could not remember much about it, much less months later, as it was more of the same sort of thing that I had been experiencing all week, only this time it was under blue skies and bright sunshine. The quality of the coastline drew me on with the promise of more until eventually the path turned inland and descended steeply to the harbour at Solva.

I had my lunch in this idyllic place before climbing to the top of a narrow wooded ridge, Gribin, that separates Solva Harbour from the unspoilt cove of Gwadn, the contrast between the two being very marked. With the wind picking up once again the terrain became steeper starting with a steep descent from the Gridin. The weather had been helping on this walk, but now a strong wind was blowing into my face and the only time I had respite was when climbing steeply out of the many coves that I encountered until eventually I reached the last hill where I had a spectacular view of the vast Newgale Sands spread out before me. The sands stretch for several miles and by far my best option would have been to go down onto the beach and stroll along the surf beside the sea. The many miles that I still had to cover and because the tide was a long way out were the main reasons why I didn’t, but also because the beach was crowded with people.

Instead I stayed on the road, which is the designated Coast Path, all the way down to the southern end of Newgale Sands where the trail climbs once more onto the top of the cliffs for the final section to Broad Haven. The wind was now even stronger and the terrain even hillier with many descents and re-ascents into coves that were now calling themselves havens starting with Nolton Haven before continuing with Madoc’s Haven and Druidston Haven before finally I reached destination: Broad Haven. Despite the challenging terrain and a strong headwind I seemed to make very good progress and reached Broad Haven surprisingly early. I don’t know how I managed that, or maybe the good weather had been spurring me on to a greater pace. Certainly it seemed that with this being my third day in a row walking about twenty-four miles I was becoming used to the challenge.

I suppose with hindsight I shouldn’t have rushed so much on this walk and I probably had plenty of time to go down to the sea at Newgale Sands and walk beside the surf. At the time I didn’t realise just how much time I had made up so I wasn’t able to take advantage of it. When I got to Broad Haven I tried to correct this by going down onto the beach and walk along the sands for a distance before finally going to the youth hostel. The highlight of this walk was definitely the wild flowers, and most notably, on Treginnis Peninsula that benefitted by a lack of human intrusion into the terrain. Newgale and Broad Haven were packed with people so were less to my liking. It is curious how refreshed I felt at the end of this walk compared with how exhausted I had been at the end of the similar length walks two days previously to Pwll Deri. It seemed like I was not only beginning to really enjoy walking twenty-four miles a day, but my body was becoming used to it. Despite the strong winds in the afternoon I had great weather and a great walk over high cliffs, past picturesque coves and stunning beaches.

Pwll Deri to St David’s Head

Wednesday 27th August 2014

After a tiring twenty-four mile walk the day before, I set off early on this walk from the busy Pwll Deri Youth Hostel for another twenty-plus miles. These long days were dictated by the distance between youth hostels, but there was no reason why I couldn’t have stopped at a spot half way between the youth hostels as several people at the hostel told me they had done. Undaunted, I was deliberately doing a walk of similar length to the one the previous day that had worn me out. The start was great as I continued over the craggy ground that I had enjoyed at the end of the day before where heather, gorse and many other wild flowers were interspersed with crags that had me dancing from rock to rock in delight. All too soon, at Penbwchdu, the Pembrokeshire Coast Path turned south to descend off the glorious ridge and onto more gentle terrain. Such mountaintop-like terrain is rare on a coastal path and all too fleeting on this walk.

I didn’t find the walking too difficult this day compared with the previous as I had less of the steep ascents and descents in and out of coves that had so worn me out with most of the walking being along the top of high cliffs. By this point in the holiday I had seen so many of these dramatic cliffs that I was beginning to get rather bored with them. The main problem I was finding with this coastal trail was the unchanging scenery of never-ending cliffs for mile and after mile that all blured together. It has been difficult for me to remember something particular about each of the walks that I hadn’t seen all week. The twin bays of Aber Bâch and Aber Mawr with their pebbly beaches were distinctive enough to be memorable, but trying to identify where a particular photograph was taken is rather difficult because it could have been taken from any point along the walk. In the end the time stamp on the picture is the only thing that is different about it.

Eventually I reached the outskirts of the village of Trefin, which used to have a youth hostel, closed by the YHA at the end of 2006, and now an independent hostel called the Old School Hostel. This is where most people would have halted for the day but I had not covered much more than ten miles by this point and was less than half way through my day, so I climbed up the road away from the village and along the coast to the industrial past at Porthgain. This used to be a busy port serving various quarries and a brick works in the area has left its mark on the land. A notable feature were two stone columns on either side of the mouth of the harbour with the western one whitewashed while the eastern one is not. After visiting the eastern tower, near a ruined quarry building, I found a bit of wall to shelter behind from the strong winds and had my lunch. During the morning the wind had been gradually picking up and continued to grow throughout the afternoon.

After lunch I felt like I had been making such good progress on the walk that I could afford the luxury of exploring the old quarries for a few minutes. There are some huge scars east of Porthgain where slate used to be excavated from the ground and these old quarries were an awesome sight to behold, but as always when walking twenty-plus miles I couldn’t linger, so I set off once more along the coastal path passing the spectacular beach at Traeth Llyfan. Before reaching Abereiddi Bay I came across the Blue Lagoon, a former quarry now flooded by the sea and a popular deep water diving pool. I diverted away from the coastal path in order to take a look at the Blue Lagoon (actually green), but was not tempted to join the people diving into its depths and instead I headed towards Abereiddy in order to continue heading along the coast towards St David’s Head.

The weather deteriorated further after I passed Abereiddy with strong winds and a little rain ensuring that I wouldn’t be tempted to stop and admire the views except in the charming cove of Aberpwll. Elsewhere I kept my head down and ploughed on climbing to a point near the distinctive peak of Penberry before descending back down the hill. I was tempted to climb to the top of Penberry, but the many miles and passing time, as well as the poor weather, prompted me to stay on the path. The terrain was now much wilder with heather and gorse abounding, which compensated for the poor visibility and bad weather. The nearby hills of Carn Llidi and Carn Lleithr drew my eye and influenced the terrain underfoot adding to my delight with the walk as I battled against strong winds on my approach to St David’s Head.

Despite the poor weather I felt compelled to keep going all the way along the peninsula as far as I could go to the very end of St David’s Head negotiating fabulous mountain-like terrain while keeping my head down from the vicious winds. Once I’d reached the end of St David’s Head I turned around and now with the wind behind me I headed back along the southern side of the peninsula with seemingly even stronger winds than I’d had on my way out. Eventually I rejoined the coastal path and followed it down to Whitesand Bay just as the rain started again. There I turned inland and walked along the road for a mile to the St David's Youth Hostel. This walk was not as tiring as the day before, mainly because the terrain was not so strenuous with long sections along the tops of the cliffs. Nevertheless there were still some fabulous bits to the walk particularly when I was walking through rich, wildflower meadows such as on the approach to St David’s Head that made for a satisfying walk.

Newport to Pwll Deri

Tuesday 26th August 2014

Despite forecasts of more rain after the poor weather that I’d suffered on my previous day's walk, I was fortunate to have surprisingly good weather for most of this walk. Just before setting off I realised that my mileage on this walk was going to be considerably larger than on my previous couple of days. For some reason I had thought that I was going to be walking fourteen miles again, but it was actually a tiring twenty-four miles. The leisurely walking that I have been enjoying since the start of this holiday was now over as in order to cover that distance I would have to keep up a consistently brisk pace throughout the day. When you are walking no more than about sixteen miles a day you can afford to take your time and average only about two miles an hour, which means you are able to stop whenever you like to look at the view, take some pictures or even divert briefly to some place that looks interesting; in short you can relax. When the walk is more than twenty miles then you can’t do any of those things and instead you have got to keep your average speed approaching three miles an hour.

This is very difficult when climbing a mountain, or when walking along a constantly undulating coastline such as on the Pembrokeshire Coast Path. This was the prospect that faced me as I set off from the small town of Newport along the coastal path near the mouth of the Afon Nyfer when the tide was completely in. There is a short section of the trail on the outskirts of Newport that is only passable at low tide so I had to take an alternative, high tide route. Despite this I had an interesting walk beside the estuary with the water right up to the seawall until eventually I left the town behind and climbed back up to the clifftop above Cat Rock where I had views across the estuary. There are some tall cliffs along this section that are really spectacular, though the foliage was very dense, encroaching on the path and restricted the width to almost nothing. The considerably newer Ceredigion Coast Path doesn’t have this problem while the Pembrokeshire Coast Path (opened in 1970) is clearly in need of not only a trim but also some maintenance.

Despite the eroded footpath I was able to keep my pace up as I walked past several bays and eventually reached the road that descends steeply into the delightful village of Cwm-yr-Eglwys, the valley of the church, which has a ruined churchyard at the mouth of a valley where the sea once actually destroyed the church buildings. I quickly passed through this tourist magnet and began climbing steeply onto Dinas Island, a promontory with gentle slopes down to the valley that connects it to the mainland and fabulous cliffs on its northern edge. The path climbed steeply through dense bracken to a stunning viewpoint where I had great views along the coast both east back towards Ceredigion and west across Fishguard Harbour. The sun was shining at this point and made the summit of the island, Pen Dinas, a wonderful place to be and worth the tiring climb to get there. The views of the awesome, rugged coast beyond Dinas Island to Fishguard were spellbinding as I followed the gentle descent to Pwll Gwaelod.

Another steep climb took me back up to the clifftop for an exhausting walk to Fishguard along that stunning coastline. At this point however I had other concerns on my mind as my right ankle was beginning to hurt, possibly because of the worn out sole on my boots, but I since I had to keep my pace up I tried to keep going. While at the top of the cliffs the walking was easy, but there were frequent descents into coves and steep ascents out of them that really tried my stamina. The views along the stunning coastline spurred me to keep going as did the sight of a ferry from Ireland coming into Fishguard Harbour. Eventually I reached the delightfully unspoilt, tiny fishing port of the lower town of Fishguard. In the sunshine and with the smell of seaweed pervading everywhere I had my lunch before setting off once more along the coastal path.

A tarmacked path, signposted the Marine Walk, took me around the modern town of Fishguard above the seacliffs that overlook the harbour while my right foot once again gave me problems. I stopped several times to readjust the laces on my boots in an effort to ease my suffering, but nothing seemed to help and I started to have visions of being forced to abandoning my walking on this holiday. I have been very lucky so far with injuries, but I was beginning to think that this might be terminal, at least for this week. I did start wondering if at some point in the future something serious might actually happen to me even if it only left me on crutches for a couple of weeks. Fortunately that wasn’t now as the pain eventually eased and I was able to keep going with loosened laces, even if my pace had slowed since my initial burst of speed out of Newport. After walking along the Marine Walk I approached the ferry terminal mindful of the fact that I would not be passing another shop for several days, so I stocked up with food before passing the ferry terminal and steeply climbing the hillside above the harbour.

Eventually I resumed my walk along the coastal path just as a ferry started to leave Fishguard Harbour to return to Ireland. The walk in the afternoon was through relatively remote, gently undulating land with nothing to severely task me except for the many miles and also with less to raise my interest as the cliffs were now more rounded than previously on this holiday. As the miles dragged I wearily rounded Pen Caer and passed by the lighthouse and wildlife shelter at Strumble Head without a moment’s hesitation. The weather was poorer in the afternoon and the scenery was not as spectacular, but the terrain underfoot was much improved with more rock and even tiny bits of scrambling delight. Despite my fatigue I was enjoying the walk as I slowly made my way to the spectacularly situated youth hostel at Pwll Deri that lies below the prominent hill of Garn Fawr. This was a very long and tiring walk that really tried my stamina, but I really enjoyed it as I passed through some great terrain and gorgeous vegetation.

Poppit Sands to Newport

Monday 25th August 2014

The day before this walk I started the Pembrokeshire Coast Path at St Dogmaels on a road past the mouth of the River Teifi and up to the youth hostel that looks out over Poppit Sands. I had completed less than two miles of the trail, so the following day would be my first proper day on the Pembrokeshire Coast Path, but unfortunately it was misty, raining, windy and generally very poor. The start of the day was a continuation of the previous day's dull slog up the road until I reached the Allt-y-coed campsite where the trail finally left civilisation behind to plunge into the mists along the coastline. Throughout the walk between here and Newport Sands I only once came across a road, at Ceibwr Bay, whereas the rest of the walk, particularly during the second half of the day was on a remote and lonely section of the coastal path. The poor weather prevented me from being able to enjoy the walk as I simply kept my head down and ploughed on through the wind and rain.

Soon after leaving the road the trail heads around Cemmais Head, but I couldn’t see much in the mist. The best views were at my feet where purple bloomed heather was dotted around the ground and down the steep slopes to the sea with yellow flowered gorse adding to the scene. Near a disused Coastguard lookout station were some impressive cliffs that I’m sure would have looked awesome in better weather, but with the drizzle and mist my views of these dramatic cliffs were poor. Beyond that point the trail descended on an increasingly steep path to Pwll-y-Granant with more tremendous coastal scenery. The steep cliffs and amazing scenery was now coming so thick and fast that it all started to blur and when I looked back, even just a couple of hours later, it was hard for me to remember any specific details about the walk. The photos that I took at the time show a craggy coastline, but poor weather that detracts from the great views.

The coastline on the first half of the day was particularly spectacular as my photos attest, but I don’t remember anything noteworthy about the walk until I approached Ceibwr Bay. A steep, muddy, hence slippery, descent led me past groves of the alien nasty, balsam, that was taking over the landscape. Nevertheless Ceibwr Bay was a lovely spot so I stopped to explore and crossed the pebbly beach to the retreating sea where I had an enjoyable time immersing myself in the scenery despite the fact that it was still raining. I didn’t stop for an early lunch there, because of the rain, so I continued along the trail up to the headland south of the bay where the heavily gouged coastline north of the bay could be clearly seen with the churning sea adding to the dramatic scene.

This is a great part of the Pembrokeshire Coast and soon after leaving the mouth of the bay I was rewarded with the only sunshine of the day as I passed the dramatic sea stacks of Careg Wylan. With the sunshine out I stopped for lunch at the stunning surroundings of Pwll y Wrach. After all the terrible weather that I’d endured earlier in the day I felt lucky to be in such amazing scenery in gorgeous sunshine, but it wasn’t to last. Soon after leaving Pwll y Wrach the weather closed in again and as the weather deteriorated gradually so did the landscape. Bracken was now the dominant plant, rather than heather, and these bracken-covered slopes fell steeply all the way down to the sea with none of the deeply eroded cliffs that had so delighted me earlier in the day.

The absence of any photos taken during this period is a testament to the poor landscape and weather. This is the remotest section of the coastal path and with high winds to contend with I just kept my head down and kept going. The scenery finally improved with the re-emergence of cliffs at Trwyn y Bwa, but as I turned around the headland of Pen y bâl the weather was particularly fierce with strong winds and rain making the going particularly unpleasant. By the time I descended onto Newport Sands the weather had eased which made the final section of the walk beside the Afon Nyfer rather pleasant.

After the repetitive coastline of earlier in the day it was a welcome change for me to turn inland and walk beside the river until I reached Iron Bridge where I could cross the river and enter the town of Newport. There is lovely parkland between Newport and the river and this provided me with a lovely end to the walk, but more rain before I reached the youth hostel rounded off what had been a pretty miserable day. This walk showed that coastal walking can be a bit tedious when the scenery is unchanging, even when that scenery is good. Despite the poor weather on this walk, there were some really dramatic cliffs and secluded bays that were better than anything else that I would later encounter on the Pembrokeshire Coast Path.

Aberporth to Poppit Sands

Sunday 24th August 2014

After spending the night at an independent hostel near Aberporth I returned across farmland to the coastal path on the edge of Aberporth Airport (and military establishment). The point where I rejoined the Ceredigion Coast Path was at the head of the unspoilt valley of Cwm Gwrddon, which was densely wooded and a delight to walk through, but short-lived as the path soon climbed out of the valley and followed it down to the coast. Sadly, this was the best part of the walk which gradually deteriorated during the course of the day; however the coastal path was still good at this point with a great track positioned at the top of cliffs above the coastal slopes and below the fringe of farmland. The excellent path meandered around the coastline with many changes in elevation, twists and turns and with dense wild flowers lining the path. It was an interesting walk with bramble, knotweed, willowherb and gorse among many others providing close-up views while the cliffs up and down the coast also sought to attract my attention while walking along a delightful terrace path part way down the coastal slope under hazy sunshine. 

The overflowing vegetation was a real bonus on this early part of the walk even when it was Himalayan balsam that choked the streams. Balsam may be invasive but the flowers are so pretty and smell even better that I didn’t really mind. The wild feel to the walk diminished later in the morning when farmland came right up to the edge of the path so the dense vegetation that I had so loved earlier in the day  became less noticeable. The cliffs to my right remained a draw, particularly where the rocky promontory of Pen-Peles drew me away from the path for a closer look. Just beyond this point a small prominent hill came into view and tempted me to climb it. Foel y Mwnt is not very high (a puny 76 metres above sea level), but since it lies right next to the sea the conical hill appears more striking than it deserves.

When I finally reached the foot of the hill I couldn’t resist the temptation to leave the coastal path and climb the short slope to the narrow summit where I had a stunning view along the coast both back along the coast towards Aberporth and onward along the coast past Cardigan Island to Cemmais Head. From the top I made my way down to the tiny, picturesque, sandy cove of Mwnt where the coastal path continued and climbed back up to the top of the cliffs before ending at a rather solid looking barrier. A clear path could be seen to continue beyond the barrier but according to the official website for the Ceredigion Coast Path this route was still in development (even though the rest of the coastal path opened in 2009) and so I needed to take a dreary diversion. This is a shame as the map seems to show that the missing coastline is quite spectacular, and includes a natural arch.

After lunch at the barrier, while looking out across the sea, I turned inland up the hill to the village of Y Ferwig and then along a road to Gwbert. This was really tedious and didn’t improve after I rejoined the Ceredigion Coast Path at Gwbert as I was still on tarmac walking along the pavement beside a road marked on my map as Coronation Drive. This day had started as being a fantastic walk through such great, wild terrain that I was enthusing about it to myself thinking that this was almost as good as mountain walking. It was such a joy to walk along that path, but the coastal path, when it turned into the Teifi estuary, deteriorated into tedium in extenso. My destination, Poppit Sands, was actually just across the estuary, but I would have to follow the river all the way to the town of Cardigan before I could cross the river and walk all the way back to Poppit Sands.

At one point during my trudge I got fed up and came down onto the sands near Pen yr Ergyd, but since it was so tiring to walk on sand this did not help me so I climbed back up to the road and followed that until I reached the point where the road turns inland and the coastal path heads through fields towards Cardigan. When I eventually reached the town of Cardigan I had come to the end of the Ceredigion Coast Path, but the Pembrokeshire Coast Path hadn’t started yet. In the absence of a county coastal path to follow I followed the Wales Coast Path through fields above the southern banks of the river into the pretty village of St Dogmaels and the official start of the Pembrokeshire Coast Path. I felt like there should be a huge sign and bright lights designating the start of the path, but instead there is a nondescript structure at the side of the road that was not obviously the start of anything.

Worse was the fact that the first couple of miles on the Pembrokeshire Coast Path is on a narrow road that follows the estuary back out towards the sea. My only consolation was found immediately after crossing a stream that marks the edge of the Pembrokeshire Coast National Park, and that is Poppit Sands. When the tide is out this is a vast expanse of sand that was a pleasure to walk along despite the effort required in walking on sand. This was a pleasing end to what had been a very mixed day. It started with a charming walk along the coast, but I got no enjoyment out of the walk after lunch as I felt that I was simply covering the miles, while the hazy sunshine that had accompanied me at the start soon faded to complement the dreary second half. I was already finding that costal paths are variable in their quality so that when at their best they can compare with mountain walking, but at their worst they are no better than walking down any street in Britain.

Aberporth to Ynys-Lochtyn

Saturday 23rd August 2014

I have for many years wanted to do a walk along the Pembrokeshire Coast Path, but never been able to construct a plan that ties all the hostels in with the bus timetable. I had planned to do the walk at Easter last year, but eventually I went back to the Lake District when I couldn’t find an convenient way of getting past Milford Haven, so when I finally came up with a solution to the ‘Milford Haven Problem’ I was eager to put it to the test and decided that late summer would be the best time. I had originally planned to start the holiday in Cardigan and on the first day I would walk just the first mile of the coastal path from St Dogmeals to the Poppit Sands Youth Hostel, but when I came to book the hostel I found it was fully booked. My solution was to start the walk further up the coast in the county of Ceredigion, but I struggled to find buses that would take me a suitable distance from my planned overnight accommodation in an independent hostel near Aberporth. I was keen for the walk to include Cwmtyddu, a spectacular path cut directly into the coastal slope, but a landslip earlier in the year had closed the path and forced yet another change of plans.

After much planning this first day was nothing like how it was originally planned, but I ended up with a great walk along a spectacular coastline. The solution to my problems that I eventually came up with was to take a bus to Aberporth and then walk away from Pembrokeshire to the prominent landmark of Ysys-Lochtyn before catching a bus back to Aberporth. I had fabulous weather for this walk and judging by the weather forecast it seemed like this was going to be the best weather that I would have for the entire week so I was determined to make the most of it, despite walking for less than three hours as I didn’t reach Aberporth until two o’clock, but as soon as I got there I set off along the coastal path high above dramatic cliffs already getting a taste of the delights that awaited me on this holiday. The path for the first section of the walk is described as being an Inclusive Access Cliff Top Trail, in other words it’s tarmacked, however there were still many opportunities for stunning views down the cliffs.

Once the path narrowed the rough, steep trail was lined with bramble, bilberry and willowherb, and undulated dramatically making for a strenuous but enjoyable walk in the sunshine. A steep descent brought me down to the packed seaside resort of Tresaith and after passing through the tourist-trap I was faced with a steep ascent out of the narrow valley. After that steep climb a more gradual descent took me to the gorgeous beach of Penbryn. The coastal path doesn’t come all the way down to the beach, but stays above it before passing into a dark, narrow, tree-covered valley that was truly magical. Another steep climb took me away from Penbryn and back up onto the cliff-tops before a steep descent near Carrog y Nogwydd took me down into another steep sided valley where another steep climb led me to the earthworks of Castell-bach. Despite the steep, undulating terrain, and probably because of it, I was really enjoying this walk, however the goal of my walk was already within sight: the headland of Ynys-Lochtyn.

Gradually I descended once more, and this time into the seaside resort of Llandrannog, which for some reason I thought was a much nicer place than Tresaith. Llandrannog is smaller and narrower, and perhaps it seemed to me less spoiled by commercialism and tourism, despite the crowds. Continuing along the rutted coastal path I climbed steeply out of the village and up to the iconic promontory of Ynys-Lochtyn. The path skirts around the northern slopes of the hill, Pen-y-badell, high above the headland so when the path started to turn I headed straight on down the hill onto the narrow strip of land that juts out into the sea where stunning views could be seen across the headland and towards the small island of Ynys-Lochtyn at the end with dramatic cliffs on all sides, particularly on the island itself. A small stony causeway gives access onto Ynys-Lochtyn, but the gradients down were so steep I never contemplated attempting to make the crossing. I was content to simply gaze in awe at the tremendous scenery and wander around the headland looking at the awesome cliffs. 

The weather was at its best at this time and I was standing in a place of stunning beauty. I stayed as long as I could, but eventually I had to tear myself away in order to catch a bus, so I climbed back up to the coastal path and after climbing behind Pen-y-badell for a circuit of the hill I dropped back down onto the path for a speedy descent back into Llandrannog. This may have been a relatively short walk, but it was a wonderful taster for what I hoped I’d find on the Pembrokeshire Coast Path. Aside from the aforementioned path near Cwmtydu, this walk included the best sections of the Ceredigion Coast Path and they had set a very high standard for the Pembrokeshire Coast Path to follow. There were some stunning coastal cliffs and a lot of steep climbs on a short, undulating walk along a fabulous coastline.

The Black Mountains Memorial

Saturday 16th August 2014

Fifteen years ago, after many years of walking in the Peak District, I went up a mountain for the first time, though that is not a mountain in the international sense but in the British sense of a hill above two thousand feet. That hill was in the Black Mountains on the eastern edge of the Brecon Beacons National Park in Wales, and saw me climbing to a point that was not only above two thousand feet but up to the dizzying heights of seven hundred metres. The hills that I walked up on that day in 1999 were not in any way mountainous or challenging, but because they were where I did my first significant hill walk I still have a fondness for the grassy ridges that are collectively known as the Black Mountains. I have returned to the area many times since, notably in 2009 when I celebrated my tenth anniversary with a walk around the Black Mountains. On that occasion I commented on this blog: “I will be definitely making a date for five years from now, wherever I am, to come back to the Black Mountains and do a memorial walk over these fabulous hills once again.”

When I realised that the fifteenth anniversary was approaching I made plans for a week long holiday in the whole Brecon Beacons park, but eventually after much debate with myself I decided on a much simpler memorial. Instead of spending a whole week walking in the area I spent just a morning doing exactly the same walk that I had done almost fifteen years previously. On a cold day in August when what had been Hurricane Bertha was drawing strong, cold, northerly winds across Britain I drove at stupid o’clock in the morning to the Welsh border and parked in exactly the same car park that I’d used fifteen years ago, beside a stone circle at the foot of Hay Bluff. This is not the best place to park for this walk, which is why I’ve never parked there since, until now. On other visits I have usually parked at the top of the Gospel Pass while the best place to park is probably in the tiny village of Capel-y-ffin.

I had reached the car park so early in the morning there was still a significant amount of hill fog on the tops of the hills, but the strong winds soon began to blow the clouds away as I started to climb the steep path to the top of Hay Bluff. There was still a lot of cloud around when I got to the top so I couldn’t see the trig point, but I wasn’t bothered about this because I knew I would be returning to Hay Bluff at the end of the walk so I soon set off towards the Gospel Pass as the clouds lifted from the top of the hill to reveal gorgeous blue skies and tremendous views across the wide Wye Valley. While keeping to the edge of the escarpment I slowly descended Ffynnon y Parc to the top of the Gospel Pass with the views of the sprawling mass of Twmpa catching my eye with its steep northern slopes falling towards the tree lined foothills.

Despite the cold wind I felt like I was enjoying great weather as I dropped down to the Gospel Pass, one of the highest road passes in Wales, where good views could be seen south into the valley. On the other side of the pass I climbed up the slopes of Twmpa on a path that seems to have been heavily constructed since the last time I was there. I do recall some nasty scars on the hill previously at this point so I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I still thought the repairs were excessive, intrusive and made the climb too easy, or many other reasons why I’m never satisfied with constructed paths. Eventually I reached the shallow cairn at the top of Twmpa where the great views continued across the Wye Valley and also back towards Hay Bluff with the road through the Gospel Pass crossing the northern slopes of the escarpment.

By the time I’d reached the top of Twmpa clouds were beginning to cover the Wye Valley as the gorgeous weather that had started the walk began to fade. Turning south-east I headed down the boggy ridge of Darren Lwyd with the wet path making me regret not wearing waterproof shoes, and in fact I was starting to regret my entire wardrobe that was not what I’d normally wear for a walk, but instead echoes the clothes that I wore for that first walk fifteen years ago. Just as then I was wearing jeans and a cotton t-shirt, which is something that I would not normally consider wearing for a hill walk, but I had been expecting better weather for this short walk. Perhaps my choice of clothing reflects how I viewed the walk, which even though originally was my first mountain walk, I did not now see as being a mountain walk compared with others that I have done since. That was tempting fate, but I was able to put a fleece on that kept me warm enough despite the inappropriate clothes and so long as I kept going I wouldn’t get too cold. 

During my walk along Darren Lwyd I had fascinating views across the valley to my left and up to the ridge beyond that carries the English border, and at the end were great views down the length of the Vale of Ewyas, a beautiful valley that is a perfect example of glaciation. Slowly I made my way down the steep bracken covered slopes to Capel-y-ffin, the chapel of the boundary. Other sources that describe this walk recommend walking along the road from Capel-y-ffin and crossing the river up to the Vision Farm, but in 1999, and on all my subsequent visits, I have taken an alternative route past two tiny chapels and along a path part way up the eastern slopes of the valley. The path was muddy in places on this occasion, but that didn’t prevent me from enthusing over a path that brought back so many happy memories of previous visits. Just before reaching the Vision Farm I took a path that climbs steeply through bracken up the side of the valley, and on reaching the edge of the open hillside led me steeply through dense bracken up the side of the valley.

In 1999 it was really hot while climbing the hill at this point, but now the cold wind ensured that I kept cool as I climbed all the way up to the top with stunning views of the valley accompanying me all the way to the Offa’s Dyke Path at the top of the ridge. This path also appears to have been heavily reconstructed with the old route bulldozed away to be replaced with an easy gravel path. The Offa’s Dyke Path may be popular, but does that excuse building a path that removes all the effort and interest? It could be said that you should never return to the places of your youth because they won’t be as good as you remember. There may have been a lot of changes over the years on this path that follows the English border but at least they ensured that I kept my feet dry as I walked along the broad ridge north over the highest point on the walk, an unnamed 700 metre hill, and all the back to Hay Bluff.

This may not be the greatest walk that anyone could do, but it does have the distinction of being the first hill walk that I did outside of the Peak District. The thing that initially brought me to the area was Hay-on-Wye, the original Town of Books, and actually that was where I went after this walk. Books may have led me to the Black Mountains, but what developed when I got there was a love for hill walking that remains to this day. Twmpa and Hay Bluff are not the highest or the most exciting hills in Britain, but they are the hills that ignited a passion in me to climb to the top of many other hills in Britain in the following fifteen years, and for that I owe them a great debt and appreciation. Despite the changes that have been made to the paths over the years, the hills remain as a memorial to that walk that launched hundreds of subsequent walks.

A’ Ghlas-bheinn

Friday 6th June 2014

For the last day of my two week holiday in Scotland it looked like the weather was going to be as poor as it had been for most of that week, however just like on Tuesday the weather improved significantly and unexpectedly throughout the course of the day. I was staying in an isolated youth hostel at the top of the picturesque valley of Glen Affric having walked up the valley in poor weather conditions the previous day. My plan for this day had been to walk up the Munro to the north that overlooks the hostel, Sgurr nan Ceathreamhnan, a hill that is often mispronounced. Wainwright, in his book ‘Wainwright in Scotland,’ said that since he’d never mastered Gaelic he instead adopted roughly similar English equivalents; thus, for example, Ceathreamhnan was Chrysanthemum and I was amused to hear several people in the hostel giving it this name, however the correct pronunciation is much simpler: Kerranan.

Instead of taking the path uphill from the hostel into the cloud infested mountain I returned to the River Affric and followed it upstream for a short distance before turning up to follow the stream, Allt Beithe Garbh on an excellent path. If I’d continued beside the River Affric I’d have followed the track over a low pass into Glen Lichd that would have soon brought me back to Loch Duich, but I fancied taking a more interesting route so I followed the clear path into Gleann Gnìomhaidh towards Bealach an Sgàine. The National Trust for Scotland volunteers, who had been staying at the youth hostel, had clearly been at work on this path and made my walk both easy and a pleasure while ensuring that I maintained dry feet, but later their cleverly constructed handiwork ceased only to be replaced by a wide gravel path that seemed excessive and like a motorway. This motorway didn’t last very long, however, leaving me with a boggy path that attempted but ultimately failed to make a course along the valley.

It could be that on such boggy ground gravel was the only solution and as I struggled to make my way along the valley I longed for the gravel path again, despite the over-engineering. After reaching the end of the boggy path, and thanking my waterproof socks, I passed Loch a’ Bhealaich and began climbing steeply to the top of the pass. It had become obvious to me not long after leaving the hostel that the poor weather was not going to last as I could see the clouds were beginning to break further down Glen Affric which prompted me to rethink my plan for the day. With blue sky appearing down the valley I wondered if Sgurr nan Ceathreamhnan was a possibility after all, but the clouds at the top of the valley were taking too long to begin to lift to make that an viable option. Nevertheless as I climbed the, at times, good path up to the top of the pass I was thinking about which mountain I would now climb to take advantage of the good weather.

The top of Bealach an Sgàine was thick with clouds but I was still keen to climb one of the Munros either side of the pass. Beinn Fhada is to the south, but I climbed that in 2008 so despite it being a great mountain I decided to turn right and follow a narrow weaving path north towards the smaller Munro of A’ Ghlas-bheinn. I was attracted to the rocky, undulating ridge that leads from the pass to the summit and the clear path that steers an interesting route up the ridge. Despite the low cloud I enjoyed this ascent, and I was rewarded with occasional glimpses through the clouds into the loch-filled valley to my right. There is something rather magical about these snatching windows in the clouds, like you’re being given a glimpse of a far-off unknown country. I encountered a lot of tops on this undulating ridge and I was beginning to get frustrating with the never-ending succession until finally the summit cairn loomed into view and the clouds cleared briefly once more.

This was my ninth Munro of the holiday (when I also climbed two Corbetts) and the last hill of my holiday. Last year I only climbed four Munros so this is definitely an improvement, but nowhere near the twenty-plus Munros that I used to climb while in Scotland. The reduction is not so much because I’m getting older but because my priorities while in Scotland are now slightly different, though climbing a mountain still features prominently in my itinerary. As I sat beside the summit cairn of A’ Ghlas-bheinn I ate my lunch while the clouds continued to slowly lift from the hills around me to reveal stunning views through the windows in the cloud towards Loch Duich. It is usually very windy at the top of a mountain, but it was eerily quiet at the top of this one with very little wind that made sitting at the summit a tranquil, even magical moment.

From the summit of A’ Ghlas-bheinn I headed west around steep crags and onto a saturated grassy ridge that took me unevenly down as I tried to find the path that I had seen the previous Sunday after crossing the Allt Leòid Ghaineamhaich. I thought then that it would make a good descent route, but I hadn’t anticipated how wet the ground would be following the heavy rain of the last week. I could hear splashes with every footstep and on the steep bits I couldn’t keep a grip on the saturated ground and slipped over several times. Eventually I decided that this is not a good route and I was relieved when I finally reached the bottom beside the bridge that I had crossed on Sunday, but it would have been better if I’d descended north to Bealach na Sròine. This descent brought me onto one of the forest tracks that I had walked along on Sunday and I now had a long walk in tremendous sunshine back along the tracks and the road through Morvich to Loch Duich.

Since Sunday I had travelled from Loch Duich over the mountains to Cannich and then returned over the mountains along the mighty Glen Affric back to Loch Duich. It was an interesting, though changeable week, and at least I was able to enjoy some fabulous mountain scenery at the top of the highest mountains in the area, Màm Sodhail and Carn Eighe. Since lunchtime on this last day of my holiday, the weather had gotten better and better and now that I was back down in the valley it was really warm. The clouds were very slow to lift from the tops of the mountains and would not completely clear the tops until late in the afternoon and meanwhile I had a long walk ahead of me. From Dorusduain Wood I walked for three hours into Strath Croe and around the end of Loch Duich, past Shiel Bridge and along the shore on the other side of the loch to Ratagan Youth Hostel. The weather was so good I didn’t begrudge the walk as I enjoyed the magnificent Highland scenery for one last time before returning home the next day.

Glen Affric

Thursday 5th June 2014

On the day before this walk I did a fabulous walk over high mountains north of Glen Affric, but I returned to my tent in Gleann nam Fiadh, at the foot of these mountains, in worsening weather. Midges were swarming everywhere and forced me into my tent to gaze in awe at the thousands of tiny insects trying to get through the netting of my inner tent. It was fascinating to look at the midges and then to see them disappear as soon as it started to rain again, and this rain continued throughout much of the night and was not much better when I got up in the morning, so I packed up, left the spot where I had been staying for the last two nights and headed off back over the hill and down into Glen Affric. A short walk along a private road brought me back to the River Affric car park where I made use of the facilities.

There I met a couple who appeared to have camped beside the car park, and who were actually the first people I’d seen in over forty hours, more than two nights ago, having gone through the entire previous day without seeing a single person. You don’t get that sort of isolation in the Lake District! Throughout this holiday I had been timing the length of time that had passed between seeing people. Last year twenty-four hours passed while I walked along Glen Avon, slept and then climbed Ben Avon, without seeing anyone. Several times on this holiday I had gone twenty hours, but in this second week of my holiday I doubled that. For someone who dislikes crowds there’s something rather satisfying about that.

My plan for this day was to walk to the Youth Hostel near the top of Glen Affric and, while I had considered climbing Ciste Dhubh, when I reached the hostel the weather ensured that this was never seriously considered. In view of the poor weather I took a slow dawdling walk along the valley finally reaching the hostel before three o’clock. I actually could stop this article now and move onto the next day as there’s not really much more to tell, but I won’t. The first half of the day I was on a broad track walking beside the south bank of Loch Affric until at the far end of the loch I turned right, avoiding the path into Gleann na Ciche, to reach a building that is marked on maps as Athnamulloch with Strawberry Cottage on the other side of the river.

There were a surprisingly large number of cars near these buildings, including several National Trust for Scotland vehicles, and the explanation for this would be provided when I reached the hostel. After crossing the river beside Strawberry Cottage I felt like I had left civilisation behind, or what little there had been in the valley. The surroundings were now completely undeveloped with no other sign of the intrusion of man other than the narrow track that I was walking along. The infant River Affric meandered around the floor of the valley with the track at times closely following the river until eventually I reached the hostel, which reminded me of the Loch Ossian Youth Hostel that is similarly isolated, but with the added bonus of a shower (which I really needed!).

The National Trust vehicles were explained by the presence of a team of volunteers for the National Trust for Scotland who were staying at the hostel. When I had started planning this holiday I had considered volunteering here so it was interesting to see who I would have been working with if I had joined. My initial idea for this holiday in Scotland was simply to go to Glen Affric but ultimately I decided I wanted to achieve this under my own planning by walking along the entire length of the valley from the village of Cannich. I saw the valley in both rain and sunshine and was entranced by the seemingly unspoilt scenery that has actually been heavily influenced by man.

Although this day was heavily marred by the poor weather I still really enjoyed it. The rain or drizzle had stopped by noon enabling me to enjoy the slow walk along the valley before the rain started again soon after I reached the hostel. Ciste Dhubh, completely covered in cloud when I got there, is a mountain that I will have to climb another day. I do enjoy walking long distances along a good footpath through wild countryside. I don’t have to go to the top of a mountain to have a good walk and on a day like this it is much better staying on a good footpath at the bottom of the valley than trying to find your way in bad weather to the top of a mountain. When the weather is good then the top of a mountain is definitely the place to be as I found out the day before on this poor, dreich day.

Màm Sodhail and Carn Eighe

Wednesday 4th June 2014

The day before this walk I had headed up Glen Affric from the village of Cannich until near Affric Lodge I took a track that climbs up the side of the valley and once over the ridge led me down broad, boggy slopes to the bottom of Gleann nam Fiadh where I camped beside the river in a lovely spot. The weather that evening was fabulous and as I went to bed I was hopeful that the weather would be just as good the following day for a walk up the two big mountains at the top of the valley: Màm Sodhail and Carn Eighe. These are not just the highest mountains in the Glen Affric area, they are the highest mountains in Britain north of the Great Glen. After the many disappointments and setbacks that I suffered on this holiday I really needed to wake up to good weather, and that is what I got although the weather did deteriorate during the course of the day, but while it lasted I was able to enjoy a fabulous high level traverse on the ridge around Gleann nam Fiadh with these two mountains at the head.

When I got out of my tent in the morning there was hardly a cloud in the sky with just a little hill fog at the top of Màm Sodhail and Carn Eighe. I felt astonishingly lucky so after a quick breakfast I set off back up the broad slopes on the track that I had climbed the evening before until I reached the highest point at the top of the ridge where I came off the track and headed across the swampy ground towards the foot of Sgùrr na Lapaich. A slender path took me through the bogs with cairns helpfully marking my route and providing me with a satisfactory passage to the foot of the mountain. Unfortunately when the terrain began to steepen the cairns disappeared, which made things rather more difficult. In the end I followed a small stream, the southern branch of the Allt na Faing, onto a ramp that led me onto the southern slopes just as the clouds that I had hoped would lift from the highest tops actually descended onto Sgùrr na Lapaich.

Annoyingly, instead of the good weather that I had woken to, the cloud gradually built up around the top of the mountains during the morning. Behind me Glen Affric and all things eastward was bathed in sunshine, but the mountains westward were enveloped in cloud. As I reached the top of Sgùrr na Lapaich the clouds lifted slightly to afford me with a view along the ridge towards the still covered mountaintops of Màm Sodhail and Carn Eighe. Across Glen Affric there was a stunning view of the snow-speckled mountains of Kintyre dominated by the radiating ridges of Mullach Fraoch-choire and A ‘Chràlaig. Given its grand crags and isolated location, a good distance from Màm Sodhail, I felt that Sgùrr na Lapaich deserves to be a Munro and in fact Sir Hugh Munro himself added it to his tables, but its status was subsequently revised to that of merely a top and has tragically never been restored to the honour it so rightly deserves.

An intermittent path follows the top of the ridge over Mullach Cadha Rainich as I made my way up to the huge cairn at the top of Màm Sodhail and I was rewarded with a gradual lifting of the clouds so that by the time I reached the top of the Munro I had clear views to all the nearby mountains. It was great to be at the top of such a high mountain despite a low cloud level barely higher than the mountain itself. My eye was constantly being drawn south-west to the snow-speckled northern slopes of the mountains of Kintyre and beyond. This was such a stunning sight that the sunnier views eastwards couldn’t compete due to their lack of high mountains and I felt great to be at the top of a Scottish Mountain surrounded by mountains as far as I could see.

There is an enormous cairn at the top of Màm Sodhail, which Ralph Storer says in the definitive guide to the “100 Best Routes on Scottish Mountains” testifies to its former importance as a survey point during the OS mapping of the Highlands in the 19th Century. A steep descent on an excellent footpath took me down to the col where a less steep ascent brought me up to the top of Carn Eighe. When I reached the top of the Munro I couldn’t help noticing that the mountains to the west and to the north, particularly over Loch Mullardoch, had very dark clouds over them, while the sun shone on the hills to the south and to the east. While having my lunch beside the trig point at the summit I was astonished to see how strong the east-west difference can be, it almost felt like night and day. Rain was falling to the west while the sun was out to the east. The spot where I had camped a couple of days previously near the Mullardoch mountains seemed to be drawing all the rain and keeping it away from me at the top of one of the highest mountains in Britain.

From the top I made my way across easy, grassy slopes to the steep, craggy cliff edge at the top of Stob a’Choire Dhomhain where laid out before me was the excitingly narrow ridge of Stob Coire Dhomhnuill. The ridge, complete with rock towers, provided me with as much scrambling opportunities as I wanted, but I usually took the paths that bypass all the difficulties, which may sound cowardly, but I actually enjoy these high terrace paths, more than I enjoy terrifying myself on rock towers. At the end of the ridge I sat at the top and gazed around in awe of my surroundings. Dark clouds may have been lying to the north but to the south it was sunny and the views were stunning. It is always fabulous being at the top of a mountain when the weather is good and at that moment I didn’t want to leave; this is what I come to Scotland for. Reluctantly I passed over the top of Sron Garbh and climbed very steeply down to the col of Garbh Bhealach.

Ralph Storer here recommends following him, and most walkers, into the corrie and down to the valley. However, it was still quite early so I decided to carry on along the ridge though soon after that the weather started to close in and before I reached the top of the Munro, Tom a’Choinich, it started to rain. With hindsight Ralph Storer was probably right that the onward course would be an anti-climax, but there were some good points including a narrowing of the ridge after Tom a’Choinich Beag and a good footpath after the Munro down the steep ridge to the col. There I finally left the ridge and followed an excellent footpath that I frustratingly kept losing as I followed the Allt Toll Easa back down into the valley where my tent awaited me. Despite the rain that ended the day this was a fabulous walk over some great mountains with stunning views of the mountains of Kintail on excellent footpaths.