Cambrian Way rerun: Cardiff Bay to Crosskeys

Saturday 17th May 2025

Almost immediately after coming back from my ill-fated walk along the Cambrian Way last year I started to plan a return visit to the sections that I had failed to do previously because of bad weather, but then, a couple of months later, I had a crazy idea of doing the whole trail again. The Cambrian Way is about three hundred miles long starting in Cardiff, by the south coast of Wales, and following a course over the mountains all the way across the nation until eventually ending in Conwy on the north coast, three weeks later. Despite the many difficulties I had last year, the idea of doing it again and learning from my previous mistakes was exciting and proved irresistible. After months of meticulous planning over the winter and eager anticipation I eventually arrived at the railway station in Cardiff and immediately set off in the wrong direction. The Cambrian Way starts at the gates of Cardiff Castle, which is north of Cardiff Central station, and yet I headed south towards Cardiff Bay. Since I’ve already done a lot of the Cambrian Way before I felt I was under no obligation to stick rigidly to the trail this time, so while I would follow new sections of the trail for me, I had no qualms about cutting corners on sections that I had done before. Last year, I started my trail by walking around Cardiff Bay as I felt that was the more fitting place to start a coast to coast trail across Wales and this time was no different, so I headed south to Roald Dahl Plass outside the Millennium Centre where I had views across Cardiff Bay.

From the Water Tower I set off along the Taff Trail, soon joining the river and heading north. Since the Cambrian Way also follows the River Taff out of Cardiff, I thought this be a good route for me to take from the bay, along the west bank of the river passing the Millennium Stadium and bypassing Cardiff Castle, while the exciting thought filled my mind that my epic, three week journey had just begun. The weather was warm and sunny, but I knew that in Wales this was not going to last for three weeks, though I hoped that this time I would be prepared for anything. My path coincided with that of many cyclists and runners, and while the Cambrian Way passed through Bute Park I passed through the pleasant landscape of Sophia Gardens and into Pontcanna Fields. The river was lined with trees while cow parsley and buttercups lined my path, which I had not seen when I left Cardiff last year since it had been in August, so I was looking forward to the change in vegetation that I would see this time on the trail. At Black Weir I crossed the bridge and finally joined the Cambrian Way on the east bank of the Taff where wild garlic decorated the woodland floor. At Gabalfa the Cambrian Way crosses the river for a needless diversion to Llandaff Cathedral, so I stayed on the east bank following the Taff Trail and when the trail turned right along the edge of Hailey Park I stayed beside the river. This wasn’t deliberate, but preferable and soon I reached a railway bridge where I rejoined the Cambrian Way and where a short stretch of road walking led me to one of the highlights of the whole trail.

I had entered a disused length of the Glamorganshire Canal which is now a nature reserve and was a fabulous place to walk, totally overgrown and given over to nature. It was gorgeous with the shallow waters of the canal filled with water lilies, looking beautiful even though they were not in flower, while yellow iris filled the bank to my left. Eventually I came to the end of this surviving section of canal where I had my first climb of the trail up to the complex network of paths that took me through the junction of the M4 motorway with the A470 trunk road, that soon led me into the village of Tongwynlais where my first proper climb took me up the road to Castell Coch. I was not bothered about the red castle, but the steep climb that took me through woodland that soon had me sweating in the warm weather, so I was thankful when the gradient eventually eased. Last year, I turned left at this point to head back down into the Taff valley with my first day on the trail already finished, but this time I kept going along the popular, wide path. The yellow flowers of broom decorated the thick green vegetation that lined the path until at the Three Bears Caves, a disused mine, I stopped for lunch. My onward course took me past a golf course on my left while to my right the woodland floor was carpeted with wild garlic, though not at its best as it was going to seed. After passing a car park, I crossed a road and followed a narrower path that weaved around the contours before widening and becoming easier underfoot, so I strode on, enjoying the walk with the trees shining a bright green in the sunlight.

When I reached a junction I checked my location and realised that I had missed a turning, so I had to retrace my steps back through the brightly lit trees until I eventually returned to the point that I should not have missed. I had thought that having done a lot of the Cambrian Way before the navigation would be easy for me so I could relax and just enjoy the trail, but much as I would have loved to have disengaged my brain, this incident showed that I couldn’t afford to since I had not missed that turning last year. I should at least have been able to learn from my missed turnings last year, but at Thornhill I made the same mistake I’d made before. The undulating trail continued along a broad ridge with little or no view so I just ploughed on and appreciated having the shelter of the trees from the sun. My interest was only awakened by the frequent appearance of wild garlic and particularly in one place where it covered the woodland floor and had not gone to seed. When the views did finally appear, on the edge of an old quarry, they were rather hazy, so despite the clear blue skies, they were not as appealing as they had been last year at this point. My route took me over Cefn Onn and continued for many miles until I finally turned north again on a wide forestry track through Coed Cefn-pwll-du and descended into the Rhymney Valley to reach Machen where the first stage of the Cambrian Way ends. I had originally planned on stopping at this point, but since it was still early and I was feeling strong, I decided to keep going, climbing up the hill towards Mynydd Machen. 

This was a tiring climb in the hot weather with the young woodland not providing me with any shelter, though as I climbed the views opened out towards Newport, where I was staying for the weekend, and beyond to the Bristol Channel. Eventually I turned north again to climb an eroded path that brought me to the radio transmitter and trig point that sits at the summit of Mynydd Machen, but I was just glad that the climbing was now over and I had a long descent into the Ebbw valley. Previously I had made a number of mistakes on this descent, so I now made sure to take the correct route into woodland decorated with bluebells and down a complicated sequence of paths that had previously been overgrown but it was not too difficult now to find my way, especially with the benefit of hindsight. Soon, I reached the Ebbw River and the road between Crosskeys and Risca where I turned left to reach the railway station at Crosskeys. This was a great start to the Cambrian Way and after spending all year doing exercises to strengthen my legs I felt better prepared for this walk than many others that I have done. I was eager for what the next three weeks lay in store for me.

Port Erin to Peel

Friday 25th April 2025

I was not feeling great at the start of this day and the weather had deteriorated in sympathy with light rain falling as I made my way through the streets of Douglas on the Isle of Man and caught a bus to take me to Port Erin where I had been the day before walking along the coastal path, Raad ny Foillan. My plan was to continue along that path on the most strenuous section even though I wasn’t feeling great, so I first reversed my steps of the day before and soon I rejoined the coastal path on a road that descends to the deserted Fleshwick Bay where I found a path that climbs steeply up the hill while behind me were misty views back over Port Erin and towards the Calf of Man. The terrain was heather moorland, which will be spectacular in August when the heather is in bloom, but was not at its best in this murky weather in April. The rain had eased but the same cold, easterly wind that had plagued me all week continued to blow while the path was so narrow I felt like I was walking on a tightrope, constantly crossing my legs in front of each other with every step, which wasn’t helping my knee pain that had appeared the day before. Eventually I reached the top of Lhiattee ny Beinnee and descended the other side to reach a road where a car park provided me with a place to stop and have an early lunch.

My progress slowly continued in the misty weather conditions past Burro Meanagh and up to Cronk ny Arrey Laa, which is the highest point on the Raad ny Foillan coastal footpath and why this is considered to be the most strenuous section, though it was not particularly difficult for me, even in this weather. With these strong winds, the top of the hill felt a bit like a mountain, but it is nowhere near as high. A path heads west towards the coast from the large summit cairn and trig point that took me past a memorial, but soon came to nothing, forcing me to retrace my steps past the cairn and onto a path that initially led me down north east before bending right to slowly descend all the way down to the coast. Eventually I crossed a stream where wild flowers reminded me that throughout my crossing of these two hills I had seen little variety in the moorland vegetation, so they were a welcome change. The terrain was now more interesting as the weather improved with the hazy views on the hilltops now replaced with stunning views along the coast under brightening skies. With Niarbyl Bay ahead of me I slowly began to enjoy this walk as I made my way across the slopes and down to Creggan Mooar where the sun briefly came out.

All too soon I reached a road where I turned inland and away from the beautiful coastline while the sun also disappeared, never to be seen again by me on the Isle of Man. The road brought me into the village of Dalby on the A27 road where my route continued beside the main road north until I reached Ballachrink where the trail descends to the coast, bypassing Glen Maye, but I hated to miss out on this valley so I stayed on the road until I reached the village where I could turn down into the valley. This was a delightful place overflowing with wild garlic, but I soon realised I was heading upstream rather than down so I retraced my steps and after some confusion I eventually found the right path that led me down into the stunning ravine where a small waterfall rewarded me for my efforts. Excellent paths provided me with amazing access through this beautiful narrow valley until I reached a sign that indicated the Raad ny Foillan coastal path does actually go through this valley. I eventually realised that the trail ascends through Glen Maye and then returns to the coast high above the northern side of the glen. Even though the lower part of the glen was less appealing for me, because of a lack of trees, it was still a fabulous place to walk through and soon led me to the coast where I had to climb ridiculously steeply up the cliff face until I reached the path on the northern side of the glen and back on the route of the Raad ny Foillan. Lesson learnt and if I ever do this path again I will know which way to go.

Beyond there I followed the path which hugged the coastline above precipitous cliffs and was a pleasure to walk along, so it was a pity the weather had deteriorated. With spectacular views before me towards Corrin’s Tower and behind me along the craggy coast, the sensational path led me around the many secluded bays and inlets before finally taking me around Peel Hill and down into the town which had lain hidden behind the hill. My first view of Peel was not pleasant being of the industrial west end dominated by the power station, but soon the rest of the town emerged and I descended through woodland to the river and into Peel where I caught a bus back to Douglas. This was another odd walk with the first half over the hills being rather dull in the misty weather, but it improved with the weather as I came back down to the coast, including that amazing moment when the sun came out. The following day the weather was even worse and since I needed to catch the ferry in the afternoon I decided to travel on the steam train again and not do any walking. In Port Erin I had a look around the railway museum and then caught the train back to Douglas before catching the ferry home. This was an amazing week with the highlight being the abundance of wild flowers that I saw everywhere, particularly wild garlic and bluebells thanks to the warm spring that had brought them to flower several weeks early so I could enjoy them during a late Easter. This was a fabulous week and with so many things to see and do on the Isle of Man I need to come back again so I can take in the many places I didn’t have time for.

Port St Mary to Port Erin

Thursday 24th April 2025

With a sense of déjà vu, I made my way back through the streets of Douglas on the Isle of Man, to the railway station where the day before I had been told that no trains were running. Fortunately, they were on this day and I got onto the packed train, getting off at Port St Mary and immediately I noticed that it was very cold due to a strong wind that would come to dominate this walk. By this time most of the morning had already gone as the train had not left Douglas until halfway through the morning, but I didn’t let that worry me and joining the Raad ny Foillan, I made my way through the town along the coastal path, though I had some difficulty following the poorly signposted trail through the built-up area. Views across Port St Mary Bay teased me about the section of coastal footpath that I had skipped since previously following the trail to Castletown, but there was nothing really spectacular about it since the underlying rock in that part of the Isle of Man is limestone. I’m sure it would have been an interesting walk upon closer inspection, but with a limited time on the island I needed to prioritise where I was walking. For this day I was heading to the south west corner of the Isle of Man where the dramatic coastline that I had seen earlier in the week continued, starting with an exploration of the scenery around Kallow Head and Perwick Bay before a stretch of inland road walking led me back to the coast. 

I had now reached the Chasms, which is an area where landslides have exposed some very deep fissures in the rock that were fascinating to explore and peer into the dark crevices while being careful to not get too close to the edge. Eventually I emerged safely from the Chasms and returned to the coastal footpath which led me a bit further inland, around Bay Stacka, where I stopped for something to eat. Afterwards, I made my way around Black Head and Spanish Head where, on turning north, I was hit by the full force of the cold winds as I headed uphill passing a cairn before finally beginning to descend steeply, sheltered from the winds and with the island, Calf of Man, now in view across the Calf Sound. After my lonely walk from Port St Mary, I felt rudely interrupted by the sudden intrusion of a large number of people wandering around the car park and outside the visitor centre at the far south western corner of the Isle of Man, so I dashed past as quickly as possible to get away from them and continued along the coastal path. I planned to catch the train back to Douglas that left Port Erin at four o’clock, so I was keeping an eye on my projected arrival time, but the rough terrain so far had put that back and soon I would be projected to miss my train so I quickened my pace despite the dramatic scenery around me, which clearly warranted my lingering and spending more time to take in the gloriously rocky terrain. 

Eventually I decided I was wasting my efforts and reined in my mad dash to take a more leisurely pace and enjoy the walk, despite the strong head wind. However, since I was now walking on grass, without even trying I was able to maintain a brisk pace that soon saw me gain on my projected arrival time. The path led me along the dramatic coastline with tantalising views ahead of Milner’s Tower, which sits on Bradda Head across Port Erin Bay and eventually I began to descend finally reaching the road that encircles the bay and the sandy beach at Port Erin. A complex network of paths crisscross the northern slopes of the bay, but many of them were closed, which I found disappointing as it reveals that they were not being properly maintained and I was unable to determine which paths carried the coastal footpath. Some of the paths were lined with abundant displays of wildflowers that had me mesmerised even though those paths were dead ends, which was also frustrating as I was short of time. Eventually I began to ascend steeply towards Bradda Head and the tower which had been in my sight for the last hour. Since I was still trying to catch that train at four o’clock, I didn’t divert to the foot of Milner’s Tower but kept to the path that follows the coast slowly climbing to the top of Bradda Hill.

The strong wind continued to push me back as I slowly pushed on up the hill along the path that clings to the edge of steep cliffs that fall precipitously down to the sea far below. I was thankful when I finally reached the top of the hill, but I didn’t stop and quickly made my way down the increasingly steep path on the other side, which was a challenge for my aging knees. For some reason, on this walk my knees had begun to hurt, despite not doing so earlier in the week while on the Isle of Man. I was relieved when the gradient eased and I was able to follow an easy path that heads south back to Port Erin where I reached the station in plenty of time to catch the train. This was a funny walk that was restricted by the railway timetable and challenged by painful knees, a varied path and concerns about getting back to Port Erin in time to catch the train. Perhaps I would have appreciated it more if I had caught an earlier bus to provide me with enough time to take a leisurely walk and enjoy the stunning surroundings that I was often in too much of a hurry to appreciate.

Dhoon Glen and Ballaglass Glen

Wednesday 23rd April 2025

At the start of another day of good weather on the Isle of Man I made my way through the streets of Douglas to the railway station where I hoped to catch the steam train south, however when I got there I was informed that the trains were not running that day. It was clearly displayed on the timetable but I hadn’t noticed, so I changed my plans and caught a bus heading north getting off at Dhoon Glen. I had decided that my primary goal while on the Isle of Man was to visit the wooded valleys that the island has in abundance and so if I couldn’t visit the ones to the south then I would look north and soon I was walking through gorgeous woodland underneath a vibrant fresh growth of leaves, but then I was stopped by a closed footpath. I had come across this problem on my walk the day before in Molly Quirk’s Glen and so, not wanting to cross the barrier, I turned right climbing up onto a path that skirts around the edge of the glen, slowly heading towards the coast with views across the trees to my left before finally I descended steeply to the coast at Dhoon Bay where I now had views of the craggy hillsides that fall precipitously down to the sea either side of the beach. I fully expected to have to come back the way I’d come, but the path that follows the stream back up the glen seemed to be open, no barrier was blocking my way, so I headed back along the bottom of the valley.

 

 

A dramatic path took me up the glen, crossing the stream many times, while wood anemones and celandines decorated the floor and I had to duck underneath the occasional fallen tree. Eventually I reached a tall waterfall that was sadly greatly depleted in water due to the lack of rain this spring, though the moss lining the back of the falls was appealing. A large tree lay fallen at the base of the waterfall and storm damage could be seen in many places, though nothing so far to warrant the path closure. From the base of the falls I made my way along a path that climbs steeply up the hillside and soon I came across a tree stump that had fallen across the path, completing blocking it and was definitely the main reason why the path that had been closed. Carefully, I made my way precipitously around the blockage and continued along the path passing the stone housing for a giant waterwheel and another fallen tree stump, though nowhere near as difficult to go around and finally returned to the barrier that had blocked my way earlier, but now I was on the other side. I don’t know when this storm damage was done but it was frustrating that nothing had seemingly been done to clear it. 

 

 

On emerging from the glen I joined the route of the Raad ny Foillan coastal footpath on a minor road and soon came across a closed road due to tree work, so I turned around and headed to the Glen Mona Hotel where a footpath took me down to the road on the other side of the closure and through Glen Mona. The road was too heavily enclosed with trees to provide me with a view of the valley so I just continued along the peaceful lane until I reached the car park at the end, at Port Cornaa, where I found a beautiful, tranquil spot, free of worries or people that provided me with a place to unwind, basking in the sunshine while having my lunch. I was reluctant to leave this beautiful valley where many wild flowers decorated the floor, but eventually I followed a track that gradually climbed the side of the valley until I reached the village of Cornaa where I left the coastal path and entered Ballaglass Glen, which was an utter delight. Rocks dominated the valley while excellent footpaths lined both sides of the stream providing ease of access to enjoy the whole place and leaving me in a daze as to which path to take and whether to run around on all of them like a little child. I was enthralled by the sight of it all, loving every moment, but all too soon I reached the top where a halt on the tramway is situated with a tram scheduled to soon arrive.

 

 

I had nothing else planned for this day so I made a quick decision to get off the tram at South Cape, near Laxey, and follow the coastal footpath south, which soon brought me onto Laxey Beach. It was lovely to walk across the sand, but all too soon I had to climb back off and, although there is a path, it is difficult to find and I couldn’t find it until after I had climbed up the rocks. This brought me onto the busy main road where a hair-raising walk eventually brought me to the outskirts of Bladrine and a path that led me down to Garwick Bay. The subsequent walk back up Garwick Glen was too short to compensate and from then the Raad ny Foillan took a tedious course inland until it eventually reached Groudle Glen, which I had visited the day before, and where I caught a final tram to take me back to Douglas and the waiting horse-driven tramway that I couldn’t resist riding. This was a great day that showed the Isle of Man, in my opinion, at its best from gorgeous wooded glens to tranquil, secluded bays. Sadly, it also showed some of the problems I had been encountering on the Isle of Man with closed paths and a coastal footpath that fails to keep to the coast. The highlight was the many wild flowers that I kept finding with so many bluebells that I was becoming blasé to them all and hardly noticing when even more cropped up. It was a shame I only had a week on the Isle of Man to enjoy it all.

Groudle Glen and Maughold Brooghs

Tuesday 22nd April 2025

After my walk on the day before this along the coastal path of the Isle of Man, I decided that my focus should be in the wooded valleys, which were at their best at this time of the year, rather than following the coastal path, which often veers away from the coast and onto dull country lanes. My first target was Molly Quirk’s Glen, which is within walking distance of the capital city, Douglas, where I was staying, so I headed through the large village of Onchan and down a path that was so steep I thought might be slippery, and then promptly slipped over, injuring both my hands. This left me rather dazed so I carefully made my way down the rest of the steps to the start of Molly Quirk’s Glen, where I found, to add insult to literally injury, the path was closed, and I could clearly see that this was due to fallen trees. So, after tending to my injuries, I made my way back up the road, avoiding the path I’d slipped on, and through the streets to White Bridge where I was able to access Molly Quirk’s Glen, and I was so glad as this was a magical place filled with wild flowers, including bluebells, wood anemones, celandines and wild garlic. It was fabulous. Although fallen trees blocked my way in places I was able to weave an enthralling route through the glen and back to White Bridge where I sadly failed to enjoy the nearby Bibaloe Walk and instead I had a difficult time trying to cross the busy road. I was then frustrated to discover that if I had been on the other side of the stream I would have been able to cross safely underneath Whitebridge Road thanks to an underpass.

With thoughts of how this day was not going well for me, I proceeded into Groudle Glen, which paled in comparison to Molly Quirk’s Glen, solely due to a lack of wild flowers, but this slowly improved as wood anemones began to appear and the valley walls narrowed forcing the path to take to wooden boardwalks. While the path clung to the side of the stream, I made my way through the narrow glen until finally I passed under a viaduct and into an enchanting valley. The enthralling walk eventually brought me to Port Groudle where I crossed the glen and climbed back up to the road just before my tram passed. Wishing I had kept a closer eye on the time, I disconsolately walked beside the road wondering what else could go wrong. Despite passing the station and over the viaduct I kept going until I came across a path on my right which turned into woodland and circled around the short side valley formed by the Lhen Coan River and eventually brought me back to the Groudle River and the glen. Slowly, I made my way back up to the railway station where I waited half an hour for the next tram, and I appreciated the rest because I was feeling very tired, possibly as a result of my accident on the approach to Molly Quirk’s Glen. When I got off the tram in Ramsey, however, I didn’t rest any longer, or linger, and immediately headed off through the streets following a walk I had found called Ramsey Glens.

This took me over the course of the TT race and along residential streets towards a steep bank of woodland called Claughbane Plantation and eventually entered a wood that was liberally decorated with wild flowers particularly what appeared to be white bluebells, though they were probably a garden escape of a white lily like three-cornered garlic. They were a pleasing sight, but all too soon I entered the plantation ahead of me which was mainly coniferous and so contained hardly any wild flowers. Despite missing a turning that forced me to turn back, I slowly climbed the steep bank through the conifer plantation until I reached the top and then followed the edge until finally I turned into Elfin Glen. My path climbed high above the western bank with only occasional glimpses into the deep, overgrown glen far below me, which was awe-inspiring but it was frustrating that there was no room for a path. The path continued to climb until eventually I crossed the dense valley and headed back down the eastern bank. A maze of paths took me around the side of the hill, eventually crossing the course of the TT race and bringing me into Ballure Glen. The Ramsey Glens walk now decided to head down to the coast, but I turned left to climb into the valley, but there was little to see and eventually brought me to a reservoir.

A rocky byway led me steeply back down the hill and onto the main road where I had a choice of whether to turn left and head back into Ramsey, or to turn right and follow the coastal path, Raad na Foillan. I decided to turn right, though this initially involved some road walking until, at Port Lewaigue, I turned left around the headland of Gob ny rona, which afforded me with views north along the largely flat coast north of Ramsey and out to sea. A great path led me over many small bridges around the headland before depositing me on the shingly beach at Port-e-Vullen. After a short walk along a road I was able to follow a fabulous path around the coast high above the steep, craggy cliffs of Maughold Brooghs, which, despite a strong wind, was an invigorating walk and led me over the hill and towards Maughold Head, even though it frustrating bypasses it. While feeling annoyed to be crossing tedious farmland I emerged back onto the coast with stunning views back to Maughold Head and the lighthouse that sits at the end. An exciting, though woefully short, walk along the craggy coast brought me into Port Mooar, a short distance away from the tram station at Ballajora. This was a funny day when it felt like things were not going right for me, but the weather was fantastic all day and I felt my decision to pick and choose my route was the right thing to do rather than blindly following the coastal path, though the section over Maughold Brooghs was great. 

Douglas to Castletown

Monday 21st April 2025

After climbing to the top of Snaefell, the highest point on the Isle of Man, the day before this walk, I wanted to start following the coastal footpath, Raad ny Foillan, with my first instinct being to head north from the capital city, Douglas. However, the ‘traditional’ way goes in the other direction, so since I was keen to do the section between Ramsey and Douglas I thought I’d start from Ramsey instead and head towards Douglas, but when I walked out of my accommodation it was raining so I decided to start with the official first stage heading south from Douglas, which I thought was described as leisurely, so best for the inclement weather, though it is actually moderate. It starts at the Millennium Lifting Bridge over the River Douglas and soon had me climbing the hill above Douglas Head, past a big hotel and, through a grand entrance, onto Marine Drive. This was a quiet walk despite being on a tarmacked road, the reason for which I would soon discover, as the rain slowly began to ease and I made my way along the road with views along the spectacular, craggy coastline while the yellow flowers of gorse decorated the side of the road. Eventually the rain stopped and I was able to shed my waterproofs and soon after I passed a locked gate, preventing cars from proceeding, though not those on foot, and soon I saw that the road had been partly eroded by the sea, necessitating the closure and why I hadn’t seen any cars.

The dramatic coastline continued past Little Ness and below towering cliffs, which I enjoyed in quiet solitude. Port Soderick had now come into view and eventually I came off the road onto a narrow footpath that descends to the beach where I turned right, away from the coast and through Port Soderick Glen, which was a fabulous walk through a wooded valley that was filled with wild flowers, especially the delicate white flowers of wild garlic while the delicious smell of garlic filled the air. All too soon I emerged from the glen and onto a road that took me up to a prolonged spell of walking beside a main road before I mercifully turned left to head back towards the coast, passing some foul-smelling farms until I finally returned to the coast where a fabulous section of coastal walking followed that must rank amongst the best in the British Isles. It kept to the edge of the high cliffs, often with farmland on the other side of a fence, but along a narrow strip of the rugged, wild margin between sea and land. The path meandered around with the landscape, up and down, left and right with gorse as the dominant plant while the weather slowly improved with blue skies and the sun now coming out. It was very windy on Santon Head but the sheltered inlet of Santon Gorge was spectacular so there I stopped for my lunch while admiring the views out to sea with the sun dancing on the waves.

The delights continued across Port Grenaugh and on along the coast to Port Soldrick until I finally turned inland into a shallow, wooded inlet along a path that was heavily decorated with wild flowers, though it was very muddy and route-finding on the other side was challenging. When I found myself on the edge of a landfill site I turned back and still couldn’t find the path, so I just followed the coast until eventually, on the edge of the airport, I found the path that goes around the runway and eventually brought me into Derbyhaven where the first stage of the Raad ny Foillan ends. With plenty of time left I was inclined to keep going but, while my old Harvey Map shows the trail heading straight towards Castletown, the route now goes around the Langness peninsula. I wanted to catch a train back to Douglas and I soon realised that I would not be able to walk all the way around the promontory and catch it so I turned back towards the road and followed that into Castletown. The second stage of the Raad ny Foillan is described as leisurely as the terrain is low lying and so I didn’t think it would appeal to me as much as the rugged coastline of the first stage. Although it was rather early for my train I wandered into Castletown and waited at the station for the train that eventually brought me back to Douglas.

This first stage of the coastal footpath taught me that it is a varied trail with some excellent walking but also some annoying inland diversions along roads so I decided that, instead of being obsessed with completing the whole trail, I would just try and pick some of the good bits and focus on the highlights of the Isle of Man. Although I was there all week, I soon realised that it would not be enough time for me to see everything, so I needed to prioritise and I didn’t think the coastal footpath was the best walking that the Isle of Man had to offer. Port Soderick Glen had shown me my fortune in seeing these wooded glens at their very best and, for me, that was the priority as the colourful display of wild flowers was sensational and even guaranteed whereas the coastal footpath sometimes disappointed, though on this stage it was second to none.

Snaefell

Sunday 20th April 2025

For my Easter holiday this year I decided to come to an island that I have long harboured a desire to visit: the Isle of Man. I have planned to go there on several occasions over the years, most recently in 2019, but now I had finally got myself organised. I caught a train to Liverpool and then a ferry across the Irish Sea to the Isle of Man, though the weather when I arrived was not great and it was already two o’clock in the afternoon, so there was not enough time for me to do any walking and instead I just wandered around the capital city, Douglas, and followed part of the local heritage and nature walk called the Douglas Trail. The highlight was visiting Summerhill Glen, which was filled with tiny, magical fairies, or at least the doors to their houses, and reminded me that the Isle of Man has many narrow, wooded glens which are just the sorts of places that I wanted to visit while I was there. But my first goal was Snaefell, the highest point on the island and the only point that is more than two thousand feet above sea level, and so the only mountain. Thankfully the next day was sunny so I set off on one of the astonishing Victorian railways on the island, the Manx Electric Railway, a tramway that hasn’t changed in over a hundred years, even down to still using the same trams. This took me to Laxey where one of the paths up Snaefell starts, however, there is also an ancient mountain railway that takes tourists up to the summit and I couldn’t resist hopping on hoard for a ride. 

This took me all the way up to the bitterly cold, windswept summit of Snaefell where cloud was obscuring the view so I immediately got back on the tram and came straight back down again. Now I finally decided to stop being a tourist and do some walking, so I headed out of the village along a road that steadily climbs Laxey Glen, passing the iconic Laxey Wheel, the largest working waterwheel in the world, and on through the hamlet of Agneash into the quiet valley on a rough track. With the sun shining, a pleasant walk took me slowly up the valley while the trams continued to trundle up the other side until I reached some mine ruins where I left the track to follow a faint, often boggy path across the side of the hill. Although this was quite tiring, the sun was out and I relished the feeling of climbing a proper mountain path towards my first mountain of the year, unfortunately civilisation soon rudely interrupted me with the mountain road that is part of the famous TT motorcycle race. On the other side the mountain path climbed straight towards the summit of Snaefell, though on the steepest section I thought I could see faint, well-graded zigzags in the grass, while the beaten track ascends steeply up. I tried to keep to these easier routes, but they were hard to follow and eventually I just ploughed on up to the summit station and café.

It was still very cold and windy at the top but the mist had cleared so I had extensive views around the northern half of the island, though the crowds prompted me to not linger and I soon made my way north past one of the two masts that blight the summit and, after crossing the railway tracks, descended a faint path with views ahead of me towards a range of hills that terminate on North Barrule, the second highest hill on the Isle of Man. If I was so inclined I could have set myself the goal of visiting the summits of all the hills on the island more than one thousand feet high and I would have started by taking my descent along the ridge between Clagh Ouyr and North Barrule before descending into Ramsey. Instead I was following a route on visitisleofman.com (and the OS Maps app) called Route 1 - East Summits, which turns away from these hills to head east towards the coast. Steady progress on variable paths took me into the strong easterly winds around the side of the Verandah and, ignoring the proscribed route, I kept to the path that crosses the southern slopes of Slieau Lhean. Once sheltered from the cold winds, and with great views out to sea, I had an enjoyable walk slowly making my way down the track and finally returning to the village of Laxey where I took advantage of time to descend to the coast at Old Laxey where I turned right to follow the Laxey River back up to the railway station. This was a fabulous walk, despite cold winds at the top, as it felt wonderful to be climbing a mountain again and under no compulsion to push myself, it was gloriously relaxing.

The Malvern Hills

Saturday 8th March 2025

I have desired to walk over the Malvern Hills for a long time, and I didn’t realise how long that had been until just before this walk when I was looking through some old files and I found some pages I had downloaded from the walkingbritain.co.uk website of various walks over the Malvern Hills in 2001. A forecast of sunshine and unseasonably warm weather in March prompted me to take the opportunity and catch a train to Malvern getting off at the Malvern Link station where I walked along the road towards the impressive line of hills ahead of me. My starting point was at a car park on the North Malvern Road, which rises over the northern shoulder of the hills, and where I started to follow a walk from the BBC Countryfile Magazine called Malvern Hills ridge walk. A clear stony path led me up the hill, zigzagging several times and soon provided me with extensive views across the Worcestershire plain, though the distant views were very hazy. A maze of paths provided me with many options for ascending the hill and I soon lost the prescribed route, but I wasn’t too bothered by this as I made my way around the northern slopes while admiring the awesome views.

After gazing at the views over End Hill I finally turned my attention to North Hill which I had been circumnavigating to slowly climb onto the windswept summit where the hazy views were on display in all directions including south along the ridge towards Worcestershire Beacon, the highest point in the Malvern Hills. I enjoyed this climb and relished the opportunity to stretch my legs over the many tops along the ridge so I was disappointed to discover that the prescribed route avoids all of the tops between North Hill and Worcestershire Beacon and decided that I would ignore the route and bag each and every peak I found, keeping to the top of the ridge the whole way. My first target was Table Hill which lies to the west of North Hill and after that I proceeded along the ridgeline of Sugarloaf Hill before finally climbing steeply up to the crowded top of Worcestershire Beacon.

I didn’t linger, but maintained a brisk pace along the top of the ridge with awesome views ahead of me along the range of hills until eventually I reached Wyche Gap, a pass through the Malvern Hills, where I stopped for my lunch while gazing west into Herefordshire. My onward route carried me up over Perseverance Hill and Jubilee Hill before I finally reached Pinnacle Hill where the Countryfile Magazine ridge walk turns back, but I was having too much fun to stop now so I kept going over Black Hill, gradually descending to eventually reach Wynds Point where another road crosses the mostly impenetrable line of hills. Before me now was the steep slope of Herefordshire Beacon, also known as British Camp after the vast Iron Age hill fort at the top and an exhilarating climb took me all the way up to the windswept summit, but I didn’t stop there as I continued south over Millennium Hill before finally dropping off the eastern slopes. The Malvern Hills technically don’t end at this point but on Chase End Hill several miles away, but the continuing hills are less than a thousand feet high and I needed to get back so I turned left onto a bridleway that crosses the eastern slopes and soon brought me back to Wynds Point where I wearily climbed the ridge again.

I had hoped to avoid any more climbing, but that was frustratingly not possible, though I did take advantage of several paths that bypassed some of the peaks until after bypassing Black Hill I crossed the ridge and joined a bridleway that traverses the eastern slopes of the hill before turning north to head back to the start along the originally proscribed route. This took me into woodland for an extended walk that often seemed to be climbing back up the side of the hill when all I wanted was a flat traverse, but instead the path kept undulating up and down, through the woodland below Perseverance Hill. At Wyche Gap a stretch of road walking followed before the path continued through woodland weaving exhaustingly up and down the slopes of Worcestershire Beacon, past St Ann’s Well and around the slopes of North Hill. Eventually I came off the return route of the Countryfile Magazine’s ridge walk to descend onto a road that took me back to the railway station through Link Common where a seasonally early appearance of celandines provided me with a pleasant end to the walk. This was a strenuous walk, which was precisely what I wanted to enjoy the sunshine and remove my winter laziness in preparation for the coming year. It is tragic that it has taken me so long to come to the Malvern Hills as it is a fabulous place to walk. I loved every moment and with what seems like a maze of paths at the northern end of the range I hope it won’t be too long before I return and further explore this awesome place.

Hopton Hall snowdrops

Saturday 22nd February 2025

In the depths of winter, when it is cold and grey and the landscape looks bleak spring seems far away, but then up comes the white flowers of snowdrops to provide some hope and the promise that spring will come soon. Therefore, I have snowdrops in my garden and I like to visit places where there is an abundant display with the most common place for me to go being Dimminsdale Nature Reserve on the Leicestershire and Derbyshire border. After weeks of cold, overcast weather it was a joy to find a Saturday with warm temperatures and sunshine so I wasted no time in nipping up to Staunton Harold Reservoir and walking around the adjacent nature reserve. Although the sun was not yet out the snowdrops were looking superb, at their peak though already showing signs of starting to go to seed. However, I did not spend long there before I had returned to my car and was heading north, passing Derby to reach Hopton Hall where I had previously seen their snowdrops five years ago which had lingered long in my memory because it was my last proper walk before Covid. I have been keen to return ever since and now I finally took that opportunity to once again experience the deservedly popular Hopton Hall Snowdrop Walk. Since the sun was now out the displays were fabulous with extensive coverings of the delicate white flowers throughout the woodland walk and the delights continued past beds of crocuses beside the drive and was followed by a relaxing walk around the Rose Gardens and a lake.

Five years ago, after doing the snowdrop walk, I had walked around the nearby reservoir of Carsington Water, but this time, rather than doing the same thing again, I took my inspiration from a walk on the O.S. Maps app called Hopton Hall snowdrops, which heads in the other direction. I came out through the gates of Hopton Hall and followed the road into the village of Carsington. A track beyond the village gradually climbed around the southern slopes of Carsington Pasture and provided me with views into the low sun across the reservoir while I passed outcrops that decorated the hillside before finally descending into the village of Brassington. The weather was now feeling unseasonably warm, so I was soon stripping off layers as I climbed back out of the village, enjoying the sunshine, although a cold wind encouraged me to keep my cagoule on. I found this upward ascent very satisfying, especially as the rest of my walking this year, since coming back from the Lake District, has been on pretty flat terrain. I was invigorated by the exertion and the sunshine as I strode on up the road, across a field and along Manystones Lane past an industrial site and up to the High Peak Trail. Ahead of me was Harboro’ Rocks and despite my route keeping to the High Peak Trail I couldn’t resist climbing steeply through the crags to reach the trig point that sits at the windswept top.

Clouds now covered the sky and with many people around I felt a little disappointed after all my effort. Soon, I made my way back down the hill and onto the High Peak Trail, which follows the course of the old Cromford and High Peak Railway. I followed this for several miles while overhead the dark skies tried to rain, though ultimately they hardly dropped anything. Before reaching Middleton Top I came off the trail and tried to follow a right-of-way heading south, but the route marked on my Ordnance Survey Map was not possible on the ground. Occasionally I came across gates or stiles, but since these were not on the route of the right-of-way it was quite a challenge for me to find my way, though the path did become clearer as I descended and eventually brought me to the road just outside the village of Hopton. Snowdrops decorated the roadside as I made my way through the village and back to Hopton Hall. This was a good little walk and I enjoyed the climb to the top of Harboro’ Rocks even though this is a relatively small hill and the conditions at the top were not so appealing. I enjoyed returning to see the snowdrops at Hopton Hall for the first time in five years and it was great to have a bit of warmth for the first time this year. It is so much more enjoyable to have sunshine and blue skies overhead than to walk under cold, overcast skies. I was looking forward to better weather this year.

Richmond Park and Windsor Great Park

Saturday 1st and 15th February 2025

In February 2024 I spent a day walking around the Royal Parks in central London and so when I discovered there were cheap train tickets available to London I decided I would return and look at some of the other Royal Parks, those further away from the centre of London that I had never been to before. My target at the beginning of February was Richmond Park so after a trip on the London Underground I arrived in the town of Richmond and immediately set off through the streets of the affluent district until I reached Cambrian Gate, which brought me into the park. Unfortunately the weather was not great for this walk with thick clouds and it was very cold so I was soon wrapping myself up in everything I could find in my rucksack as I slowly made my way along the busy path filled with runners, cyclists and other walkers. It was a bit of a challenge for me to weave through the crowds and with poor views across the vast, featureless grasslands I was not inspired by my first visit to Richmond Park. My route followed the Tamsin Trail around the edge of the park, but after passing Sheen Gate I came away from the crowds, to pass to the right of Adam’s Pond, but this just took me onto muddy grass so I soon returned to the surfaced path and followed it around the eastern edge of the park eventually leaving through Robin Hood Gate.

After crossing a busy road I entered Wimbledon Common, which is not a Royal Park, but reminds me of the children’s characters, the wombles, which live on Wimbledon Common and make use of the rubbish that others have left behind: an excellent way to live your life. I didn’t see any wombles, but the walking was much more interesting as it took me through woodland that was more varied than the parkland I had seen in Richmond, though the path was very muddy. After a while I checked when I needed to be back in Richmond to catch the train and I realised that it was a lot earlier than I had planned so I needed to cut short my intended route, which would have taken me through Putney Heath, and instead took a course through the common, avoiding golfists, that soon, despite missing a turning, brought me back on track. Eventually I was back at the point where I had entered the common and now re-entered Richmond Park to continue along the Tamsin Trail through more appealing scenery than I had seen earlier with more woodland as I slowly made my way around the park, eventually climbing a hill to reach Pembroke Lodge whose gardens were beautifully decorated with snowdrops and where I had murky views to the west.

The snowdrops and extensive views continued past King Henry VIII’s Mound and made up for my disappointments with the rest of the walk. Soon, I left the park through Richmond Gate, but the delights continued with the view west from Richmond Hill over a wide turn in the River Thames before I finally returned to the train station in Richmond. Two weeks later I was back in London and further out to Windsor where the impressive walls of the castle loomed over me as I headed south and soon joined the Long Walk, which stretches from the castle and into Windsor Great Park. The weather was no better now than it had been in Richmond Park, even a little worse with drizzle in the morning, so the views were worthless while planes coming into land at Heathrow airport passed overhead. Despite the poor weather and scenery I was enjoying the chance to get out and not be stuck indoors all day. My route, from the O.S. Maps app, took me off the avenue and across grassy fields eventually leading me onto better paths and finally onto roads through the park, until eventually I branched off along a muddy, grassy lane, actually Queen Anne’s Ride, that led me to a statue of the late Queen on horseback erected to celebrate her Golden Jubilee.

My proscribed route would have had me continuing beyond the statue, but I decided that I wanted to avoid the mud and keep to the tarmacked roads, however, if I had tried to continue I would have found my way barred as it is a private area, which I also found later when I tried to follow the route past Round Oak. Instead, I stayed on Duke’s Lane until I reached a track that is open to the public and took me through delightful woodland that brought me to Blacknest Gate where I turned back into the park and crossed Five-Arch Bridge across Virginia Water before branching into the Valley Gardens. These were pleasing for me to walk through even though there were no flowers, despite thick compost lying on the ground, and on the far side I passed the Canadian Totem Pole and turned north to pass the Savill Garden, the Cow Pond and Cumberland Lodge. Once again the private areas blocked my route and this time I was confused as Ordnance Survey Maps show the route of the Three Castles Path also going through the private area. I should have gone around, but instead I kept to my prescribed route even though this necessitated climbing over a tall gate at the end, which brought me to the foot of Snow Hill with the statue at the top to King George III that is called the Copper Horse. From this point the entire length of the Long Walk lay before me disappearing into the mist with Windsor Castle at the far end and so now all I needed to do was follow this all the long way back into Windsor. These were both enjoyable walks, despite the poor weather, and provided me with the chance to start my training for my ambitious plans this year.

Spring Walks

Last spring I did some walks in the Peak District with someone I used to work with and a couple of weeks after a walk around the Derwent Valley near Matlock we were back to do a walk I have done many times before ever since my first ever walking holiday in 1998 and most recently in 2020, straight after lockdown. I have many fond memories of walking through Lathkill Dale so I was eager to show its delights to my friend with the first treat being on the descent into Cales Dale, a short branch off Lathkill Dale, where early purple orchids decorated the steep path.

Once we were in Lathkill Dale the scenery through a narrow gorge was spectacular, though grey skies marred the scene, but the delights continued past the point where water was seemingly coming out of solid rock. Later, when woodland covered the valley floor, an abundance of wild flowers delighted me, including dog’s mercury, red campion and forget-me-not, but it was the bluebells that were most appealing to me.

I always walk around the Charnwood Forest at the beginning of May to see bluebells and last spring was no exception, but hot weather had forced the bluebells to go to seed by the time I was able to do the walk. The best display I saw was near the exit to the Outwoods, which are famous for their bluebells, but it was wild garlic that covered the woodland floor and was the highlight of the walk.

A week later I was walking on my own again and I decided that I would return to somewhere that I had previously visited in 2019 when exploring a part of Birmingham that had been the childhood home of J.R.R. Tolkien, the author of “The Lord of the Rings”. I caught a train to Hall Green station and from there I headed to Sarehole Mill, which I have fond memories of exploring five years previously, so I was disappointed to discover that the museum was closed. Instead I set off along the route of a walk on the O.S. Maps app from Country Walking Magazine that follows the River Cole along a cow parsley lined path that was plagued with litter. At a ford I turned left to pass Tolkien’s childhood home and enter Moseley Bog, which was a fabulous place and I wandered carefree through the nature reserve including Joy’s Wood with no thought of where I was going. Although a small place, because I was completely lost and wandering aimlessly around, it seemed vast and intricate with varying landscapes from the wetland around the bog through the dappled shade of woodland to banks of wild garlic.

It was only when I referred to a map that the nature reserve suddenly felt much smaller and less fantastical. It is no wonder this place inspired Tolkien to create the woodlands found in “The Lord of the Rings”. The rest of the walk couldn’t hope to enthral me as much as Moseley Bog had as I crossed Swanshurst Park, around Moseley New Pool and onto Billesley Common. In Chinn Brook Nature Reserve I veered off the prescribed route to have a wander around and discovered banks of cow parsley and wild garlic, which I loved walking through and breathing in the rich smell.

At the far end of Chinn Brook Meadows I wandered around the Mill Pool of Trittiford Park where I had stunning views across the water in the sunshine before a slow walk through the Dingles beside the River Cole brought me back to Sarehole Mill. This was a great, though short walk, in warm weather through the Shire Country Park which was very relaxing for me, especially while walking past rich growths of wild flowers. I love walking in the spring, but it is always frustrating to find I am either too early or too late to see the displays at their best. Often they are already going to seed but if I am lucky I can find some late bloomers that provide me with a taste of what I could have seen if I had been there just a couple of days earlier.

By June woodlands are too dark for wild flowers to thrive and they have begun to set seed while meadows now take centre stage. Though not as dramatic as their woodland counterparts, there are still examples of meadow flowers that enthral me, most notably spotted-orchids. My friend and I took a walk through Monsal Dale and Chee Dale last June and I found a fabulous display of spotted-orchids beside the Monsal Trail that I loved to see, but with the fading of wild flowers then other scenes can grab your attention and when the sun is shining light up your life.

Lumsdale Waterfall and the Derwent Valley

Saturday 13th April 2024

Last spring I did some walks in the Peak District with someone I used to work with and have done several walks with before, including up Scafell Pike in 2017 and most recently, in 2022, on Kinder Scout, so it was good to get together again and I took it as an opportunity to revisit some of my much loved walks in the Peak District that, although very familiar to me, was not to my friend. Since I have already described these walks before I was not going to do so again, however, some of the pictures of wild flowers are so gorgeous I can’t resist posting them and this one had enough variation to warrant describing in more detail. It was inspired by a round of the Derwent Valley I previously did in 2022 and also by a list of places in the Peak District that my friend had found on social media. Most were on the far side of the National Park, but there was one that intrigued me because I had never heard of it, despite it being near the town of Matlock. So, I combined his little 2.5 mile walk near Matlock with my walk around the Derwent Valley and I drove up the M1 eventually parking on Lumsdale Road at the starting point of a short walk past Lumsdale Waterfall. We set off down the road and soon we left it to descend steeply beside Bentley Brook which was producing a spectacular display of many small waterfalls and cascades as it dropped rapidly down the hillside through rocks and under the cover of bare trees. My friend and I were spellbound by the display, though I was frustrated when I realised that the battery on my camera was flat so I was forced to rely on my mobile phone for pictures on the whole walk.

On returning to the road the prescribed walk would have soon had us return to my car, possibly past other delights that may been worth seeing (we must make a return visit), but instead I now diverted us onto my round of the Derwent Valley reversing the direction I had taken in 2022. We climbed up out of the valley past Riber Castle and along Hearthstone Lane which led us into Coumbs Wood where we found a fabulous display of bluebells that were only just beginning to flower but still looked great and compensated for the muddy path.

Our route through Coumbs Wood was not precisely as I had intended but it seemed as if my missed turning had led us into such an amazing display that it must have been better than the route we should have taken. At the bottom of the valley we crossed the river and railway to reach High Peak Junction where we stopped for lunch before setting off again, this time beside the Cromford Canal, which took us into the village of Cromford where we were soon climbing again through woodland. This was immediately a delight for me as we passed many wildflowers that had me taking loads of pictures and gushing enthusiastically about the displays of wood anemones, celandines and bluebells, though my friend was less impressed.

All too soon, for me, we climbed out of the wood and across grassland that I remembered from previously had been tricky to navigate over as the path was not clear and this time in the other direction it was only slightly better. Our route took us past the tourist attraction of the Heights of Abraham, which is usually reached by cable car, before gradually descending through woodland that I would normally have loved if not for the spectacular displays seen earlier in the walk. Eventually we branched off my route of 2022, which would have taken us into the centre of Matlock, to drop down to the bottom of the valley and follow the River Derwent around Pic Tor. We now had a problem as my car was stuck at the top of a hill and we had to walk all the way back up, which was even more frustrating as it was beside the busy Chesterfield Road, so by the time we reached the top of the hill we were both very tired. A lesson from this is to never park your car for a walk at the top of a hill as you’ll only have to climb back up to it at the end of the walk when you are already worn out. I loved seeing the wild flowers on this walk while it was the waterfall that was the most memorable part for my friend.

I love the spring and the wild flowers at that time of the year that produce a tremendous display, particularly under woodland, and never fail to enliven my spirit even when my body may be feeling weak. I had been lacking energy before this walk and was unsure of whether I would be able to get out, but once I did I found a new lease of life so that by the time I was passing the wondrous displays of wild flowers above Cromford, I was skipping up the hill like a child. After the long, cold, miserable winter when nothing grows I always look forward to spring with eager anticipation and now that we are at the start of spring again I can’t wait to get out and see the fabulous displays of wild flowers. A woodland walk at this time of the year is better medicine than anything you can get from the pharmacy.

Blea Tarn and High Seat

Saturday 4th January 2025

On my last day in the Lake District I set off from the Borrowdale Youth Hostel initially following the route of the Coast to Coast Walk, which crosses the fields in Borrowdale where the ground was frozen solid and the latches on the gates were frozen shut, while snow covered the fells. The roads in Rosthwaite were treacherously covered in black ice, so I reflected that it might be a good idea to avoid the high fells where crampons and ice axes would be needed. Instead, I thought I’d take to the gentler slopes of the Central Fells, north of Ullscarf, and to start I took the gloriously rocky path that climbs out of Borrowdale with lingering views behind me of the surrounding mountains before descending to Watendlath to linger beside the tarn where the surroundings hills were reflected in the still waters. This is supposed to be a tourist-filled place, but it feels like every time I have been there it has been deserted, probably because the weather is always bad when I pass through since when the weather is good I am always at the top of the high fells. The path beyond climbed steeply up the hillside to a junction where I turned right, ignoring the path that keeps ahead to High Tove, which with hindsight I should have taken. Instead, I followed a sketchy path that crosses notoriously boggy slopes that I had assumed would now be frozen, so I was surprised to discover that this was not the case and made this a difficult traverse.

I have not walked along this path much and certainly not in the last ten years and, based on the lack of footprints, it seems no one else had been there recently either. Slowly, I made my way along the path, towards Blea Tarn with a crazy idea of climbing Bell Crags which lies to the north of Ullscarf, but my slow progress eventually convinced me that this was a foolhardy enterprise, so I came off the path and crossed the heather-covered, snowy ground to reach the fence that follows the watershed across the Central Fells and turned north to follow it. I now tried to keep my pace up as I was worried about the bus that I had to catch in Keswick, but my way was slowed by the snow and lack of a path. It had been intention to visit Armboth Fell, which lies to the east of the fells, since I’ve only ever been there once before, but this is a nondescript blip on the side of High Tove and is undeserving of the attention that Wainwright paid to it. The diversion looked too demanding to appeal and soon I realised that I would have to leave it for another day. I continued to battle through the snow and heather passing over several minor tops before finally reaching the cairn on High Tove as the mist started to descend producing almost white-out conditions. However, there is a clear, manufactured path between High Tove and High Seat that provided me with a reliable guide and sure footing through the bogs until I began to climb up to the trig point at the top of High Seat.

The snow that covered the fell was satisfyingly wintry so I stopped for my lunch to take in the view while the low cloud eventually cleared to reveal stunning views north across the fells to the lakes of Bassenthwaite and Derwent Water, and to Skiddaw in the far north whose top shines a brilliant white in my pictures. It was great to be sitting in the snow with these scenes before me, especially since it is a long time since I had last done any walking in this sort of weather, so it was a shame about the grey clouds, which rather spoilt the scene that would have been amazing under clear blue skies. It was still very satisfying to have that familiar, though now rarely heard, sound of snow crunching under my feet as I made my way from High Seat to Bleaberry Fell. I know from past experience that the path is indistinct but in the snow I could just follow everyone else’s footprints, even though this once led my astray and forced a retreat. Eventually the footprints led me up to the mist-covered top of Bleaberry Fell and after passing over the summit I began to descend steeply, which was very difficult in the icy conditions on the stones of the manufactured path, which did not help with my footing, so I veered off into the heather to find surer ground.

Eventually I emerged out of the snow and with a good surface underfoot I continued across the vast fell until I climbed up to the top of Walla Crag where I had tremendous views across Derwent Water and Keswick, despite the overcast conditions. Most times I have been to Walla Crag I have walked along the clifftop path that provides an exciting route through the trees and excellent views, but for a change I decided that on this occasion I would keep to the fellside and follow the wide path down the hill, past Rakefoot, beside Brockle Beck and into Keswick where I waited for my bus. My holiday over the New Year was in two very different halves with wet and windy weather at the end of 2024 that prevented me from going very high, but after the New Year the weather turned cold, which provided me an opportunity to do some very satisfying fell walks that were both exciting and fun. It is always great being in the Lake District, despite how stupendously busy it is, but for that reason I try to ration myself so I don’t add to the crowds too often.