Eating in the Min-y-Mor
I was booked in here by the TI Office. It is a family seaside hotel on the front and out of town with glorious views across the sea to Abersoch.
The room is to a good standard including a full bath bathroom.
I have descended to eat.
There are three location options. The bar - seems full of noisy, shell suit family holidaymakers, the restaurant - a huge room, cold, that could sit fifty or sixty with not a single table occupied, and as I am shown round the options, the Bistro, "where there's perhaps more atmosphere" I am informed, well the emphasis should be on the word "perhaps". Four of eight tables are occupied, all by elderly couples rarely speaking to each other, and then only in subdued, almost whispers. There was more life in Tutankhamen's tomb.
I sit down and feel stifled. I want to jump up and shout " Geronimo" very loudly, then trundle the Calf rock off down into Ilkley. I think my ordering of a second pint of draught beer convinces all that I am alcoholic.
Salt and pepper is obtained from battery powered mills which make a chainsaw-like noise, but produce little result, so if you want a decent amount you risk embarrassment for the lengthy noise as every body watches. The waitress tries to liven things up by switching on some fairy light window lights. - gasps of amazement from everybody; but the people near that window object and the lights are switched off. At last a bit of spirit from somebody. For the first time ever I am crying out for Muzak.
Gayle - Slate table mats. Perhaps they are ex-platters that people objected to ?
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Thursday, 24 September 2015
Boston to Barmouth - day 18 (last day)
Thursday 24th September - Bala to Barmouth
The whole of today's walk was on the old railway line Mawddach Trail named after the river which flows out at Barmouth. For the first quarter of a mile I was with the school kids until they turned off - felt a bit incongruous, the geriatric walker at the end of 280 miles amongst these youngsters. Some were chatting in Welsh and others in English. One young couple were holding hands and obviously attached - gosh, I never got that far before leaving school.
This is a fine cycle route but I only saw two or three bikes over the whole distance. Views down the estuary were magnificent with blue sky and a fresh wind. A perfect end to the walk finishing over the railway bridge surrounded by hills and sea.
I am overnighting in Barmouth then off to visit my brother (RR) and his wife in Hereford.
-------------------
I have enjoyed this Macmillan walk more than the Abbotsbury one earlier this year. It seemed to be more connected with the real England I think of, and also had the wonderful climax of crossing Wales.
I have been extraordinarily lucky with the weather. In the earlier flatlands there was quite a lot of crop field walking, and also ploughed fields which would be a nightmare in the wet. Later, paths became more genuine ancient inter-village connections and old lanes. There has been a huge amount of Tarmac which I don't mind, most of it on almost deserted country lanes. The hills in Wales are no problem to me, that is a large part of what makes it attractive,
and I found myself summiting them more easily as I became more tuned in.
I kept a stile count up to 102 then lost count. I reckon the total would have been around 135.
One great big thank you to Mick and Gayle who gave me four nights accommodation and chauffeured me backwards and forwards and into Wolverhampton to buy new shoes amongst their many other kindnesses and generosity - true friends.
The tree lined Mawddach Trail opened out into glorious estuary-scape later
Crossing the river not far from Dolgellau the trail crossed back again later
First sight of the Barmouth bridge, well I could see it but the camera is struggling
Crossing the Barmouth bridge (rail and foot only - cars have to drive a heck of a way round).
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
The whole of today's walk was on the old railway line Mawddach Trail named after the river which flows out at Barmouth. For the first quarter of a mile I was with the school kids until they turned off - felt a bit incongruous, the geriatric walker at the end of 280 miles amongst these youngsters. Some were chatting in Welsh and others in English. One young couple were holding hands and obviously attached - gosh, I never got that far before leaving school.
This is a fine cycle route but I only saw two or three bikes over the whole distance. Views down the estuary were magnificent with blue sky and a fresh wind. A perfect end to the walk finishing over the railway bridge surrounded by hills and sea.
I am overnighting in Barmouth then off to visit my brother (RR) and his wife in Hereford.
-------------------
I have enjoyed this Macmillan walk more than the Abbotsbury one earlier this year. It seemed to be more connected with the real England I think of, and also had the wonderful climax of crossing Wales.
I have been extraordinarily lucky with the weather. In the earlier flatlands there was quite a lot of crop field walking, and also ploughed fields which would be a nightmare in the wet. Later, paths became more genuine ancient inter-village connections and old lanes. There has been a huge amount of Tarmac which I don't mind, most of it on almost deserted country lanes. The hills in Wales are no problem to me, that is a large part of what makes it attractive,
and I found myself summiting them more easily as I became more tuned in.
I kept a stile count up to 102 then lost count. I reckon the total would have been around 135.
One great big thank you to Mick and Gayle who gave me four nights accommodation and chauffeured me backwards and forwards and into Wolverhampton to buy new shoes amongst their many other kindnesses and generosity - true friends.
The tree lined Mawddach Trail opened out into glorious estuary-scape later
Crossing the river not far from Dolgellau the trail crossed back again later
First sight of the Barmouth bridge, well I could see it but the camera is struggling
Crossing the Barmouth bridge (rail and foot only - cars have to drive a heck of a way round).
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Wednesday, 23 September 2015
Boston to Barmouth - day 18
Wednesday 23rd September - Bala to Dolgellau
There was no logistically suitable accommodation between Bala and Dolgellau and following the exact Macmillan route involved 22 miles plus.
I reckoned I could shave that by walking on the road from Bala to Llanuwchllyn then continuing with the proper route.
"Red sky in the morning - shepherd's warning", so I was off to a rosy start at 6:50 am. I had arranged to help myself to juice, cereal etc. in lieu of the full English/Welsh Breakfast.
The road went ok and then I was onto tracks, and not so good paths, and the shepherd delivered with rain about 11:00 am, which continued for the rest of the day.
Eventually I was onto better surfaces and emerged from the wilds into Dolgellau a bit wet and bedraggled. It was 4:50 pm - ten hours of pretty concentrated walking. I had pre-booked at the Royal Sailor. Bad news, "your room is on the third floor", good news, " there is a lift".
I seem to be able to walk forever, but going up and down stairs is becoming almost problematic. I am sat here in the Royal Ship (that's three Royals in a row... In Wales) with my supposedly good leg outstretched putting passing waitresses in peril ( or peryl as they say hereabouts).
I have done a quick route measurement on Memory Map which suggests I have walked about 19.5 miles.
Gayle - you will be amused to hear that my room key is attached to a huge slab of slate. If I go out into the town I would need a wheelbarrow to carry it.
Looks like I've about ten miles to do tomorrow to the finish - I'm giving the knees a pep talk.
White Lion ROYAL Hotel, Bala. Early morning light
Lake Bala, early morning.
A bit later on
I' m all for progress but how can you improve on this Victorian post box?
Cader Idris ?
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There was no logistically suitable accommodation between Bala and Dolgellau and following the exact Macmillan route involved 22 miles plus.
I reckoned I could shave that by walking on the road from Bala to Llanuwchllyn then continuing with the proper route.
"Red sky in the morning - shepherd's warning", so I was off to a rosy start at 6:50 am. I had arranged to help myself to juice, cereal etc. in lieu of the full English/Welsh Breakfast.
The road went ok and then I was onto tracks, and not so good paths, and the shepherd delivered with rain about 11:00 am, which continued for the rest of the day.
Eventually I was onto better surfaces and emerged from the wilds into Dolgellau a bit wet and bedraggled. It was 4:50 pm - ten hours of pretty concentrated walking. I had pre-booked at the Royal Sailor. Bad news, "your room is on the third floor", good news, " there is a lift".
I seem to be able to walk forever, but going up and down stairs is becoming almost problematic. I am sat here in the Royal Ship (that's three Royals in a row... In Wales) with my supposedly good leg outstretched putting passing waitresses in peril ( or peryl as they say hereabouts).
I have done a quick route measurement on Memory Map which suggests I have walked about 19.5 miles.
Gayle - you will be amused to hear that my room key is attached to a huge slab of slate. If I go out into the town I would need a wheelbarrow to carry it.
Looks like I've about ten miles to do tomorrow to the finish - I'm giving the knees a pep talk.
White Lion ROYAL Hotel, Bala. Early morning light
Lake Bala, early morning.
A bit later on
I' m all for progress but how can you improve on this Victorian post box?
Cader Idris ?
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Tuesday, 22 September 2015
Boston to Barmouth - day 17
Lake Vyrnwy to Bala Tuesday 22nd September
Last night The "oggie" turned out to be a glorified Cornish pasty and I have to say it was delicious, but it was unimaginatively served on a token bed of mashed potato and nothing else. What a disappointment, especially considering the £11.50 price, for what could have been a good meal with a little more thought. I was still hungry. Normally I would go for a dessert but ended up ordering the paté from the starter menu. Now this arrived with a small Kilner jar containing a massive amount pâté and salad leaves, and four slices of toast and maybe something I have forgotten . It was good. The point is that this starter was much more of a main course than the Oggie. The place I was eating in was a good class bar offshoot of a very expensive spa hotel - the sort of people who should know what they are doing.
'Twas rain all day, on and off, never heavy. I pounded the six miles from the lake dam to its other end in 1hr. 40mins. There was nothing to see, it was tree lined on both sides
.
Four kilometres of mostly steep ascent followed to get to the watershed and the descent down the Hirnant pass. I felt fit and walked more or less non stop all day. From Lake V onwards the scenery just got better and better.
It is supposed to be fifteen miles from Lake V dam to Bala - not sure what my exact distance was ending up at the White Lion in the Main Street, but I took exactly six hours so that was a minimum 2.5 mph - not bad for an old codger.
Looks like I'm going to finish early on this walk on Thursday.
1881 to 1888. They knew how to build in those days. I love this architecture
On the way up to the Hirnant valley down the other side
All Tarmac but who cares with this kind of scenery
Now then you tractor buffs. What about this one?
Bala.
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Last night The "oggie" turned out to be a glorified Cornish pasty and I have to say it was delicious, but it was unimaginatively served on a token bed of mashed potato and nothing else. What a disappointment, especially considering the £11.50 price, for what could have been a good meal with a little more thought. I was still hungry. Normally I would go for a dessert but ended up ordering the paté from the starter menu. Now this arrived with a small Kilner jar containing a massive amount pâté and salad leaves, and four slices of toast and maybe something I have forgotten . It was good. The point is that this starter was much more of a main course than the Oggie. The place I was eating in was a good class bar offshoot of a very expensive spa hotel - the sort of people who should know what they are doing.
'Twas rain all day, on and off, never heavy. I pounded the six miles from the lake dam to its other end in 1hr. 40mins. There was nothing to see, it was tree lined on both sides
.
Four kilometres of mostly steep ascent followed to get to the watershed and the descent down the Hirnant pass. I felt fit and walked more or less non stop all day. From Lake V onwards the scenery just got better and better.
It is supposed to be fifteen miles from Lake V dam to Bala - not sure what my exact distance was ending up at the White Lion in the Main Street, but I took exactly six hours so that was a minimum 2.5 mph - not bad for an old codger.
Looks like I'm going to finish early on this walk on Thursday.
1881 to 1888. They knew how to build in those days. I love this architecture
On the way up to the Hirnant valley down the other side
All Tarmac but who cares with this kind of scenery
Now then you tractor buffs. What about this one?
Bala.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Monday, 21 September 2015
Boston to Barmouth - day 16
Monday 21st September - Pontrobert to Llanwddyn (Lake Vyrnwy)
The first proper rain showed itself this morning but somehow I didn't care. I've got some good gear and the rain was only light, but it did last until around midday. The scenery and ambience were attractive and colours seemed to be brightened by the rain. In This part of Wales it is like walking through a giant inverted verdant egg box as one climbs out of one secret valley, and then drops down into another. It is all delight.
Cows followed me at one stage for about quarter of a mile on a track, then I heard a car coming - the cows at last veered off into the field. The car stopped. I assumed it must be the farmer, "are they your cows?" I enquired, "Yes, CATTLE" he corrected me. I had noticed they didn't have certain female attributes. He was a decent type looking very comfortable in the car contrasting with my drizzle outside, but I was happy enough.
My route was following the river Vyrnwy with alternating woodland and sheep cropped pasture, walking perfection
Dolanog is a small village and I hardly expected a village shop with a coffee machine. I was correct. I sat on the village bench and took a breather. A couple came up the road with two dogs, one enormous and the other tiny. We chatted and I joked about the non-existent shop, "you can come back to our house for a coffee if you like". So I spent a pleasant half hour chatting about their time spent in Bulgaria. They had brought the small dog back from there found as a stray. I hope you are keeping a tally Gayle - I'm expecting some sort of a graph or chart.
I continued to follow the river which emanates from Lake Vyrnwy. My B&B was situated just below the dam wall. Ian (his proper name is the Welsh version, not sure how to spell) rears Lleyn sheep, a special breed and is off to auction on Saturday with two rams to sell for breeding, but the association rules say that he must also have ten ewes which he had recently until some workmen left a gate open and two escaped. He is now wondering if he can gain some kind of dispensation - I hope he does. The Gorffwysfa B&B is very welcoming, tea and cake when I arrived and then a lift to the pub which is fifteen minutes walk away where I am now awaiting something called Welsh Oggie. I will report on that next time if I remember.
"Who could wish for anything more"
Dolanog where I was invited for coffee. I was sat on the bench in the recess, end of first building on left
The big dog of the two of the couple who invited me for coffee ( thanks).
More pleasant riverside walking - perfect surface
First view of Lake Vyrnwy
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The first proper rain showed itself this morning but somehow I didn't care. I've got some good gear and the rain was only light, but it did last until around midday. The scenery and ambience were attractive and colours seemed to be brightened by the rain. In This part of Wales it is like walking through a giant inverted verdant egg box as one climbs out of one secret valley, and then drops down into another. It is all delight.
Cows followed me at one stage for about quarter of a mile on a track, then I heard a car coming - the cows at last veered off into the field. The car stopped. I assumed it must be the farmer, "are they your cows?" I enquired, "Yes, CATTLE" he corrected me. I had noticed they didn't have certain female attributes. He was a decent type looking very comfortable in the car contrasting with my drizzle outside, but I was happy enough.
My route was following the river Vyrnwy with alternating woodland and sheep cropped pasture, walking perfection
Dolanog is a small village and I hardly expected a village shop with a coffee machine. I was correct. I sat on the village bench and took a breather. A couple came up the road with two dogs, one enormous and the other tiny. We chatted and I joked about the non-existent shop, "you can come back to our house for a coffee if you like". So I spent a pleasant half hour chatting about their time spent in Bulgaria. They had brought the small dog back from there found as a stray. I hope you are keeping a tally Gayle - I'm expecting some sort of a graph or chart.
I continued to follow the river which emanates from Lake Vyrnwy. My B&B was situated just below the dam wall. Ian (his proper name is the Welsh version, not sure how to spell) rears Lleyn sheep, a special breed and is off to auction on Saturday with two rams to sell for breeding, but the association rules say that he must also have ten ewes which he had recently until some workmen left a gate open and two escaped. He is now wondering if he can gain some kind of dispensation - I hope he does. The Gorffwysfa B&B is very welcoming, tea and cake when I arrived and then a lift to the pub which is fifteen minutes walk away where I am now awaiting something called Welsh Oggie. I will report on that next time if I remember.
"Who could wish for anything more"
Dolanog where I was invited for coffee. I was sat on the bench in the recess, end of first building on left
The big dog of the two of the couple who invited me for coffee ( thanks).
More pleasant riverside walking - perfect surface
First view of Lake Vyrnwy
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Sunday, 20 September 2015
Boston to Barmouth - day 15
Sunday 20th September - Welshpool to Pontrobert
Today's walk was only about ten miles. Daily mileage is dictated by available accommodation on the route. But, I am finding that ten miles is comfortable, and enough in this Welsh hilly countryside. The hummocky scenery makes for steep ups and downs and views are ever changing - it is wonderful walking country. Others may complain at the uphill stuff, but this is what we come to Wales for, isn't it?
Apparently I missed a Marilyn summit yesterday by 100m. I have to admit to that being a bit of a blow.
By coincidence my stay tonight is also in The Royal Oak. Until a few years ago this was a thriving pub providing many meal covers per night through the week until the landlady's partner became terminally I'll and she nursed him and let the business decline. Now she is going out to work at 6:00 am as a carer for the sick and returning at 3:00pm to run the pub, mainly for a handful of local farmers, and often not retiring until after midnight. I was given an excellent chicken dinner and sat chatting with Joyce in front of a big log fire in what is more of a sitting room than a pub. The logs are provided by locals and others seem to be helping to keep this invaluable enterprise going. I have been given a tray of breakfast items including two eggs to boil - there is a kitchen attached to my sleeping quarters. THIS IS THE KIND OF EXPERIENCE AND DISCOVERY THAT PROVIDES A LARGE PART OF THE FULFILMENT FOR ME ON THESE TRIPS. I made some cynical comments on the previous post about my anticipation of this overnight based on the room which is pretty basic, but that has been reflected in the modest price I have just paid. For me this has been the best stop on the trip so far.
Sunday morning Welshpool
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Today's walk was only about ten miles. Daily mileage is dictated by available accommodation on the route. But, I am finding that ten miles is comfortable, and enough in this Welsh hilly countryside. The hummocky scenery makes for steep ups and downs and views are ever changing - it is wonderful walking country. Others may complain at the uphill stuff, but this is what we come to Wales for, isn't it?
Apparently I missed a Marilyn summit yesterday by 100m. I have to admit to that being a bit of a blow.
By coincidence my stay tonight is also in The Royal Oak. Until a few years ago this was a thriving pub providing many meal covers per night through the week until the landlady's partner became terminally I'll and she nursed him and let the business decline. Now she is going out to work at 6:00 am as a carer for the sick and returning at 3:00pm to run the pub, mainly for a handful of local farmers, and often not retiring until after midnight. I was given an excellent chicken dinner and sat chatting with Joyce in front of a big log fire in what is more of a sitting room than a pub. The logs are provided by locals and others seem to be helping to keep this invaluable enterprise going. I have been given a tray of breakfast items including two eggs to boil - there is a kitchen attached to my sleeping quarters. THIS IS THE KIND OF EXPERIENCE AND DISCOVERY THAT PROVIDES A LARGE PART OF THE FULFILMENT FOR ME ON THESE TRIPS. I made some cynical comments on the previous post about my anticipation of this overnight based on the room which is pretty basic, but that has been reflected in the modest price I have just paid. For me this has been the best stop on the trip so far.
Sunday morning Welshpool
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Saturday, 19 September 2015
Boston to Barmouth - day 14
Saturday 19th September - Brockton to Welshpool
Yesterday took a lot out of me. The terrain was more hilly and a lot of time consuming navigation was required ending up with a later arrival than anticipated at the beginning of the day. It was also very hot, and the final frustration in the heat was mentally and physically tiring, but something always turns up, and of course there is always the tent...
This morning I had a "continental" breakfast to beat their 8:30 standard breakfast time. The girl who sorted my bill was unaware of my tale of woe from last night and she took pity by offering to drive me the one and a half miles back to "1 out of 4 Brockton". I had worked out a contingency plan and was glad I didn't have to use it.
From Brockton it was an unrelenting four kilometre climb on a narrow hardly used cul-de-sac Tarmac lane gaining 215m. I took that so steady: one hour and twenty minutes. The continuation as a field path still kept climbing.
After that there was tricky navigation and one gate fixed with twisted barbed wire which I dextrously unentangled. At some point I hooked up with Offa's Dyke path and then descended very steeply to Welshpool. Well, at least I have made it to Wales.
The Royal Oak Hotel, Weslshpool is the best of British traditional hotel stock, charging appropriately. A bit of negotiating got the initial quote for B&B down by £29, I'm not saying what the actual price was.
I've just had an avocado and prawn "tian". It was a superb creation. I asked the head honcho what tian meant. "Well, it means layered. A Chef's word" he brushed off in jocular fashion. The creation was superb, and for that the chef is entitled to call it what he wants. Gayle may have been dismayed, it was served on a piece of slate.
Now I've just finished his steak and ale pie. It came with chips prepared with skill, and an individual pie, not in a dish, so no nonsense deciding how to extricate it all, and with a perfect totally enclosed shortcut pastry, and balanced taste. Also a little boat of proper gravy to dip the chips in if you want, and a little accompaniment of water cress. This is a thinking chef.
Now for Bara Brith: I discovered this Welsh version of fruit cake on my Welsh boundary walk. I feel a bit guilty at tonight's extravagance, but have just decided that it is my mandatory celebration of my return to Wales.
I'm signing off now.
Welshpool
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Yesterday took a lot out of me. The terrain was more hilly and a lot of time consuming navigation was required ending up with a later arrival than anticipated at the beginning of the day. It was also very hot, and the final frustration in the heat was mentally and physically tiring, but something always turns up, and of course there is always the tent...
This morning I had a "continental" breakfast to beat their 8:30 standard breakfast time. The girl who sorted my bill was unaware of my tale of woe from last night and she took pity by offering to drive me the one and a half miles back to "1 out of 4 Brockton". I had worked out a contingency plan and was glad I didn't have to use it.
From Brockton it was an unrelenting four kilometre climb on a narrow hardly used cul-de-sac Tarmac lane gaining 215m. I took that so steady: one hour and twenty minutes. The continuation as a field path still kept climbing.
After that there was tricky navigation and one gate fixed with twisted barbed wire which I dextrously unentangled. At some point I hooked up with Offa's Dyke path and then descended very steeply to Welshpool. Well, at least I have made it to Wales.
The Royal Oak Hotel, Weslshpool is the best of British traditional hotel stock, charging appropriately. A bit of negotiating got the initial quote for B&B down by £29, I'm not saying what the actual price was.
I've just had an avocado and prawn "tian". It was a superb creation. I asked the head honcho what tian meant. "Well, it means layered. A Chef's word" he brushed off in jocular fashion. The creation was superb, and for that the chef is entitled to call it what he wants. Gayle may have been dismayed, it was served on a piece of slate.
Now I've just finished his steak and ale pie. It came with chips prepared with skill, and an individual pie, not in a dish, so no nonsense deciding how to extricate it all, and with a perfect totally enclosed shortcut pastry, and balanced taste. Also a little boat of proper gravy to dip the chips in if you want, and a little accompaniment of water cress. This is a thinking chef.
Now for Bara Brith: I discovered this Welsh version of fruit cake on my Welsh boundary walk. I feel a bit guilty at tonight's extravagance, but have just decided that it is my mandatory celebration of my return to Wales.
I'm signing off now.
Welshpool
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
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