Category: Europe
A grey day around Connemara
19th December 2022 The second full day of my August 2018 trip to the West of Ireland remained dry until the evening when heavy rain came. That persisted overnight, and I was to see its effects the next day. The incoming weather front ensured that leaden skies that engulfed the tops of even low hills. Thus, even the prospect of getting clear views from any kind of elevation was going to be a non-starter.
That was a little way into the future when I went into Galway's coach station to catch a bus to Recess. Most were assembling for tourist coach excursions with traditional Irish music playing in the background. What amazed was how easily relief coaches would appear to take the overflow. It really was a case of earning revenue while the customers were there.
When I did get to Recess, the day felt decidedly autumnal. Views over Glendollagh Lough were so grey and overcast that any photos would be record shot material. My target for a hike was Cnoc Lios Uachtar, but that was so buried in low cloud that I changed my plans. What I desired were clear views, not a navigational challenge.
Instead, I opted for a yomp around by Derryclare Lough. The Twelve Bens were just as cloud covered as their lower neighbour, so anything featuring one of Ireland's best known photographic subjects was going to need a return visit if I wanted my own effort at capturing the view to somewhat shine for me. What also amazed me is the electrical power lines blighted the scene. Burying them sounds a tempting way to rewild what is there.
Following the R344 got me to Weir Bridge, where thoughts of following the old railway line appealed. Sadly, they were not realistic, so I followed the N59 to Recess. Given the size of the place and the conditions, I ended up catching another bus to Clifden. Rushed boarding meant that another passenger needed to duck out of the way of the load on my back. This was yet another argument in favour of the folding walking poles that did not arrive in time for my trip. Nevertheless, there was no lasting impact to the day because of this oversight.
Once in Clifden, I pottered towards the coast. Following a minor road took me along by its harbour before I turned inland to return to the town centre again. This was another short stroll and the place was quiet, even though this was the weekend of its annual agricultural show. That was set to have an impact on traffic the following day, but it had little impact on my roaming before then.
Another bus returned me to Galway, where I had plans for the evening. On the way, I noted where Clifden Show was being held and all the horse boxes that were parked in its vicinity. After that, there were stopping points for beginning hikes near and around the Twelve Bens. There were many lakes to see too, for this is countryside that is well watered. Perhaps perversely, there was some brighter weather around Oughterard and Moycullen, but I just admired any scenery that we passed. Some of the reconnaissance would be used on the following day.
Travel Arrangements
Single journeys with Irish Citylink from Galway to Recess, Recess to Clifden and Clifden to Galway.
A damp hike along Clare cliff tops
18th December 2022 This report comes from a trip to the counties of Galway and Clare in August 2018. While that year brought a lot of sunshine, this was a fading memory by the time of a stay that was based in Galway city. The autumn was to bring a share of rain that was welcomed by farmers, who otherwise faced a tough end to a year when feeding for livestock was in short supply.
Though there were sunny interludes, grey weather was my lot for much of the time. Given the rather clandestine nature of the escapade (very few knew what I was doing, since I fancied some quiet time to myself in the country of my birth), the juxtaposition of less-than-glorious weather felt like a repudiation of what I was doing. Even so, I made the best of it.
The first full day of the trip came damp, yet that did not deter me from going to Cliffs of Moher and Doolin. The outbound bus journey rounded Galway Bay with a sighting of Dunguaire Castle near Kinvarra before we then continued around by Black Head. On a bright, sunny day, this would have been a glorious journey. Alas, another attempt will be needed for that, and the castle looked inviting too.
What was equally striking was the narrowness of the roads that the bus driver needed to negotiate, especially with ongoing cars. Several buses left Galway at the same time to follow the same route, each one having a different final destination. It seems that Irish summer school holidays allow extra bus services to run, and for existing ones to get capacity improvements. All get withdrawn at the end of summer, when schools reopen for the new academic year.
The bus called to Doolin, so I got to see its calling point for the end of my planned walk. There, most of the passengers appeared to leave too. Once at the Cliffs of Moher, there was a shout for us to pay for our way into the amenity. If I had gone to Lehinch or Liscannor, I wonder if that charge might have been avoided. For a better day, thoughts of walking from either of those to Doolin have their appeal.
Instead, I pottered south as far as the Moher Tower on Hag's Head before turning back again. Some were edging towards the cliff edge as I suppressed urges to roar at them to get back. Limestone is a slippery rock when wet, so any slippage would have been fatal; it was easy to see why superintendents were using whistles to tell people to stay back. The prospect of a long drop into the cold surf was enough to make me to the landward side of any fencing slabs that were present. Views were restricted by the damp fog and mist, and photography was limited. Only record shots were a possibility.
The way back towards the Visitor Center and O 'Brien's Tower often got slowed by those unaccustomed to walking, for these cliffs are world-famous and a must-see on any coaching tour of Ireland. My desire for speed may have intruded on their day, but I got past all of them on what was a narrow path. The way up Branaunmore was misty but well paved, and it was the descent down the other side that held my attention because that was less well surfaced with added exposure as well.
Things got less dramatic once I got past Knockardakin, and I largely had the trail to myself all the way to Doolin, too. The Burren Way briefly took me onto tarmac before returning to field crossing again. The obvious trail stayed back from any edges, so I got to relax a bit more. Largely having things to myself also helped with this as I shortened the distance to Doolin with a castle in view to my right.
The time of arrival meant that I had quite a wait for the next bus. That was used for getting something to eat and to see where boats depart for the Aran Islands and for trips under the Cliffs of Moher. The extra time may have been available because I had just missed a departing bus that I never saw, but there was no let-up on the greyness, even if the dampness had stalled.
There was no mistake made in getting on the next bus to Galway, and it went by a different route. This took us via Lisdoonvarna and gave us a brief stop at Corkscrew Hill to savour the view of Galway Bay below us. From Ballyvaughan, we were going back the way as the outbound bus had gone. Weather does not always work in our favour, so a revisit remains a plausible possibility.
Travel Arrangements
Return bus journey between Galway and Doolin on Bus Éireann service 350.
A short amble about Yr Eifl
12th December 2022 One trip often inspires another, and my visit to the Llŷn Peninsula was another example of this, following on from another to Barmouth. One motivation was to have travelled the entire length of the Cambrian Coast railway line, while another was to visit Yr Eifl after seeing it featured in various magazine route descriptions over the years.
My plan had been to catch a bus from Pwllheli to Llithfaen and walk around Yr Eifl before returning to Pwllheli on foot. That did not happen for various reasons, though indecisiveness on my part affected my traipsing around Yr Eifl.
Firstly, there was the fact that this is a long rail journey so that limited how much time I had available, especially with an arrival time after 13:00 after an early start from Macclesfield. The Sunday timetable was poor for much of the year as well, which meant that weekend stays are not supported as they might be elsewhere. Thus, I wanted to avoid getting marooned.
This was another hot day, and my progress may have been slower than it would have been on a cooler one. Of course, there might have been an element of underestimation in the time needed to get to the main top of Yr Eifl anyway. When this is put together with a fear of getting marooned on a Welsh extremity, cautiousness was bound to intrude.
Given the time strictures, I set off out of Llithfaen without delay, not that there was much there to hold me anyway. Its only shop had shut for the day in what felt like a very sleepy place. Thus, this was going to be one of the quieter strolls that I ever have done. It was a case of following the lane by Tynyparc and getting out onto the open hillside, where there are many paths, for this is access land. Rights of way are my normal preference, so I followed one past Caergribin before following a less formal path uphill to the summit with views of Mynydd Carnguwch and Cardigan Bay behind me.
Views of the eastern top of Yr Eifl were to distract me on the way up to the main summit. Even among the stony slopes, walls could be seen on the eastern top. These are the remains of the Tre'r Ceiri Hillfort, a sign that these hills have been frequented by humanity since antiquity. Further to the east, there were other hills to be seen once enough height had been gained. This collection includes Moel-Pen-llechog, Gyrn Ddu, Gyrn Goch and Bwlch Mawr. These take up more land area than where I was and might be worth exploring at some point, assuming a return to the area. The scene was beginning to feel more suggestive of being in more immersive hill country, especially with the hills of Snowdonia in the background.
On reaching the main summit, I was greeted by a trig point with the number four added to the top. The letters A and H were added as well, so I wondered if they were the initials of whoever did this. The drop to the sea on the other side is sobering, yet it has not escaped quarrying. Thankfully, I do not recall seeing much in the way of gouges into the landscape, but that might be a different story if I was following the Wales Coast Path, since that gets closer to these active and inactive workings.
My next moves were the subject of some internal debate given time constraints. Visiting the old ramparts of Tre'r Ceiri might have been a no-brainer if it were not for other considerations. Whether I had yet to reject the idea of walking back to Pwllheli or not remains an open question for me now, but I descended to the B4417 in any case. After that, I walked back to Llithfaen again. Traffic was light, and I do know that my mind was set on caution because I caught the next bus back to Pwllheli with time to spare before the next train.
That train was delayed, so I got to spend more time in Pwllheli than I had expected. The delay was heavy, so there was a real risk of missing my connection at Wolverhampton, but I got home that night anyway. Timing concerns mean that it was not the most relaxing of journeys, even with some bright evening sunshine to distract me. The trouble with this section of the British rail network is that much of it is single-track. Thus, a delay to one train can affect others, so there can be all sorts of knock-on effects. In this case, it might have been a passenger falling ill that was the cause of all the trouble. At least, that is what I seem to remember being told when I tried to claim compensation using the Delay Repay scheme.
Even among any qualms, I still began to muse a little over future possibilities. The idea of using Porthmadog as a base appealed to me, possibly because bus connections could address the lack of trains for returning after a weekend getaway. However, a recent look at the train timetable suggests that the Sunday timetable has improved. If so, spending more time near Pwllheli becomes plausible. What I gained was a brief taste of good things, and there are other possibilities in these parts. The railway also serves several access points for other hill walking routes. A bit of advance planning could yield its rewards.
Travel Arrangements
A return train journey between Macclesfield and Pwllheli, followed by a return bus journey between Pwllheli and Llithfaen.
Combining old ways around Barmouth
11th December 2022 2022 has turned out to be a very dry year, which probably has helped with my explorations of parts of Ireland. While we could not imagine it at the time, it has come even drier than 2018, a year that then was being compared to 1976. One June evening, when I went around by Sutton Reservoir, I was stunned by how empty it looked. It may have meant that there was no fishing to be had, but that left its banks emptier for strollers like me.
This past summer also had oppressively warm spells. One in July was not only record-breaking, but also oppressive in the extreme for many of us. For others, it was life-threatening, and I was happy to see temperatures cool afterwards. If I was brave enough, this might have been a good time to try camping or bivvying outside somewhere if it was not too hot to walk; it certainly was virtually impossible to work inside. Another spell arrived in August during my holiday in Ireland and got much hotter after I came home, even if temperatures did stay cooler than they were during the July spell.
In the past, I have written that hot weather is not good hiking weather, yet I have gone out walking in higher temperatures. Much of 2018 was warm, sunny and dry until things got wetter at the end of July. Before that, there was a lot of hot weather. Near the start of the month, I headed to Edinburgh for a day spent around Cramond and the city centre. Shady places were well appreciated whenever I passed through them. Normally, I have mixed feelings about tree cover, but they were set aside in the heat.
The continuation of the heat did nothing to keep me from heading to Wales more than once. The first of these took me to Barmouth, from where I undertook a circular hike that combined a route that I did in May 2005 with one done in November 2014. You could see from the landscape that the warm, dry weather was taking its toll. Vegetation looked dessicated in places, and heat haze bedevilled any photography.
What I have needed to piece together is my route because it slipped from my memory. Even with photos, this has been challenging to work out, much like the places featured into the photos themselves. This is complex ground, with passes getting names instead of hill tops; you can see what was a priority for the locals in older times. One thing cannot be contested, though: the sea is near at hand and added to any views once the right vantage point was reached.
The Cambrian Way has made it onto modern OS maps, and my early wandering either followed or shadowed it, a major change from the days when publicity was curtailed by worries on the part of mountain rescue volunteers. This was the route that I used to ascend steep slopes before passing Dinas Oleu and Garn. The Cambrian Way was left after me for a while as I went around by Gellfawr, Ffridd y Craig and Bwlch y Llan. This was when the sea views opened up for me, though the hills of the Llŷn peninsula were lost in the haze.
Once over Bwlch y Llan and across the route of the Cambrian Way, different views opened before me. Some of these were just as compromised by heat haze as the aforementioned sea views. That included anything situated to the south of where I was, like Cadair Idris and its immediate surroundings. Other hills like Craig y Grut and Diffwys were not so affected, and also occupied my senses as I made my way towards the Cerrig Arthur Stone Circle. This was something that I wanted to visit again for photographic purposes, even if the time of year and the time of day were not the best for what I wanted to achieve. Another visit in May might not be such a bad idea.
My next staging post was the Panorama walk, and memory haze again affects my recollection of the route. There are a few things that stick for me, though. One was a meeting with overly intrusive dogs around Cutiau, while another was the effect the afternoon was having on my energy levels. At least the shade offered by tree cover helped with avoiding the sun as I continued along the lane, and arrival at the Panorama Walk easily punctuated the way back to Barmouth. There was time to dally in the presence of entrancing views before setting off again.
Leaving the environs of the Panorama Walk meant leaving tree cover behind as I went on via Gorllwyn. Barmouth was reached soon enough and with time to spare before my next train. That allowed for some strolling along the shore, taking in views of Barmouth Bridge and what lay beyond it to the east. It was a good end to a walk with its share of tests and delights; there were no regrets.
Travel Arrangements
Return train journey from Macclesfield to Barmouth with a change in Wolverhampton.
Grey at the start and at the end, lots of brightness otherwise
9th December 2022 The trouble with trip reports is that they can descend to being a direct factful recollection of a route followed on a day hike. That may explain partly why I have been tardy with sharing these, but the lockdown period of the pandemic has had its impact as well. Sometimes, it works best to leave things a while so that their associated emotional intensity wanes. The vantage point at the time of writing matters too; when there is nothing much happening in one's life, it can result in uninspired scribblings.
This is being written in a time of tumult, when looking back on the past can offer a brief diversion from a life beset by strikes, wars, ongoing works and increasing costs of living. Public transport is not as dependable as it once was, so getting into the countryside now involves a mix of patience and creativity, unless you have your own transport. In fact, many will rely only on their own resources when others appear to be letting them down.
When I went to Shropshire in February 2018, none of this lay in my mind. Then, I was on a career break and contemplating my next career moves. This was a matter of rest, healing and reflection after a few years of upheaval, bereavement and legal works that wore me out more than I had realised. Only later did I learn how caffeine consumption covers up a lot of this weariness.
The prospects for a sunny day out did not look good when I arrived in Church Stretton. Skies were grey and gloomy, and there was a hint of drizzle in the air. None of this deflected me from heading for Carding Mill Valley, and my first encounter with this part of Shropshire may have been on a grey, cold December Sunday, assuming that my memory is not failing me.
Shropshire's hills may be low in stature, but many of the ascents and descents are steep and joint-testing. Thus, there was quite a pull to get into the Carding Mill Valley, and it got tougher on the way up Mott's Road. This did nothing to deter others who were going the same way, persisting as I was.
In time, gradients eased and people peeled off on my going onto a bridleway leading me towards the Port Way. Instead of continuing on towards Woolstaston, I turned left towards the Betchcott Hills. Around there, clouds broke overhead to give more hope for the rest of the day. Clouds were still going to obstruct the sun at times, but there were photographic opportunities to come too.
Farm tracks were what was going to convey me across the Betchcott Hills to Wilderley Hill. Until there, navigation was a simple affair. Near Thresholds, things became a bit less clear, so my route finding was not as smooth as I might have liked on someone else's land. The size of the field meant that it probably was ideal for map and compass work, but I found my way without any untoward encounter or any exchange of cross words.
After becoming more confident about where I was going around Cothercott Hill, views of the Stiperstones opened up before me. There was a catch though because there was a stiff descent down to the road near New Leasowes Farm. Some of the going was muddy, too, especially as I neared the road. From there, I went around by Leasowes Bank Farm by byroad and farm track until I met with another lane.
While I fancied cutting the amount of road walking by following a right of way that lead through Hollies Farm, this did not look like such a friendly option even if it was part of the Shropshire Way. Going through farmyards never appeals that much to me anyway, so I opted to walk the quiet road instead while marvelling at how many larger vehicles were travelling along the one linking Stedment and Stiperstones. The surrounding countryside appealed to me too, which lessened the length of the journey for me.
Near Stedment, I turned right to close in on the Stiperstones ridge. On the final approaches to that turning, I noted how old my paper map was. There was an entire farmyard missing from it, so it was time for a replacement. Given that I was backed up by the Ordnance Survey app on my phone, there was no chance of a wrong turn based on old information. A new paper map was acquired soon afterwards.
Gaining height meant opening up more views of what lay about me. If there was more traffic on the road crossing the Stiperstones than what I saw earlier, it largely is lost to my recollection now. What I do remember is seeing a tractor being used to put out winter feeding to otherwise grazing sheep. Seeing the size of it caused me to remark to myself how large tractors had become these days compared to what they were when I was growing up on an Irish dairy farm.
Since it was half-term time and I may have seen more people about because of that, I chose to overshoot the obvious way up to the top of the Stiperstones ridge in favour of a quieter approach. That meant that a father could ask me about a good way up there for kids with trainers. As I often find myself doing, the answer included perhaps vaguer directions than I might have liked to give. The way that I was going might have been one suggestion, but I directed them to where I had deliberately overshot. In any case, I was not seeking company and my line may have been too muddy for them anyway. Not everyone goes out in the countryside equipped for what they can meet; there was a car park and visitor centre not far away, which explains the encounter we had.
My way towards Manstone Rock was the quieter one, and I relished both that and the well sunlit views that going that way offered. In time, I was to join the main track, which was surfaced in a better way for trainer travel, so my instincts had been the rights for that family who I met earlier. The surface may have uneven, but it was not muddy like what I had traipsed. These rocky outcrops probably fascinate kids anyway, since many would clamber onto them. That certainly was what was happening to one concerned mother who was having her patience tested by her boisterous boys around the trig point on Manstone Rock. Quite why Ordnance Survey surveyors placed the trig point upon such a difficult to reach site is beyond me. What is equally beyond my understanding is how they got their heavy equipment onto the thing afterwards. The sighting of these things can amaze.
My own desire was to get back a sense of grater calm. Beyond the Devil's Chair, that really proved to be the case, and I relished this in the late evening sunshine. However, I did not get it all to myself on the way to Snailbeach. Still, I managed to get myself as much solitude as I could by veering away from my preferred route, and the final descent was a steep one.
My heart sinks a little whenever I see a large rambling group out on perambulations. They take up a lot of space if anyone needs to pass them, and I wonder just how present one can be in a scenic spot when chatting with others, as they often do. It also prompts the following question in my mind: can groups like these just get too big to be in the countryside? We are social animals, though, so I can see the attraction this holds for many, and they are often friendly to more solitary creatures like me.
Once I reached Snailbeach, I saw the minibus that was awaiting them, for this was an organised outing. They reached it while I was awaiting my bus to Shrewsbury, and one said to me that they thought I knew my way down. In reality, I only was finding my way on the go, as it is with so many things in life. They left before I did, and I then wondered if my bus would show up, or if I would need to consider later alternatives, possibly from elsewhere. As I continued my vigil, rain arrived, but this was no dampener on my spirits given the day that I had enjoyed. The bus came too, and I started on my return home after a very satisfying outing.
Travel Arrangements
Train journey from Macclesfield to Church Stretton. Bus service 552 or 553 from Snailbeach to Shrewsbury, followed by a train journey from there to Macclesfield. Doing this walk on a Saturday, like I did, now needs a route reversal since later departures from Snailbeach have been removed from the timetable.
