Category: Wales
2024: A year of Celtic trails and French summits
31st December 2024 There once was a time when every year would get a retrospective review at the end, or not long afterwards. That has slipped for various reasons. However, this piece reinstates that for this year. Whatever happens in coming years cannot be known; we only know the present, and our recollections of the past are prone to the ravages of time, though some have better memories than others.
Highland Rambles to Start a Year
For me, this year began in Aviemore after the preceding disruption of storm Gerrit. New Year's Day was spent hiking around Rothiemurchus, with many wishing Happy New Year to each other. Lochan Mor, Loch an Eilein, Loch Gamhna and Loch Morlich all featured as landmarks on an amble on a crisp sunny winter's day. The volume of traffic along the road between Aviemore and Glen More was more akin to a motorway than a thoroughfare in a protected part of Scotland. With no public transport in operation, private transport possibly was the only realistic option for getting around.
The next day saw a return to Inverness for a hike from there to the shores of Loch Ness at Lochend. The paths by the River Ness and the Caledonian Canal were pleasant, though sunshine was scarce. The same could not be said for walking along the side of the A82, yet seeds were sown for future rambles that use Inverness as a base. Walking back from Drumnadrochit to Inverness along part of the Great Glen Way is among these, as is a circuit through the hills near Achnashellach train station in Scotland's more remote northwest. South Loch Ness Trail is another option that appeals. If other things had not intruded, these ideas may have been used sometime this year. For now, they remain in my catalogue of ideas for the future.
February's Fresh Start In Cork
The rest of January was occupied with many handover sessions in advance of a work contract coming to an end. This was a process that took its toll on me, setting some of the scene for the start of February. Nevertheless, property hunting took me to Cork for around two weeks. That was complemented by strolls along the disjointed sections of the Cork Harbour Greenway along with some pottering around Crosshaven, Fota and Cobh. A day trip to Killarney saw me reprise part of a route taken during the first full day of my stay there in August 2022; the initial idea was to head to Glengarriff, but the bus ticket machine would not sell me a day return ticket and I took that as a sign that it might be best left for another time. The deviation around by Torc Waterfall made for a late return to Killarney bus station; it was as well that later services operate on a Sunday, or my incaution might have left me marooned. There was a circuit of Muckross Lake too, which might have made the day a little too long in hindsight.
March in Aberystwyth: Coastal Walks and Windy Summits
In March, there was a return visit to Aberystwyth to follow up on a stay there the preceding September. A good weather window was what prompted me, and I got in some coastal walking on the first full day there. The main stretch was part of the Wales Coast Path that returned me to Aberystwyth from Borth after some pottering around Aberystwyth. Pumlumon Fawr got an ascent on a bracing day with a cold gusty wind reducing the time spent on the said summit. It might have been better not to have gone up there at all, but for my stubbornness. Lower level hiking was less affected by the wind and I wandered about by Bwlch Nant-yr-Arian before continuing to Ponterwyd. The tale of my day made a bus driver laugh when I said it was the wind that was the greatest challenge.
April Escapades: From Stirling to the Tops and Lochs of Central Scotland
Eastertide house decluttering and a run of uninspiring weather meant that it was the end of April when I next got out and about. This time, I based myself in Stirling. The preceding November saw me making an impromptu incursion into the Ochil Hills by following a track while wearing trail shoes. That act eliminated those eminences from my attention, so it was the need to experience a hike around Ben Ledi with more sunshine that became the main motivation. Before that, I enjoyed a delightful stroll around Stirling in the pleasant evening sunshine, even if it wearied me a bit for the main ascent.
The route to Ben Ledi went along that of the Rob Roy Way from Callander before deviating onto a forestry track that carried me around Boschastle Hill. That saved some steep ascent at the beginning, only for more height gain to try my legs on the way up to the summit. With sunlit views like I never saw them before, there were ample excuses for rest breaks to ease the burden. Once over the summit, I descended below Bealach nan Crop into Stank Glen from where I reached the shore of Loch Lubnaig, where I loitered a while before dropping into a Forest Holidays shop for some refreshments. The way back to Callander from there was swifter than I had expected, allowing me to use an earlier bus for the return to Stirling.
The next day saw me back in Callander for what became a hike to Aberfoyle along the southern shore of Loch Venachar before a diversion to Brig o' Turk prompted by curiosity and Loch Achray. Concerns about making the last bus of the day and the growing heat persuaded me not to visit Loch Katrine, so I hotfooted the rest of the way on forestry tracks, only to find that my fears were unfounded. The initial plan had been to do a circuit of Loch Venachar until distances and the heat caused a change of mind. Very weary legs were rested in Aberfoyle before that bus appeared, and the stop also allowed a chance to imbibe some refreshments.
May: Revisiting the Trails around Aviemore, Rothiemurchus and Kingussie
The start of May was graced with a repeat visit to Aviemore. The main motivation might have been an out and back hike to Loch Eanaich after high water halted the errand the previous December. That was just as well since there still was a stream crossing without a bridge that got me wet feet and boots. This was the sort of thing that perhaps was best left for the last day of a stay instead of the first. Nevertheless, I got where I fancied going. Ronald Turnbull has published a route leading this way to Carn Ban Mor and other nearby hills. It does not look like a day hike to me unless you make use of a mountain bike. Backpacking might be the better approach after some strength training to cope with your load. The next day saw me reprise a hike from Kingussie to Aviemore with variations to the route. This included closer proximity to Glen Feshie and a more direct if muddier route from Moor of Feshie to Loch Gamhna. Otherwise, it was good to redo this with longer hours of daylight.
June: West Highland Retrospectives and French Forays
The West Highland Way got some repeat attention at the start of June during a stay in Fort William. First up was the section between Fort William and Kinlochleven after a deviation around by Cow Hill near the start. Though used by many more people on the day, it was great to revisit a trail that I had not walked for more than twenty years, even if it took a toll on me because of a rush to catch a bus at a reasonable hour. That was not how things worked out for me between Glen Coe and Bridge of Orchy. Though wintry showers peppered the day, there were periods of bright sunshine that may up for these and a shorter route with better public transport connections made for a more relaxing hike. All was settled gain, even if the numbers heading north made me wonder about overtourism. My recollection of passing the same way around twenty years before was that things were much quieter back then.
This also was a year with two trips to France. A passport bungle meant that I could not use a booked ferry trip, so I rearranged it for later. The stay in Paris still went ahead in May. Rennes and Versailles were the object of side trips during a getaway that featured mixed weather and extensive urban walking. The summer solstice was when I used the ferry booking between Portsmouth and Saint-Malo, where there was the only episode of mixed weather. Otherwise, there was no shortage of sunshine in Paris or Versailles, even if restrictions were becoming more intrusive ahead of the Olympic and Paralympic Games. Grenoble became my main base, allowing plenty of hiking to happen. The routes took me to Mont Rachais, the Desert de Jean-Jacques Rousseau, Charvet, Sassenage, Mont-Saint-Martin and along the River Isère. While tongue-tied by my grasp of French at times, much was to be enjoyed, too. All was accomplished by surface travel, which was even better in these days of climate crisis. That may set up some excursions in times to come.
A Southern Irish Summer: Traversing Hilltops, Coastlines and Peninsulas
Somewhat like 2010, 2024 feels like a year of two halves after I acquired a new Irish base in Cork city. Thus, July and August saw a lot of Irish traipsing in between attending to other matters that have been in the offing for a while. Killarney saw two back to back day trips, the second saw me reach the summit of Mangerton after being stymied by going around by Knockreer and Ross Castle on the first day. A full day was spent traversing the Ballyhoura Mountains from Ballyhea to Seefin and back. The three Atlantic peninsulas of West Cork, Mizen, Beara and Sheep's Head, all got visits. The first involved hiking from Schull to Ballydehob and the last allowed me to go from Kilcrohane to Ahakista via the top of Seefin (the name pops up in a few places on this evidence). Glengarriff's Nature Trails were a lure to the Beara Peninsula early in August, only to be followed with possibly the soggiest and wettest hike in my life along the Beara Way from Adrigole to Glengarriff. Other summertime forays took me to Cashel and Cahir, as well as the Knockmealdown Mountain foothills on a saunter from Cappoquin to Lismore.
A Subsequent Lull
The summer wanderings were followed by a lull in August. Fatigue and other distractions like testing out Generative AI curtailed things in the autumn before the weather fell into a rut uncongenial to hill wandering. There still was a loop around Great Island in Cork Harbour as well as more local forays to known spots until thing perked up more recently with visits to Blarney, Ballincollig and Kinsale.
Ideas for an Open Book
2025 remains an open book at this stage, though there are some ideas that are readily to hand. One is a sojourn in Inverness, while a transatlantic escapade cannot be ruled out either. Given recent political developments, Canada looks more likely than its southern neighbour. The need to use Virgin points may encourage me to go to Canada yet. Toronto could be a base for what surrounds it, and Galway could act in a similar fashion in Ireland. Business matters need added attention, so I do not have a free hand in all of this. Only time will tell what happens next.
In need of some tidal awareness
23rd September 2024 Recent Irish rambles have brought home to me an important lesson to which I hardly devoted much attention before. It may be because I have spent much of my life inland and that I am attracted to a variety of hill country. The subject pertains to tides.
It is true that I made my over and back from the tidal Cramond Island near Edinburgh without incident. That perhaps was because the tide tables were posted on signs nearby. Then, I could assess if such a crossing was feasible so as now to get marooned. That is one of the few, if not the only tidal island that I recall visiting.
Otherwise, risk averseness has its part to play. Worms Head near Rhossili on the Gower in Wales comes to mind. The sight of others did little to encourage me out there. Knowing that I was without important knowledge was enough to stop me needing the services of the Coastguard. No rescue is needed when the risk is not taken.
The same applied to a visit to Galway where I did make my way out and back from Illaunafamona, near Salthill, without getting stranded on there. However, the encroaching tide forced me to go through a caravan park to get back on the return route to Galway to catch a coach back to Cork. Leaving later would have been better but for having made an advance booking; the evening was brightening, so it would have been worthwhile. Still, I got to the Coach Station with minutes to spare. My trespassing nearly cost me that too, and landowners may not have been impressed with a stranding on an island that they owned if it were to happen. The caravan park owners did not intercept me either, yet it is not something that I plan to repeat.
A stroll around Crosshaven was nowhere as dramatic. However, the tide was in, which meant that the absence of a cliff path sent me on a circuit that I had not planned. Given the other delights that were encountered, I do not feel short-changed. There had been a walk along the Greenway from Carrigaline in good autumn sunshine, and all else was favourable until I had to alter my route. In fact, I had the sun at my back, a favourable position for photographic exploits.
My having acquired a new base in Cork means that I now am nearer the coast than I ever have been and for longer too. That means that I get to notice the coming and going of the tides more than I ever have. A walking route that goes along the shore of Lough Mahon assures that. The mudflats that low tide exposes attracts its share of bird life too, so a set of binoculars has its uses here.
The subject of tides also cropped up on a circuit of Cork Harbour's Great Island that started and ended in Cobh. A narrow road along the north side of the island was seeing some encroachment through the very drainage culverts that ought to drain it. There were no such issues around Marloag Point and any other place that I passed, yet I did not delay. The hour of day ensured that as much as the chances of getting wet feet.
The cumulative effect of these encounters with sections of coastline is that I need to add checks of tide times to weather, transport and other things. Recalling the speed of tides on the island of Jersey accentuates this. It is little wonder that the U.K.'s Met Office includes this kind of information with its coastal location forecasts. It builds out the picture, especially when seas are roughened by gales.
Last hurrahs
29th August 2024 These days, this time of year makes me wistful at the passing of summer. However, it was not always so. This also is the season when academic years start, so there are beginnings as well as endings. Even then, the decline in hours of daylight and dropping temperatures brought any attempts to hang onto a sense of summer to an unyielding halt.
Towards the end of my secondary schooling, the purchase of a new bicycle meant cycling it home. That was not only a sixteen-kilometre distance but a frustrating struggle against autumnal winds. That which was plausible in the summer months had become less easy away from them. There were a few more years of summertime cycling, building up distance with the passage of time, that not only met shortening evenings but also the commencing of studies again. That was broken when I moved to Edinburgh, meaning that my time in Ireland was much more limited.
With the end of my university years, the association of autumn with beginnings was broken. It all ended with a job search that preceded by a tour of the Scottish highlands and islands with my brother before a quick trip to Ireland. In truth, the continuity of a research degree throughout the year had faded the sense of autumnal beginnings anyway.
My career saw me move to England, where I had much more time for exploring than I ever did. Without the ebb and flow of academic life, it was all too tempting to try overlooking the seasons, especially when moving south took up so much of spring and summer. August was when the hills of Cheshire and Derbyshire still any prospects of exploring hill country by bike. Walking became the way forward. As the month ended, I made my first trip to Wales in mixed weather that was hinting that overlooking seasons was not an option.
In ensuing years, the range of experiences broadened. A few saw me returning to Edinburgh in August to note how autumnal the place could feel at that time of year. Academic pressures and lack of experience meant that I had been overlooking this. That even included a week of conference attendance in Aberdeen during my research degree. The sense was there yet not prioritised.
Sometimes, autumn can make amends for a less satisfying summer. Being soaked around Lorn and Lochaber during a week at the end of July was enough to send me north again. Numerous visits to the Lake District in August had not healed wounds that only a weekend visit to Lochaber at the end of August could do. The year after was wet for much of the time, and I moved house too. Thus, a muddy November hike from the Cat and Fiddle Inn to Rushton Spencer marked something of a beginning.
September is a month with its illusions too. There can be a lot of sun, so it is easy to think of endless summer. That certainly fitted a sunny weekend around Moffat, crowned by a stunning walk along the Southern Upland Way. The changing colours and closure of businesses at the end of the busy tourist season countermand this. The latter hit me while on a September visit to Gougane Barra with my parents. Still, autumn can offer its chances for partial continuity with local hikes through October, November and into December. There have been a few years of that too.
Seasons are not the only transitions that we meet in life. A change of employer once became a major career event for me, Before the turmoil that led to this, there were contrasting trips to Yorkshire, one in September and another in October. The first was to a sunny Wharfedale, while an often grey Ingleton became my lot for the second. After the changeover, my energy for walking trips was curtailed, yet there was an October stroll along the High Peak Trail and a November excursion to Church Stretton. Though work pressures grew after that, the wandering was much needed and happened more often than not. When even that was halted, local cycles and walks often provided release.
Family ageing, infirmity and bereavement took hold of a few years after that. Grieving continued through spring, beyond summer and into autumn. Nothing could stop an October hike from the Cat and Fiddle inn to Whaley Bridge, such were my needs at the time. The real end of August feel pervaded a weekend divided between Durham and York. This may have been the Summer Bank Holiday one in England, but it often just feels too late for it. As it happens, the same complaint can be levelled at the timing of the British Spring Bank Holiday weekend.
Feelings eased by the next autumn, though a weekend spent in mixed weather around Oban reflected a sense of political tumult that only got more intense in ensuing years. Eventually, a sense of release emerged to allow a memorable September Swiss escapade. Bern and Kleine Scheidegg were grey under autumn clouds, yet Geneva, Zermatt and Grindelwald continued the sunny theme. Inheritance matters lay ahead, but not before a November interlude around Warwick, Stratford-upon-Avon and Bath.
International travel was getting going for me, and dotted the year for a few weeks. An end-of-August trip to sunny Oslo and rainy Bergen bookended the summer the year after the Swiss trip. Inheritance matters were coming to a head to show that office work need not note the passing of seasons, unlike outdoor activities. They were to cause exhaustion, so a later autumn would see decompression at the start of a much-needed career break. That year, there was continuity of a sort from a week in Sweden in August to October day hikes in the Peak District and South Pennines.
Before the pandemic years, my freelancing faced an autumnal challenge that got addressed before the onset of restrictions. In September, there were visits to Oxford and Bath following a summer in British Columbia. The autumnal atmosphere of those, even if people were dressed in period costume around Bath for an event, reflected my mood at the time, for more things were ending than starting in that year.
The pandemic did nothing to halt hiking and, in 2020, even caused a resurgence of cycling. Getting outdoors then was much needed, resulting in a surprisingly rich year of day trips. That more or less ended at the end of September on a day that turned from sunny to grey as I walked from Hayfield to Chapel en le Frith. In the subsequent twelve months, things became less restricted, perhaps too quickly for my sensibilities. That made the discovery of Combs Moss near Buxton an uncrowded godsend during August and September that year. More were to be found when a new variant brought more restrictions around the end of the year.
Since then, the last few years have been about changing what I own. Some is being sold, and I now have a base in Cork that I can use. Manageability is what I am trying to improve now. More time has been spent in the outdoors as well, especially in Ireland. When it comes to the ending of summer, that does not feature so much, though. In the year before last, August was ended with a sunny ascent of Helvellyn followed by less satisfying trips to the Ochil Hills and Trossachs, extending activities into September.
Last year, a longstanding personal matter got attention and progress has felt rather miraculous. That started in August of last year and was got helped by numerous hill walks in Wales in August and September, a trip to Guernsey at the end of August, and a satisfying October encounter with the Ochil Hills from Stirling. While there was a sense of curtailment as the year wore on and other matters intruded, it still is remarkable to note what was happening then in any case.
This year has seen numerous walking trips in various places. Wales, Scotland, France and Ireland all provide the locations. Irish responsibilities continue to be reduced alongside these, and I am looking to progress other work activities as well. Autumn this year is about looking forward more than looking back during a period of letting go of things.
Autumn can feel quiet, yet it is often busy. Places can feel less thronged, giving a sense of new beginning that gets thwarted by the increasing sense of approaching winter. Even so, the working lives of many become more busy, as do places of learning. The latter can be filled with hubris that then is vanquished by academic pressures. This is an odd time of year, looking forward with anticipation, but also looking back with poignancy. Maybe, that is what transition brings. Nevertheless, spring is more to my liking and likely will remain thus.
Exploring north and mid Wales through multiple seasons
28th August 2024 This time last year, I was making plenty of visits to Wales. There was a matter in my life that needed attention, and the getaways were a big help with these. Shoehorned within them was a bank holiday weekend foray to Guernsey, but that is not the subject of this piece.
Looking at my interim synopses of trip reports that await writing, I notice that there have been more in the last few years than I have mentioned above. Even 2020 had one, though there was none in 2021. That got me wondering about a multi-season survey. Though one might have felt wintry, I still believe that it fits in spring. Thus, winter gets excluded here.
Most were in Eryri National Park, while some featured parts of the Welsh coastline and even the heart of Wales. Wales is of such a size that its coastline is not far away even when hills are being climbed. On weekend stays, most of those places where I overnighted were by the sea as well. Only Chester and Wrexham, which helped with outbound travel during industrial actions on the rail network, were the exceptions. Aberystwyth, Caernarfon, Llandudno and Porthmadog were the coastal bases.
The list of hills includes Y Garn (near the Ogwen Valley), Glyder Fawr, Glyder Fach, Carnedd Gwenllian, Gyrn Wigau, Cadair Idris, and Pumlumon Fawr. The latter was summited twice, once in damp and dank conditions and the second occasion involved the endurance of chilly, obstinate gusts on what otherwise was a brighter day. Even so, I have my fill of the area for the moment.
Carnedd Gwenllian also the subject of two approaches, the first was unsuccessful in that it was halted by blustery wet conditions and lack of time. Better weather and more time made it possible to reach that summit; it may have been cloud capped, but there was plenty of sunshine at other times. Gyrn Wigau was crossed on that second trip, on the way back to Bethesda, as it happened. Cadair Idris is best known to me, and I again reached its top, albeit on a hot sunny day. That made for better views than I ever had before, so I descended to Morfa Mawddach instead of Minffordd (my staring point) or Dolgellau.
Of the Ogwen Valley hills, Y Garn got its own day on a circuit from Nant Peris. The descent proved challenging and prevented me from catching an earlier bus as I might have hoped. Glyder Fach and Glyder Fawr went beforehand and together. Such was the challenge of their terrain that I abandoned designs on reaching Llanberis for a return to the Ogwen Valley. Both days were hot, one in May and the other in July. These were day trips without any overnight stay, unlike others that have been mentioned in this posting.
The Wales Coast path got well trodden in the middle of all this traipsing. The most recent was the section between Borth and Aberystwyth last March. Sunshine felt like it was being rationed, yet that took nothing away from the walking. The coastal scenery had its own drama anyway. No weather or seasonality can remove that, no matter what.
Aside from that, it was the North Wales coast that got my attention. Even in 2020, I reached Llandudno for a stroll around the Great Orme, the only coastline exposure that I got during that very challenging year that most probably wish to delete. Last autumn saw two repeat visits, both after hill climbing the day before. On the first of these, I went on top of the headline instead of going around it. For the second, I walked along the coast to Llandudno Junction train station, savouring what I could see with some relish. The first attempt at reaching Carnedd Gwenllian may have been unsuccessful, but the Wales Coast Path got me to Bangor, and with some sunny accompaniment at times too.
All in all, there was quite a range of weather encountered, from warm sunshine to persistent rain to chilling gusts of wind. Given that, it probably is worth recording which season was which for all of these. For spring, it was the second weekend around Aberystwyth and the day hike around Y Garn. The first of these feet more like winter and the second more like summer. Speaking of the latter, that was when the day circuit of Glyderau happened and when I tried reaching the top of Carnedd Gwenllian, the latter of these followed by coastal walking leading to Bangor and around Llandudno. Again, the first was typical of high summer and the latter giving a hint of approaching autumn, which is when the Irish Celtic seasons would place it. The rest belong to autumn anyway, which remains undeniable, even given the ambiguity there often is about seasonal timings.
Pondering past trends
22nd August 2024 Some years feature multiple visits to a single area, or a sign of a developing theme. Going back in time, 2001 was the year of the Peak District, while it was the turn of the Yorkshire Dales in 2002. 2003 then became a year for the Lake District.
Other places were visited too as I began my hill wandering journey in those years. After all, the first decade of the century saw ever deeper incursions into Scotland, while Wales did not get neglected either. The mention of Wales brings me to 2005, when I spent a good deal of time around Denbighshire and Gwynedd.
2007 was a year for a single theme: long-distance trails. Both the West Highland Way and the Gritstone were completed then using a section hiking approach. That has not been the end of long-distance trail walking for me, partly because it is difficult to avoid them if you want something more established than making your own way.
Some years have not offered any meaningful trend. 2004 was one of those, and not a year best remembered for its weather. House moving also limited movements. 2008 is remembered for recovering from a mental travail as much as its most dramatic foray: spending some time around Skye and the Western Isles. 2009 did get me to the Cairngorms, but only twice before career travails overtook me.
A new job limited things from 2010 before family bereavements then dominated things. After that, international travel took over for a while from 2015 onward. Even so, 2014 can be remembered for multiple visits to the Lake District, offering a much-needed respite from what was happening at the time.
A developing taste for overseas explorations was set back with the onset of the pandemic. Before that, destinations of a Scandinavian or Alpine feel were attracting my attention, and there was a first leisure trip to North America that took me to British Columbia. Local hill country across the Peak District then became a godsend in both 2020 and 2021, though I also got to Shropshire and the Llandudno during 2020.
2022 not only marked the start of my returning to travelling farther away from home, but it also became the first year with numerous incursions into Irish hill country. The moors around Marsden also got some of my attention, as did some Lakeland fells and Scottish hills, and Wales was not excluded either. Even so, the Irish excursions in the counties of Dublin, Limerick, Clare, Tipperary, Kerry and Cork were the big feature of the year. It was as if I were moving beyond the pandemic more in my native country than anywhere else.
The Irish explorations were fewer in 2023, while Wales got much of my attention, and there was a longer distance escapade to the San Francisco Bay Area. The Channel Islands became the subject of two visits too, with the first of these allowing a day excursion to Saint-Malo in France.
Thus far, 2024 has become another year with numerous Irish explorations. The counties of Cork, Kerry, Limerick and Waterford all featured. However, it also has been a year with numerous Scottish incursions, reaching the Trossachs, Strathspey and Lochaber. Other business has deflected explorations from Inverness that would take in more around Loch Ness, as well as getting a hike in from Achnasheen. Much like a mooted trip to the American Pacific Northwest, these will need to wait. Having unused ideas cannot be a source of criticism. France also featured on two itineraries that took in its capital city, Brittany and Grenoble. They may not end explorations of a country that I scarcely had probed, but some extra reflection and learning needs to precede such things.
