North Wales Pilgrims Way – Day 1

Oh, hi everyone, always a pleasure.

Our pal Lou is attempting to walk all 2,650 miles of the Pacific Crest Trail next April, she’s never done anything similar, so what better way for her to test her gear, physical capabilities and abstinence from makeup, showers, hair dryers and multiple outfit choices , than to join us on our 135 mile pilgrimage across the almost top of North Wales.

Also, arid southern Californian desert in spring and wet Welsh mountains in autumn, pretty similar really, right ?

The trail begins in Basingwerk Abbey in Holywell, the top east corner (ish) and moves West following old routes, footpaths, farmland, woodland, moorland, mountains and coastline to Bardsey island . Pilgrims went here drawn by the special peace at the edge of the island, with only the ocean and the total unknown before them.

The path meanders. Snake legs AKA ‘short cut’, is already finding alternates to the 10k detour into Bangor. The way hops from tiny stone churches, nestled in the hills and remote villages which provide shelter (or will they be locked ?) for pilgrims (and their poodles).

Naturally we will be discovering many a pub, tiny shops and tea room as part of our desire to fully embrace of the trail.

Big early thanks to Mr and Mrs Snake legs, who reside a mere stones throw from the start, who will collect our smelly selves from the end, who filled us with food and provided shelter before we struck out on the wild Welsh adventure.

They also tolerated a total living room take over while we provided Lou with a very emotional (for her) pack shakedown. I didn’t weigh the things we removed from her pack, but the mountain of ridiculousness would have sunk a submarine, further .

It’s suggested that Flat Eric the poodle, a dog well sized and capable of hiking, carries 10-20% of her body weight. Naturally as she is a sweet baby angel princess, she will be carrying less than 10% and relieved of even the 1.5kg she will be carrying at the slightest notification of her tiring. Perfect girl.

Day 1 Holywell to Tremeirchion

After a swift half an hour drive to the start, we waved goodbye to Mr Snake Legs and set off with confident happy strides into a beautiful chilly morning, before swiftly realising we’d bypassed the start, the abbey ruins, the visitors centre and most importantly, the toilets.

Having retraced our steps back to the start we parted with £2 for 2 pilgrims passports, in which we could collect stamps of accomplishment at various points along the way.

Striking out a second time, we followed forest trail past mill and mines, disused railways and farmland before breaking out atop sunny hills with sea views. We missed the first two passports stops. Worst £2 ever.

This is the first time we’ve had a previously known companion on a long distance walk and so far we’ve noticed only a couple of major differences, one being that it’s no longer appropriate to drop trou’ wherever and whenever you like. Though I’m confident that by the end of the trail it will on longer be seen as an issue.

The day was warm, the trail was varied and beautiful and before long we stopped for lunch. As usual the 12 miles I was so very sure we’d walked was only actually 7.

Stiles, mud and tricky navigation through wet crops were slowing us down somewhat but, we didn’t mind. Well, Lou minded a lot actually. She was determined to keep her leggings immaculate for the duration of the week long trail and, she has a gammy leg. Gammy, maybe that’s her trail name….

I didn’t have the heart to tell her she had a muddy bum after lunch.

Soon we came upon an animal rescue , the trail ran through it and lured you in with progressively desirable features, beginning with bins, then benches, then coffee, chocolate and little homemade Halloween bibs for dogs (yes we did ).

Now with a dog on a lead, poles, a map and coffee in hand we traipsed through rutted cow shit filled fields, thigh high wet beet and maize and I didn’t spill a drop.

Lou dropped back at one point and I turned and exclaimed “where’s Lou?” To which snakes responded “behind, right in my fart line”. This had me laughing for a good, good while.

Onwards now with ourhips and legs creaking a bit , through rolling farmland and progressively shittier, muddier and stile filled fields, we took a quick break for some vitamin I, sugar and blister plasters. Eric began to tire of the steep ascent and descent over the stiles and so her bag was immediately removed. We pushed on the last three miles to the pub, arriving by dark.

Along the way we were all repeatedly pointing out all the great camp spots we were walking past and would likely not find when we actually needed one. We toyed with not bothering with the pub and taking advantage of the spoils of flat spots, but decided beer was worth the risk. Besides, there was a church in Tremeirchion I had my eye on (I really want to sleep in a church)

Here at the warm and welcoming community run pub, we were met with pals Freedy, Emma and their brand new and very agreeable baby, Ellie. They live up the road and are great.

It was here also that I met Bob, my new best friend.

Once, Bob saw where the key to the church was hidden. Bob showed me this secret spot, and said there was no Sunday service tomorrow. After a sumptuous meal, wonderful company, a bilingual pub singalong and a few pints, we let ourselves into the church next door for a night in luxury.

I cannot recommend the Salusbury Arms enough, after being offered the lodgings at the church , we were also offered the pub lawn, we ate, drank and sang well and retreated just as the rain came.

A solitary candle was lit in the corner of the church , it was warm, carpeted and welcoming. What a lovely day!

17 miles on the day (though Lou is convinced it’s 21)