Bangor to Caernarfon – It’s OK To Be Me

Another cold night, but the heater in my room stayed on all night and I slept well and long, despite the Blades loysin. Best to concentrate on promotion to the Prem.

The light was lovely and from the quayside I could just see the narrow exit of the Menai Straights over to the left.

Further round the quay was the marina. They always look attractive.

There was a pub open, which was attached to the Premier Inn, serving breakfast and unlimited drinks (hot). I pigged out on cereal and full English.

I won’t lose weight this trip.

This poster attracted my attention. I’ve had or got the lot. It’s the worst thing about being me. If I was clear of all this bollocks I’d be a normal bloke. But you’re not alone, just turn on with me. You’re not alone, just turn on and be. You’re wonderful. Give me your hand. Thanks David.

The bus to Bangor arrived at 10.12, the number 5c. Single decker, blue with raised seating towards the rear.

It was noisy walking down the street to the Menai Bridge so I sang. This is my last singing post. I’m becoming even more self-indulgent, attention seeking and pretentious. Pretentious? Moi?

Can you see the starlight in my eyes? Pathetic old bastard. What was wrong with singing ISB? You’ve sold out! Judas!

However, I quite like the hairs sticking out of my nostrils. They make me look even more bedraggled and unkempt.

Then the walking took over. In just a few minutes I made it to the old Menai Bridge. I have a lot of memories of crossing this bridge and they’re all great!

The Coast Path then runs through Treborth Botanic Gardens. This lad is a Scot’s Pine. Extincted here in the Middle Ages and reintroduced four hundred years ago. Johnny Come Lately.

What about this Turkish Oak!

Then the Path dropped down out of the gardens towards the sea. I made decent time, without a rucksack, as the track wound to the newer Britannia Bridge.

I walked underneath it and dropped down a very frozen, dead-end path to get a good photo. And it was good. The building in the centre of the photo is on an island called Ynys Gorad Goch. No further info on it I’m afraid. Good photo though innit?

This is the rest of the Britannia, completed in 1978 and taking the enormous traffic strain off the old bridge.

I climbed back up the slippery, icy slope and rejoined the coast path as it pushed further west. A statue of Lord Nelson graced the Anglesey bank.

Then the path ran into another forest, which I followed for a mile or so.

Dropping down to the gravel bank at the side of the Straight, the village of Y Penhily showed to the west.

Beyond there was a long slog. I abandoned the Coast Path as it went inland, and I wanted to see if I could make it down to Caernarfon on the exposed tidal banks.

It was a three mile journey but it looked like I could.

So I kept on going and made it to a wonderful spot where, looking across the Straight in fading light, the view and colouring were great again.

Looking westward was lovely too. And in the corner of the Straight I spotted the first view of Caernarfon.

Another thirty minutes I was there. Watered. Fed. Bed. Yes it’s early but I’m an old lad.

But this old lad is marching landward into Snowdonia tomorrow to start a climbing trip. Can’t wait, can’t wait. I love walking on crisp snow and ice. Cheers dears.

Night night.