Following a recce for a Narberth U3a future Stroll and Photo at Llys-y- Fran, we took a diversion to Wiston castle. Even though not long enough for a walk, the castle and nearby church are historically interesting.
The castle was builtby an early Flemish settler with the unusual name of Wizo (in Latin) or Gwys (Welsh). Wizo was one of the powerful Norman lords who took control of southern Wales in the decades following the Norman Conquest. The settlement was called Wiston, which was an old Flemish/Saxon word for Wizo’s enclosure. And I am reliably informed, by someone who knows far more about these things than I do, that Wiston is pronounced Wizon,
Wiston is one of the best-preserved motte-and-bailey castles in Wales, (A bailey is an enclosed courtyard within a castle, typically surrounding a central mound (the motte), a small mound or hill which was fortified in the past).
The castle is first mentioned in documents in 1147 when it was attacked by the Welsh, and then again byHywel Sais, who was the son of The Lord Rhys who ruled this area of Wales, in1193. The castle was again attacked and destroyed in 1220 by Llywelyn ap Iorwerth (Llywelyn the Great).There is more information of the history of Wiston castle here:
There are forty-nine steps … I counted!
The Keep was a large fortified enclosure. This would originally be an early thirteenth century timber tower within a palisade. The present sixteen-sided stone shell keep was a replacement and would have risen another story with a parapet. The entrance was barred by a stout wooden door and the residential upper floor was reached by stone steps just inside the doorway.
A deep ditch surrounds the base of the mound, separating it from the bailey (the enclosed courtyard within a castle) to the south, and connecting with the moat of the outer bailey on the eastern and western sides. This would have contained essential buildings like stables, barracks, and a chapel – the fortified area where soldiers, servants, and livestock lived and where the day-to-day activities of the castle took place.
Impressive stone walls.Spot the lookout!
And, of course, who goes up … must then go down. Much easier!
The Church of St Mary Magdalene.
Wizo also founded the church nearby at the same time. Though altered by subsequent generations, the church is essentially a Norman building, entered by a very simple doorway made of large slabs of local red sandstone.An interesting church to visit at a later time, I think.
Over the last few weeks we have walked along the Pembrokeshire coast with the Pembrokeshire U3a and the National Trust …
And joined in with a couple of days seal spotting … from the clifftops, so at a distance, of course.
And watching the mothers with their pups was fascinating
Around the coast of West Wales, grey seals can be seen throughout the year. In the summer, around sunset, the seals begin to return to the beach hauling out their daily catch of fish. Mostly, at this time, they bob about in the water, waiting to come ashore to rest. Seals spend a lot of time at sea but come ashore to breed from August until early November, when parents and their pups can be spotted on beaches around Pembrokeshire.
On land they are cumbersome and slow, compared with their agility in the ocean.
Which gave The Photographer plenty of time to get his pictures!
Many thanks Pembrokeshire U3a and the National Trust for two brilliant days .
Fossil records indicate that the ancestors of modern seals first entered the ocean on the west coast, about 28–30 million years ago.
Seals see very well under water—better than they do in bright light above water. Their eyes are adapted with round lenses (like fish) and a large iris that fully opens underwater. On land the iris closes the pupil to a small pin point that lets the seal see clearly through the round lens. A seal’s eye is also adapted for low-light vision with a lining (similar to a cat’s eye) that reflects and amplifies the weak light at depth in the ocean.
A seal’s body stores enough fat in the blubber layer to allow the animal to go for extended periods of time without eating. In addition, most seals are opportunistic feeders and will consume a variety of fish, shellfish, and crustaceans. Seals do not eat on land.
Like all marine mammals, seals get all the water they need from their food. Their bodies are very efficient at removing and recycling water from their food. They avoid drinking sea water; if a seal drinks too much sea water it can become seriously sick. Arctic seals, which spend time on ice, may sometimes eat fresh water ice and snow.
NB: Seals are protected in the UK under various acts, including the Conservation of Seals Act 1970, which prohibits killing, injuring, or taking them except under specific circumstances. Both native species, the grey seal and common seal, are protected, along with any other seal species found in UK waters.
It’s a writing, The Archers on Radio Four, Sunday lunch, and a gardening day – the latter if the rain holds off. Oh, and a small mention of the cover reveal by Honno, of my next book, The Stranger in my House…. on Tuesday 30th July 2024.
The garden is looking quite good, even after a day and night of being drenched in Pembrokeshire rain.
Photos of Bosherston Lily Ponds, courtesy of Husband, on one of the few sunny days. Lovely now – but when the lilies are out, even more gorgeous.
Swans again – but from a safe distance!!
Must get on…
Hope you all have a lovely Sunday, wherever you are. x
Our one leisurely day: Bodnant Gardens, which nestles in the Snowdonian foothills of North Wales, near Conwy. On a hot and sunny day it took us seven hours to walk around and savour the horticultural delights of the gardens and admire the buildings.
Bodnant (Welsh for ‘dwelling by a stream’) was home to the Lloyd family from the reign of James I until the mid 1700s when it passed to the Forbes family. The parkland was designed into the style of an English landscape, and the earlier house was replaced by an Italianate mansion in 1792, courtesy of Colonel Forbes. On his death in 1820 the estate passed to William Hanmer of Bettisfield Park in Flintshire who extended the garden around the mansion house between 1828 and 1837. In 1874 the estate was bought by Henry Davis Pochin, Victorian industrialist, and his wife. There’s an interesting post on the people of Bodnant here.
2024 marks seventy-five years since Bodnant Garden was gifted to the National Trust by Henry McLaren, The 2nd Lord Aberconway.
Our first glimpse of the gardens was through the wonderful and reknowned Laburnum Arch, a fifty-five metre-long avenue of golden flowers. It was created in Victorian times by Henry Davis Pochin in 1880. He employed Edward Milner, apprentice to Joseph Paxton (landscape gardener, designer of hothouses, and the architect of the Crystal Palace for the Great Exhibition of 1851 in London), to help design the formal garden around Bodnant Hall, including the Laburnum Arch, based on pergola walkways of the 16th and 17th centuries. It is believed to be the longest and oldest in Britain.
Rhododendrons are wild shrubs native to South-East Asia. They were first introduced to Bodnant Garden around 1900, many grown from original seed collected on expeditions in central China, sponsored by Bodnant’s owner, Henry Duncan McLaren the second Lord Aberconway). The plants flourished,producing some of the largest shrubs in the western hemisphere. Then some were hybridised to create varieties that were more compact, more richly coloured,with a longer flowering season. This is Rhododendron ‘Elizabeth’ a compact plant with vibrant pink flowers – the most famous of all the Bodnant hybrids and one that is today found in many domestic gardens. The gardeners at Bodnant are always searching to identify ‘lost’ varieties and propagate those under threat to ensure the future of the collection for many more years to come.
Two of the terraces have ponds, which are home to water lilies and a variety of wildlife (we saw ducks).
The borders on each of the five terraces are planted with careful consideration of the surrounding environment and are in keeping with the year of their creation. They are absolutely wonderful.
We also saw a Harlequin ladybird. These are about the same size as native ladybirds. They range in colour and pattern, but some of the most common forms are black with red spots, red with black spots and orange with black spots.Harlequins have attracted negative publicity since they were introduced in Britain 2004, but in reality they are nothing to worry about. They are known to reproduce quickly, gather in large swarms and compete with native ladybirds for aphids. They have shown signs of cannibalism, consuming the larvae and eggs of other ladybirds. But disease and predators are bringing the population under control. Harlequins can also carry an STD ( What?!) called laboulbenia. It is a fungus that forms little scales on the wing cases, and sometimes white crust on some parts of the exoskeleton, which can be seen with the naked eye.The STD also infects native ladybirds – the harlequin is simply another host for the fungus to live on. (the good news is humans cannot be infected. Sigh of relief!!)
I love reflections in water. The river runs throughout the gardens. Above is the Waterfall Bridge, with its vertical torrent of water on one side, and the calm, reflective pool on the other. Home to wildlife including kingfishers, dippers, heron and ducks. (and tadpoles, lots of tadpoles).
The photographer outside The Poem, a poetically-named mausoleum, built by Henry Davis Pochin. Located in an area of the Shrub Borders within the garden, The Poem is the McLaren family mausoleum. It sits on an outcrop of rock at the end of the valley known as the Dell.
The building below is the known as the Pin Mill. Originally built in 1730 as a gazebo at Woodchester, Gloucestershire, and later used as a pin mill and later still as a tannery, the building was moved to Bodnant gardens and reconstructed in 1938/9 as a pavilion at the south end of the canal terrace. The coat of arms on the building is of the family Surman or Shurmer whose connection with the building is a mystery.(One to solve sometime in the future)
The 2020 Sky Original adaptation of The Secret Garden, based on the classic 1910 novel by Frances Hodgson Burnettwas, was partly filmed in Bodnant Garden. The canopy of the cascading yellow flowers of the Laburnum Arch, the gnarled, fantasy-like woods and Italianate follies, all added to the sense of magic in the film.After a day walking around this glorious place, we could understand why Bodnant Gardens was chosen. It truly is one of, if not the best, National Trust gardens we’ve explored.
“A lovely evening walk,” said the photographer. “With spectacular views.”
It was that last sentence that should have warned me before we set off, I thought as I climbed over the stile and looked upwards.
He’s such a clever clogs: climbing the stile one- handed and taking a video. Hmph!!
A little information here: Pen y Gaer is a mountain summit in the Snowdonia – Beddgelert to Conwy region in the county of Conwy, Wales. It’s the location of a Bronze Age and Iron Age hillfort near the village of Llanbedr-y-Cennin. It’s a natural defensive site. There is a long history of occupation.
There are two Bronze Age cairns on the north-west slope, and extensive prehistoric and later field systems, nearby. The remains seen today are mostly of Iron Age origin, but further earthworks, probably of medieval origin, lie on the south-eastern slopes.
The summit can be identified by one of the large cairns.
Pen y Gaer is three hundred and eighty-five metres high with a prominence of thirty-six metres. (My legs and feet can confirm this!)
The photographer was right though, the views are spectacular.
There’s a broad bank of stones about two metres in width, with a partial kerb of large, irregularly placed boulders before getting to the summit; these are the remains of two defence walls, as well as the outlines of a chevaux-de-frise (A defence, usually a timber or an iron barrel covered with projecting spikes and often strung with barbs of glass).
There are two stone circles. Archaeological evidence indicates that in addition to being used as places of burial, the purpose of stone circles was probably connected to agricultural events, such as the summer solstice.
And, of course, sheep – which moved a lot quicker that we did.
The sun was setting, a mist was creeping in. We were (as far as I was concerned) on top of a mountain. At this point there was a discussion: we could carry on having an adventure and take a track (over a stile) to fields and marshland, and meander until we saw buildings, which could or could possibly not be the cottage we were staying in. Or we could take the windy, steep lane that would definitly lead to the cottage where we were staying.
Whilst someone couldn’t resist one last photo … I staggered sauntered past, with that glass of wine in mind, and carried on.
“A lovely evening walk,” said the photographer, gazing admiringly at photographs on the screen of his camera. “And brilliant scenary.”
I have to admit I agreed, as I soaked my feet in a bowl of cool water. Though next time, I decided, I would check out the mileage… and the ascent … of further ‘walks’.
Our first walk: an easy five mile circular walk. We thought…
We followed a footpath alongside a stream and through a field covered in glorious wildflowers, including one that we later discovered was called the Deptford pink which is nationally rare. I took a photo of the flower: it had a long and deep pink petals with pale spots and ragged edges. Unfortunately, later (not having the expertise of the photgrapher), I saw that I’d had my mobile phone turned the wrong way round and had an image of a red, sweaty face … mine (well it was a hot day).
So here is a photo of the Deptford pink courtesy of The Species Recovery Trust.Apparently the plant has been used in traditional medicine for various purposes, such as treating digestive ailments and as a diuretic.
This area is called Coed y Felin and includeds an ancient oak/ash woodland planted with sycamore, beech and sweet chestnut.
Pathways criss-cross this ancient woodland site, leaving clues to its long-held links with the local population. Its timber has been used to support local mining villages for centuries. But Llanrwst has also long been known as a market town with a history of a whole range of industries over the centuries, one of which is a thriving woollen industry. Apparently it’s historically recorded that in the Middle Ages the price for wool at Llanrwst market set the price for wool throughout England and Wales in that period.The photographs below are the ruins of a woollen mill, Felin Uchaf.
The directions told us to zig zag up a steep lane.
And then continue for about one and a half mile along a lane.Or rather, up a very steep lane!
And this is where the five mile circular walk became … a little longer. The signs disappeared. And there were four turn-offs to choose from. So, three times, we wandered up this lane, (which I swear was at least half a mile long from bottom to top) and then down and then up again.
Until I stopped for breath and the photographer declared joyfully, ‘There’s a lovely view from up here.’
After that I believe the person who wrote the directionsbecame bored, jotted down a few notes about going through fields, and went home. And we more or less followed our noses. Or, should I say, because anyone who knows me knows I have no sense of direction whatsoever, I followed the photographer (who, true to form, was really only looking for “great shots”)
We meandered through fields along vague paths, which I was sure were sheep trails … see the evidencebelow?
And note … a stile! After last year’s walks in the Yorkshire Dales here and here, the photographer promised no stiles this time. And yet, on the very first walk – a stile.
It was quite a quiet walk back to the start after that…
PS: The following is an interesting article about Y Pont Fawr – the bridge in Llanrwst that, on our way to the cottage we were staying at, we tried to cross three times before being successful. Because of the high crown of the bridge it’s impossible to see if there’s another vehicle coming the opposite way … until it’s almost too late.
As this piece says further down: “The bridge is too narrow for vehicles to pass on it, and its hump limits forward visibility. This explains the local nickname Pont y Rhegi – “bridge of swearing”.” I’m not saying who added to this nickname, but the photographer refused my request to stop to take a photograph of the bridge.
Pont Fawr, Llanrwst
A ford crossed the river Conwy in this vicinity long before it was bridged. The original bridge was declared unsafe in 1626 and preparations began for its replacement, funded by the people of Caernarfonshire (west of the river) and Denbighshire (east of the river). In 1634 four Lancashire stonemasons were contracted to build the new bridge. The year 1636 and the royal coat of arms are shown on a plaque on the upstream side of the bridge, which is known as Pont Fawr (“large bridge”).
The workmen who built the bridge inserted the keystones for the central arch upside down. This was not discovered until the opening day, when the arch collapsed! The central arch rises to c.18 metres above the water.
The renowned architect Inigo Jones was professionally associated with the wealthy Wynn family of Llanrwst, and legend has it that he designed Pont Fawr. The pictures of the bridge and Inigo Jones (courtesy of The National Library Wales) were used to illustrate Thomas Pennant’s books about his travels in Wales in the 1770s.
Pennant wrote that two of the arches were extremely beautiful, marking “the hand of the architect”, but the third was inferior, having been rebuilt in 1703. Inigo had changed Ynyr, his real Christian name, to Inigo or Ignatius when he went to Italy, according to Pennant.
The bridge features full-height cutwaters (stonework shaped like a ship’s bow). The river is the outlet for rainwater and meltwater from across a large area of Snowdonia including Dyffryn Mymbyr (around Capel Curig), one of the wettest places in Britain. Since the western arch collapsed in 1702 and was rebuilt, the bridge has stood the test of countless floods and the advent of motorised lorries and buses.
The bridge is too narrow for vehicles to pass on it, and its hump limits forward visibility. This explains the local nickname Pont y Rhegi – “bridge of swearing”.
William Peers may have uttered an expletive on a dark night in 1907 when the traction engine he was driving crashed through the wall at the Llanrwst end of the bridge. After crossing the river, he had misjudged the position of the main road. The stoker and two navvies (engaged in building Dolgarrog aluminium works) jumped clear. Mr Peers fell about three metres onto the riverbank. The engine was said to have made a complete rotation in mid air before hitting the riverbed about six metres below the road.
Llyn y Fan Fach is a glacial lake in the Brecon Beacons situated beneath Picws Du mountain, the second highest peak of the Carmarthen Fans in the Carmarthenshire section of the Black Mountain in the west of the Brecon Beacons. (The name Brecon Beacons has recently reverted to its old Welsh name, Bannau Brycheiniog, which means “the peaks of Brychan’s kingdom”)
For anyone interested Brychan Brycheiniog was a legendary 5th-century king of Brycheiniog (Brecknockshire, alternatively Breconshire in Mid Wales.
Brychan depicted in a window of the church in Brecon, Wales.
There is one thing I want to say before we go any further with this post.
Never believe the stats!
Distance: 9.2 miles (14.8km) circuit (Let’s just say Circuitous! Or, if you’re really wanting to be pedantic – like a dog’s hind leg… or two!) Elevation gain: 720m (Gain is the right word. The exhilaration of getting anywhere near that height makes one feel as if one has reached the top of the world. If you can get enough breath to get that far!) Difficulty:Moderate (if you can call the initial mile of a one in ten ratio upwards on a stony, gravelly track, followed by steeper narrow paths – Moderate.
The Llyn y Fan Fach car park near is reached by a winding single track road (with the added bonus of few signposts in an area that the SAT NAV doesn’t recognise – we went in a complete circle at one point) and is remote with no facilities. At all (Am I selling it to you yet? Hmm? Well… I will… later. Honest.).
All the previous being said, we had a wonderful day’s walk. Hike… I should have said hike, here(Or even … climb!)
Actually, when we arrived there was a group of young people from London who were walking the area as part as their Duke of Edinburgh Award. Very chatty – when they stopped to get their breath – which was as often as us. So I didn’t feel that decrepit!
And, of course, we had a picnic sitting by Lyn y Fan Fach, a beautiful lake surrounded by magnificent craggy mountain peaks. Sheltered by a wall, with the sun warm on our backs, we watched the grass swaying under the clear water, the surface a glistening reflection of the sky. The only sounds were the rustling of the wind, the cries of the skylarks, and, in the distance, the faint voices of people walking along the ridges of the Picws Du mountain
Which gave the photographer a chance to peruse the area.
Llyn y Fan Fach is renowned for Welsh Folklore. One folklore legendis the myth of ‘The lady of the lake’. In the folktale, a young farmer of the 13th century spotted the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen emerge from the lake, she was a princess from the kingdom of fairies. He courted the fairy princess by baking her bread and after three attempts he succeeded in winning her hand in marriage on the condition that if he hit her three times she would leave him. He complied easily because she was so beautiful and they were happy for years bringing up a family at his farm near Myddfai, with her magic dowry of farm animals. In time the inevitable happened he hit his wife (reported as apparently playfully!?) and she disappeared back into the lake taking her prized animals with her, leaving the farmer with her sons. The sons once grown became known as the “Physicians of Myddfai” who became physicians to the English royal court..
Further to the east, beneath the peak of Fan Brycheiniog, there is another larger lake called Llyn y Fan Fawr. These lakes and peaks can be visited through a combination of mountain walks. We studied the climb to the right. A very steep climb. And decided to take the easier routeto the left.Easier for some – see below – the photographer in the distance, eager to get more photo opportunities.
It was so clear we could the rise and fall of the land for miles, it was stunning.
The path often disappeared under the mounds of long tough tussock grass and patches of boggy water. Though awe inspiring it felt very isolated: a few people far above us on the ridges of Fan Brycheiniog, a man striding, then sitting down, in the distance, a group of young men studying compasses and maps.We stopped – often – when skylarks rose and fluttered in front of us, desperate to take us away from their nests in the undergrowth. The wind came in strong cold bursts, and after we’d walked another mile, we knew, however disappointing it was, that we should turn back; not try to reach the other lake, Llyn y Fan Fawr, beneath the peak of Fan Brycheiniog, The speed we were going, we would chance being there after dark. Perhaps we shouldn’t have lingered so long at the first lake.Or set out earlier in the day. Or not got lost.
So, after a couple of photo shots, we made our way back across the land and down the track to the car. The Duke of Edinburgh students were still somewhere on the ridge. Knowing how they had dreaded the climb I didn’t envy them. And yet, not having achieved what we set out to do…
Still, a wonderful day in all.
Until the next time we attempt this walk …. or not.
When I was a child my mother took me every Saturday to the small library in our village. I was allowed six books – usually all read by the Wednesday (I was one of those kids who read by torchlight under the bedclothes – and got away with it for years!) I would then wait, not always patiently, until the weekend, when we would go again. I think it was a great relief to both my mother and myself when I was at last allowed to walk to the library by myself.
By the way…In the very olden days libraries were named from the Latin “liber”, meaning “book.” In Greek and the Romance languages, the corresponding term is “bibliotheca”. Or, if you want to go with the medieval version “Calque of Old English bōchord (‘library, collection of books’), equivalent to book + hoard.”
Just thought you might want to know that.
Anyway, when I was a child – libraries were just… libraries. The place one went to to borrow books. For free!!
Image courtesy of Pixabay
Today, libraries are still one of the few free services left. Libraries are used for many different reasons; they contain not only books. magazines, newspapers, manuscripts, but also CDs, DVDs, e-books, audiobooks etc. They connect us to information.And, important in these days, they are also community hubs where authors (if they’re lucky) can go to give talks, hold workshops. It’s where people can connect with other people. They are safe havens.
Reading for pleasure, is one of the most important things one can do, so what we need to make sure of is that future generations have the opportunity to do just that. Books represent the chance for us not only to enjoy the work of so many brilliant writers, but to also to grow, to change, to see life from other points of view. We will only ever see life through our own perspective … unless we read.
In our area, the Pembrokeshire County Council has approved its budget for 2023-24. We will have a Council Tax rise of 7.5%. It would be wonderful if the value of libraries and librarians were understood; if those in authority – those with access to their council budgets – acknowledged this importance for every generation. If enough funding were to ploughed into libraries to preserve them.
Image courtesy of Pixabay
Each month on the Libraries Wales website, they focus on introducing an author based in or writing about Wales. I am thrilled to be the author for April 2023.And I am more than happy, alongside other friends who are also writers, to talk about the value of books and the enjoyment of reading.Just give us the chance!!
I’d no intention of getting lost – but there again, I never do. It just happens. Usually I have a husband (not a random husband, the one I’ve had for some years) to point me in the right direction. He’s used to me saying ” how far away are we from where we were?”, but this time I was on my own. Well, me and daughter’s dog, Benji.
Looking non too happy. (the reason will become apparent later)
Radyr Woods is around fourteen acres of woodland, with a network of footpaths, boardwalks, and steps throughout the wood.
There is easy access to a mixed woodland and include a local nature reserve (Hermit Wood), with a canal, streams, ponds, springs, grass and heath land.
And ducks.
Look carefully… there is a duck, hiding on a mix of branches… honest!
And another… swimming this time.
And there are interesting panels explaining the intriguing history of the area...
Apparently there are the remains of a late-Prehistoric burnt mound where hot stones would have been immersed in water until it boiled and the burnt and broken stones or pot boilers formed the mound. Although it’s not known what the mound was used for (one could guess rituals – but I’ll go no further with that idea) The mound wasn’t discovered until 1911, but it is evidence that the site was inhabited centuries ago. There are also rumours that a 10th century holy well existed on the site In medieval times Radyr Woods formed a part of the walled deer park of Radyr Court, the historic home of the Mathew family.
The area was farmed and quarried up to the mid 20th century. Conglomerate stone from the Radyr Quarry was used in the construction of both Llandaff Cathedral and Cardiff Castle.
There were quite a few other dog walkers to pass pleasantries with and allowing the dogs to sniff one another’s bottoms socialise. Then I met a man walking his dog, and his ferret
He offered to show me how the ferret walked on the lead. But I had seen him walking towards us for some time. And Benji was showing rather too much interest in the proceedings. I thought it safer for the man to hold said ferret up high-ish. Still a bit too close to Benji, I thought. His dog just looked bored.
I walked on, not noticing which paths I took. Until I realised I didn’t know where I was, and how to find my way back.
When one path seemed to run out and I sank into the mud I thought I’d better turn back. After wandering aimlessly for ten minutesI met a young woman I’d spoken to earlier and when she realised how clueless I was, she took pity on me and, with the aid of Google maps (“you haven’t got Google maps?!”, looking askance at me), walked back with me (quite a long way) to where I eventually recognised a path.
Quite fortuitous meeting her, actually. She belongs to a reading group and I’ll be going to talk with them sometime soon.
As for the sulky looking Benji at the start of this adventure – covered in mud when we eventually arrived back at the house, he needed a bath. And wasn’t impressed.
And then wonderful views overlooking Ramsey Island
Just to prove I was there!!
And look who we saw! (from a great distance)
Seal pups and their mums
So… who was St Justinian?
Justinian was born in Brittany in the 6th century. At some point in his life, he made his way to Wales, where he settled on Ramsey Island.
Justinian soon became close friends with St David, the patron saint of Wales, and visited him often in the monastery where the cathedral now stands.
He was less impressed however by the lax behaviour of some of the monks and decided to isolate himself on Ramsey island. According to legend, he took an axe and chopped up the land bridge that linked the island and the mainland. As he worked, the axe became blunter and the lumps of rock remaining became larger and larger. They are still visible today in Ramsey Sound, where the waters foam over them at high tide. Followers joined him on the island but his actions didn’t go down well with everyone though. They soon turned them against him and they beheaded him!
To the astonishment of his killers,he picked up his head and walked across the sea to the mainland, and where he set his head down, another spring of water issued forth. This is the one enclosed today by a stone canopy.
A spring of water gushed up from the ground where his head first fell and this became the famous healing well.
Justinian was buried where the chapel now stands. Within its walls are some stone footings, which may mark his original gravesite. His body was removed to the cathedral, probably at some time before the end of the 15th century.
During the early medieval period, two chapels were built on Ramsey. One was dedicated to St Tyfanog; the other to St Justinian. There is no trace of either building today, though their sites are known.
Judith Barrow 