Tag Archives: #walking

Crossing off the Bucket List: Part Two @SkomerIsland #walks #photographs #birds #plantlife #Memories

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At long last! After living in Pembrokeshire for the last forty-six years and despite walking many miles of the Pembrokeshire coast, and meandrering around a lot of the Welsh countryside discovering wonderful places, lakes, waterfalls … scenary, we hadn’t been on Skomer island. This week we finally managed to go. And it was a glorious day’s adventure.

Together with the thirty other people we had been on the boat with, we climbed the steps and slopes from North Haven beach to the Information and Welcome Point, passing the ruins of one of the lime kilns on the island, now used as a shelter.

Following the short introductory talk by one of the National Trust volunteers on the numerous species of birds on the island, and advice on which paths to take, according to what we were most looking forward to seeing, we set off. Surprisingly it soon seemed that we were on our own as we began our walk of the south section of the island.

During the more prosperous farming days of the nineteenth century lime was important on the island, both as mortar for the buildings and to spread on the land as fertilizer. Limestone and coal would have been imported from the mainland, landed on the beach at North Haven and moved to the kilns to be heated.

In search of the second of the lime kiln ruins, which is beyond the Harold Stone we took a diversion.

The Harold Stone has no cutting or tool marks, so seems to be mostly unshaped by man, and apparently smoothed by decades of cattle and other animals rubbing against it. As with many standing stones there are various ideas as to its function: the site of an ancient burial ground, a ritual or lookout area of an Iron Age settlement, (there are a number of Iron Age settlements around the Island, each one slightly different),or a marker for boats to approach North Haven.

We were impressed by the care that is taken by the National Trust volunteers in preserving numerous areas of paths and grassland. At one point we saw an outline of a figure, dark against the bright sunshine, carrying an enormous scythe. As she passed us, she laughed and said she felt like the Grim Reaper. Walking on we saw the area she’d cleared and roped off to allow a patch of ground to recover.

We walked on...

We couldn’t find out what the small ‘monument ‘ is on top of this rock formation.

True to form we didn’t follow our intended circuit and meandered along paths, and retraced our steps in rather a haphazard fashion, (although the Photographer will dispute this and declare our route to be organised according to the circuit he planned). However true his statement was, I must admit we did pass numerous impressive limestone outcrops covered in lichen, and vast expanses of ferns, heather, gorse and wild flowers.

And we did see the majority of Skomer by the end of our time there.

After our short respite at the farmhouse we moved on to Skomer Head. The rocky headland was covered with fading pink Thrift (and evidence of the rabbits). It’s an impressive view from there; we could see Skokholm, which is a sandstone island, and, less clear but still visible, the island of Grassholm. I remembered that. many years ago, we took a trip on the Waverley (the last seagoing paddle steamer) and passed Grassholm. It’s the third largest Gannet colony in the world, and the island is covered in white. I’ll leave that last statement to your imagination!

There are the remains of an Iron Age boundary wall running parallel to more modern boundary walls from Skomer Head. The modern one is close to the path and the remaining stones of the prehistoric one on the nearby rock ridge above.

We crossed Wick Stream; a wetland area with small streams that are apparently connected by six dams. We couldn’t see them, though it was interesting to be told by one of the National Trust volunteers that they could be part of the Iron Age walls but they might also be of later origin. Their purpose is not known ,although it’s most likely that they were for water conservation, creating ponds for storage of water and watering stock. The paths along the way were protected by boardwalks, but mostly were rough and rocky on our way to The Wick.

The Wick was formed by geological fault activity and basaltic lava flows. It’s a magnificent cliff face, rocky on one side, steep slopes opposite, and filled with the sound of the breeze and the waves. We saw Fulmars and Great Black-backed Gulls swooping and riding the air currants. It was quite nerve-wracking to peer over the edge from the safety of the ledge that appeared to be especially placed there for that purpose (I could be wrong, but it was what most people were using it for – but as the area was cordoned off to protect the puffins to cross the space to reach their burrows – otherwise the gulls would predate them – the ledge was useful)

The Photographer! Just to prove he took the photos and that it was really hot, sunny weather.

We were running out of time so began to make our way back to North Haven. The path was steep and even more rocky in places but the views were still imposing.

Reluctant though we were to leave Skomer, we arrived back in good time for our departure slot for Dale Princess to take us back to the mainland with many photographs and great memories.

A short history of Skomer Island:

Around thirty-seven thousand years ago, Skomer would have been part of the mainland, only being cut off, following rising sea level, by the end of the last Ice Age around twelve thousand years ago

There is evidence of untouched remains of huts, fields and cairns that appear to prove that between five and twelve thousand years ago there was an Iron Age settlement of a small farming community on Skomer. Near the Garland Stone, a pyramidal (shaped like a pyramid), just off the northern tip of the island, there is a short circular detour off the main path across a ridge where a group of nine small cairns have been identified. This is probably a prehistoric cemetery. In North Valley, looking towards North Pond when conditions are suitable the remains of a number of circular Iron Age huts in pairs can be seen. This is the most complete and untouched remains of this period in the whole of Europe.

But then, except for some evidence of Medieval buildings on the island there is no clear record of any habitation until around the thirteenth century.

Farm Complex – I researched for a more detailed history of the farmhouse described in Part One, which may be of interest to some:

The farm was lived in by various tenants and owners of the island:

Lord Kensington bought the island in 1897 and used it mainly as part of his sporting estate. A J  Neale, a trawler owner from Cardiff, leased the Island in 1905 with the aim of protecting the wildlife, but had to relinquish the lease later and then it was bought by a Mr Sturt, who stayed on the island with his family. His daughter eventually married a local man Reuben Codd.  The Codd family farmed the Island until the outbreak of the Second World War in 1939. Afterwards the Island became a Field Study Centre for a year until 1946, run by the West Wales Field Society, and visitors stayed in the house. In 1950 the Codds left the Island. Then, in 1954, the roof of the old farmhouse was severely damaged during a major storm – it was left a ruin. The Skomer Island Heritage Project enabled the old farmhouse was reinstated and took in  visitors  again. The old barn, once a two-story barn for storage and animals, is now used for visitor and research accommodation.

Where We Walked: Copper Mine @Cwm Bychan valley in @Snowdoni National Park near @Beddgelert @North Wales #walks #photographs #holidays

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The second day, we knew we needed to take it easy, so we planned a short walk for the afternoon. Around three miles from the cottage that we were staying in was the disused Cwm Bychan copper mine, so we decided to explore.


The start of the walk was from the Nantmor National Trust car park, easy enough to find. We went under the railway bridge (still no steam train), and onto the stony path that led up through woods.

We’d been told these were bluebell woods, but, of course, in September no signs of bluebells, but impressive heather anyway.The area also includes internationally rare heathland, found only in the western coastal areas of Europe that provides habitat for numerous butterflies and birds.

The path wound upwards, sometimes not as distinguishable, always following the stream.

We were tempted to sit here, but I knew if I sat down I might not stand up again; the short walk had turned into yet another climb – and the weather looked as though it was changing.

But, gradually the woodland path changed into easier, wider paths on the open mountain, and I was reliably informed that the remains of the copper mines was, “just around the corner”.


And there it was!

Various relics of that era can still be seen, including the aerial ropeway with its pylons and terminal wheel. And, in the background, the slag heaps of waste copper.

The evidence of the copper mining that used to be carried out here is quite poignant. The silence, broken only by occasional bird calls, the rustle of the breeze through the long grass, the bubbling of the stream, obviously a contrast to how things used to be.

Mining has been dated back to at least the seventeenth century in Cwm Bychan. The mines finally closed in the nineteenth century, then re-opened in the nineteen twenties. It was at this time that an aerial ropeway was built to help remove the Chalcopyrite ore for processing. But the attempt to restart production was short lived and the mine finally closed by the end of that decade.

I needed to research what Chalcopyrite is – a copper-iron sulphide mineral, the primary source of copper metal.

Image courtesy of Wikipedia

I learned that Chalcopyrite, also called Peacock Ore is thought to be an uplifting stone. It may ground nervous energy which allows the body and mind to let go of stress and embrace calm. It also may be used to remove energy blockages, cleansing, activating and aligning the chakras and energy bodies at the same time. To be an excellent aid to increase self-esteem, banish fears and doubts, and soothe the emotions. … fascinating. They must have known this in the nineteen twenties?

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Where We Walked #Nantmor to #Beddgelert via Bryn Ddu – the Fisherman’s Path -River Glaslyn #Wales #walks #climbs #photographs #no stiles #holidays. Part Three – the Last Leg of the Walk

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The last part of our hike walk was along the Fisherman’s Walk,following the course of the Afon Glaslyn, a sixteen mile sea trout river whose source is a lake in a valley on the edge of Snowdon,and eventually runs into Tremadog Bay near Porthmadog.

We’d rewarded ourselves with a fabulously tasty but light meal in a bistro in Beddgelert and a wander around for an hour or so, before tackling the last part of the walk. After refilling our water bottles we strolled along a paved footpath along the riverside. This will be a doddle, I thought, watching the Photographer indulge in a few photos shots. A nice, calm, wide river.

Further on we crossed a footbridge beside the railway bridge and went through two kissing gates that crossed the railway line (still no sign of the elusive steam engine – to his disappointment and my relief at that point – after the day we’d had I didn’t fancy being run over by a steam train!).

But I wasn’t prepared for what was around the corner…

Glorious though the river was, it had rained quite a lot in the previous few weeks. Now Afon Glaslyn flowed swiftly over rocks and gulleys. And the path is made up of slabs, rocks and, sometimes an indiscernible way forward. I think the only thing I said in the next hour was … “Where’s the path gone?”

See what I mean?

This section was especially challenging – note the handholds hammered into the rock face so we could swing around the corner of the rock on the narrow path … er … stone slabs above the churning Afon Glaslyn.

One last scramble over rocks before we reached the relatively safer gravel path

And back onto the bridge that we’d stood on at the beginning of the day. And a chance for a last photograph.

And … a welcome sight … back to the cosy farm cottage in Nantmor, where we were staying for the week. Ready for an evening of quiet editing of my next book – The Stranger in my House

Nantmor is famous for being the filming location of the 1958 film, Inn of the Sixth Happiness starring Ingrid Bergman and Robert Donat. The film was based on the true story of Gladys Aylward,a British nurse who became a missionary in China in the unsettled years leading up to the Second World War. Nantmor doubled as China and people from the Chinese communities in Liverpool were brought in as extras for filming.

I found an interesting article on the history and repairs of the Popular Fisherman’s path in Beddgelert when ” After winter storms and high river levels washed away a 100m section of the Fisherman’s path, the Welsh Highland Railway swapped its cargo of tourists for stone, reverting to its original purpose for a day. Repaired, thanks to special delivery by Welsh Highland Railway.” Published: 20 February 2023: https://tinyurl.com/32md9b3f

Where We Walked #Nantmor to Beddgelert via Bryn Ddu #Wales #walks #climbs #photographs #nostiles #holidays – Part One

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‘It’s the longest walk we’ll do,’ said the Photographer, ‘But it’s such a glorious day, and we’ll get some gorgeous views. Better take the walking poles as well.’

I know. I know… ‘walking poles’ should have been the clue!

It was a gentle, if somewhat a rocky start to the walk through the woods.

And then the Afon Glaslyn (Glaslyn River) came into view. ‘We come back to here along the river bank,’ the Photographer said.

‘Oh, lovely, said I!’ And meant it… then

We went through the kissing gate, over the road bridge, turned left on the road, until we saw a National Trust sign for Coed Aberglaslyn (Aberglaslyn Trees) and followed the footpath towards the stream.

So far so good. “Follow the waymarkers up through the woods”. But the waymarkers had long since disappeared. And here I need to say, the following was completely my fault. “Follow the path to the stream”, the directions read. So I did. But you would think, after all these years, the Photographer would know I have no sense of direction.

And here is the stream.

“Turn right,” the directions read. Across the stream? Which was flowing fast and deep. We read, and re-read the directions. We searched for a path.

For half an hour.

Suddenly we were joined by a couple. ‘We have the O.S.map on our mobiles,’ the man announced. ‘We know the way. You can follow us.’

So we did…

For almost an hour we followed them, clambering over boulders, up along boggy paths (sheep trails, they turned out to be), splashed through water, until we reached the top of the hill. To discover it wasn’t the top of the hill. Whereupon the woman turned to us and cheerfully said, ‘We’re not very good at orienteering. I think we’ve gone wrong.’

We went our separate ways. We slipped, negotiated the boulders, slithered through mud, back to the stream. And then back to the bridge. And there we found a waymarker – hanging off a post, pointing to the ground. We looked around – and there, going up through the wood were long narrow indents in the ground… steps!! Of a sort.

‘It says in the directions there should be a stile at the top. Chance it?’ the Photographer asked. ‘Or would you rather give up?’

A stile!! But his words sounded suspiciously like a challenge. I’ve never been able to resist a challenge…

We tackled the way up the hill, winding through the trees. It turned out there were just over a hundred of the so-called steps, which necessitated hanging onto trees and hauling ourselves up branch by branch – or hauling one another up – in places. We had lots of stops for breath. And we needed those walking poles.

Until we were actually on Bryn Ddu. The halfway point to Beddgelert. Finally we were on the right track.

We stopped for a few photographs.

Before setting off again to search out the base of a tower, built on a prominent outcrop at a viewpoint overlooking Aberglaslyn Pass. The whole structure is built on a stone plinth which forms a narrow terrace around the tower. Thought to be a wartime lookout post.

From the lookout point we could see Beddgelert … in the distance. And the narrow trail winding its way down the hill. We stopped for much needed refreshments, and to catch our breath before tackling the next half of the walk.

To be continued…

Where We Walked @BodnantGardens @Wales #walks #photographs #holidays #memories

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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.

Where We Walked: Llanwrst – Melin Y Coed – a Five Mile Circular Walk #Walks #Photographs #history #alittlehumour #MondayBlogs @Llanwrst @North Wales

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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 directions became 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 evidence below?

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”).llanrwst_pont_fawr_watercolour

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.

llanrwst_inigo_jones

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”.

llanrwst_pont_fawr_drawing

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.

Courtesy of:

Walking the Samaria Gorge – White Mountains National Park #memories #holidays #photographs #MondayBlogs

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Twenty years ago we went to Crete. Enticed by the write up in brochure in a cafe we decided to walk the Samaria Gorge. The entrance to the Gorge is from Xyloscalo, near the village of Omalos, leads past the old village of Samaria and (sixteen kilometres, that’s ten miles in old money) later eventually ends at Agia Rouméli, a small pretty coastal village with glorious views of the Mediterranean Sea. And tavernas under canopies of eucalyptus and cypress trees. I have to say it was the thought of this last description that persuaded me.

Last week, much to his excitement, husband (the photographer) found some of his photographs taken with one of his old cameras. These reminded me that this was the very first long walk that we actually did together.

Shades of things to come!

When I say “together” I actually mean that, if I didn’t keep an eye on what he was doing, I’d often be walking for ages before realising I’d been talking to myself and he was nowhere in sight. Since then I’ve learned to take a notebook and pen on these excursions so I can sit and write while he takes dozens of different photographs of the same scene, but from different angles, with different lenses, and all that technical stuff.

Armed with strong hiking boots, sunhats, sun cream, bottles of water and snacks we caught the bus at Chania to take us to Xiloskalo at five in the morning. By the end of the hike I was glad we’d started so early; it was sweltering. But I must admit that, at first, I wasn’t quite as enthusiastic as the photographer to be getting up at that time on holiday.

How wrong I was. This is one hike I will never forget.

Declared a National Park in 1962, mainly to protect the endangered Cretan goats (Kri-Kri) which live in the area, the gorge has a rich history dating back to ancient times. Inhabited by people who worshipped the goddess Samaria. It also served as a refuge for Cretan rebels and freedom fighters during various periods of oppression and occupation by foreign powers such as the Turks, the Germans, and the British.

It also is home to the most exquisite plant life…

The Cretan ebony is found only in Crete, with purple flowers that adorn the Cretan mountains. Other endemic Cretan plant species are the Cretan crocus, the beautiful Cretan bell several aromatic herbs that thrive on the island. ( N.B. This is not one of husband’s photographs but courtesy of CRETA MARIS. I couldn’t resist showing this gorgeous plant, which wasn’t flowering at the time we went – otherwise you would definitely be seeing various angles and shots of it courtesy of husband)

The above is the narrowest and most famous section of the gorge – called Portes or The Iron Gates. It’s thirteen foot wide and one thousand six hundred and forty foot high. This was the most rocky part to walk – though as far as I remember we did much clambering over and around boulders all the way. I was very glad of the stout boots.

It took us six hours before we reached Agia Roumeli and relaxed outside a taverna with a cold glass of water and a dakos ( a hard barley rusk soaked in olive oil with coriander seeds, chopped tomatoes, oregano and cheese). I asked how this was made but I’ve never quite managed to achieve that special flavour we tasted that day)

The gorge is only open from May to October; in the first and last few weeks of that period it may close if there’s a danger of flash floods.

And I was glad that I wasn’t told before we set off that the gorge is home to four different snakes, the Balkan whip snake, the dice snake, the cat snake and the leopard snake. Although not dangerous I’m relieved i didn’t see one.

Now husband has discovered photographs from his old camera I’m hoping he can find more from other walks we’ve done over the years. They’ve brought back many memories.

St Justinian’s to Porth Clais: Walking in the footsteps of St Justinian – or, Sometimes Scrabbling on Hands and knees #Pembrokeshire #Wales #walking #photos #memories

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Literally on hands and knees

But it was worth it

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The new-ish Lifeboat Station
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And then wonderful views overlooking Ramsey Island

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Just to prove I was there!!
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And look who we saw! (from a great distance)

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Seal pups and their mums
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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.