It was a bright sunny start to the day. I'd massively over slept and being so comfortable in the bed really didn't want to get up. I had to though. After breakfast I checked my kit over before heading over to the boathouse to meet frankie and john.
As i was about to wish the guys fair well there was a flurry of activity, cars were turning up at the station and crew were darting into the changing rooms to get ready. There had beena radio call made to the coastguard, the report of a yacht sinking a little way down the coast near Penmon. It only took a few minutes for the boat to get launched with a four man crew on board.
Thankfully this shout was a false alarm. Identifying the sinking yacht as the Hoveringham II, a sand dredger that sunk in 1971. back then the blue peter II was in service, a boat i personally remember the bbc childrens program blue peter had sponsored through donations from the public.
With all the excitement tempered i grabbed my kit and headed along the shore anticlockwise around Anglesey. I hiked the stony shore as far as possible before being forced inland a short way due to the damned trespass laws. This did however give me the opportunity to explore Penmon priory, dovecot and st seiriols well all dating back to the 6th century.
Desperate to regain access to the coast i followed the road for about a mile up to Penmon coastguard lookout where i was able to make it back to the shore opposite puffin island. Before I did though i called in to the Pilot house cafe nearby. Sat enjoying a large coffee and a slice of chocolate cake i began chatting to a local and a couple of american tourists. Explaining what i was doing one of the tourists commented "you're just like...", i was waiting for it, "...an old American explorer discovering the wild west", i didn't expect that!
Before leaving the cafe i was given a slice of lemon cake and a coffee after chatting with its owner who knew what it was like to travel after she'd backpacked Australia with her husband and two toddlers. No mean feat.
From the cafe i headed down towards the beach opposite the old lighthouse where i came upon an enormous painting depicting the scene in front. After pausing to reflect i continued onto the beach and began to clamber over the rocks passing through a natural archway to see how far round the headland i would be able to get. Finding myself cutoff by the perimeter fence of an old quarry i had to turn back to see if i could find an alternative route back to the coast.
The terrain was becoming more rocky now with cliffs bordering the coast. Stopping to check the satellite images i spotted a track that would circumnavigate the quarry but on closer investigation i discovered the track had now been taken over by thickly growing brambles and thorny bushes. It would have to be a case of following a gravel track that led to the quarry until I found a way to cross some fields.
I did eventually, and quite quickly, find a gate indicating some kind of footpath although i wasn't to stay on the path very long. A matter of seconds in fact. With the coast in sight i made a b line across the field and picked up a sheep trail which ran along the edge of the cliffs.
It was tough going un places and i did have to climb fences on my way finding myself in a wooded valley for a short time before continuing to attack Angleseys coast. After several miles I eventually found myself on a tarmac road. Walking towards me a young man and his cousin carrying fishing gear. I didn't get their names but it turned out the young man was a squaddie serving at Marchwood the military base I'd done a quick induction to the TA many years before and also the place that would be my final crossing in hoolley on the trek.
Finding out what i was doing and having good local knowledge he told me if a route that would get me down to the rocks on the coastline although he did warn me it was treacherous. A gopro moment.
Following the road i came upon the car park he'd described and followed the steps down to a wide grass covered ledge. I was told to follow the trail to the end where I'd find some boulders and where it would appear the trail end. Climbing up the boulders i was told would reveal a faint trail that would take me on to a rocky ledge cut into the cliffs. It would be wet and slippery but i would if i was careful be able to get along it.
Sure enough i found the ledge and made my way along, there was a fair drop to the right but the ledge was plenty wide enough to walk along safely. It did however abruptly end and i was unable to get any further. Looking ahead though i felt sure that if i could get down I'd be able to continue by walking over the rocky plateaus below. Using the rope I'd been carrying since Kessock lifeboat station i lowered my pack down to a ledge and climbed down myself. I knew this would probably be a one way passage. Climbing down onto another large boulder and ultimately onto the plateaux i looked back up to see if i could spot an exit strategy should i need one. I couldn't see any easy way out but felt sure that if needs must i would be able to come up with something.
So there i was back at the coast, another section probably never hiked as such. As i made my way along it became apparent there was a reason why. With high cliffs to my left, the sea to my right and a sheer vertical cliff ahead only the truly adventurous would even attempt it. I was literally boxed in with no way to escape. Had i made a grave error, was this a mistake.
I carried on towards the cliff in hope that a way out would present itself. It wasn't looking good. I knew I could alway resort to paddling hoolley out and risking an open water escape. Then i spotted an old weathered climbing rope fixed to the cliff face at two points. I went closer to examine the rope.
Giving it a good tug it seemed fairly solid, knots spaced a metre apart would allow me to take a good grip but there were very few places to place my feet. It was a huge risk. I had to think long and hard as one false move could potentially end the challenge there and then.
Without knowing what I'd find around the outcrop if i decided to paddle i presumed that who ever had left the rope had walked to the location from somewhere. Having the weight of my pack would be a problem but it was going to have to be a risk worth taking and although I'd used my rope to lower my pack down it wouldn't be long enough to pull the pack up after me.
I tugged again. Placing one foot on a small hold i began the climb. Hand over hand, foot over foot scrabbling to get grip i gradually hauled myself laden with the backpack up the cliff face. About 6' from the top the rope traversed the face to a second fixing. This was a big unknown. Inspecting the state of the weather worn rope did not fill me full of confidence. I was now committed though and for me the only way forward was up and across.
Slowly but surely i reached the end of the rope. Reaching up on to the grassy summit i found one hand hold, then a second. Leaning forward i pulled myself up. I'd made it. My heart was pounding the adrenaline flooding my veins. Taking a deep breath i sat back to catch my breath and take in the views basking in my own glory.
The sun would soon be setting so i turned my attention to finding somewhere to camp up. Hiking up off the clifftops i headed for a small woods and found a nice clearing to settle into. Dinner that night, chickenand noodles in a black bean sauce, had never tasted so good.
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