We wake to a glorious day in our wonderful hotel in Aberdaron – the plan is to walk from Porth Colmon to Mynydd Mawr, where we finished back in March. There are no buses and no taxis and we are resigned to a circular walk which is always a little frustrating. However, overhearing our conversation about the dearth of public transport on the Llyn Peninsula, our friendly landlord jumps up and offers to drive us to the start of our walk – lovely man.
Porth Colmon is a quiet little cove with one summer house, outside of which a middle aged couple are eating their breakfast and reading newspapers. It almost feels like an intrusion when we arrive in the car – we start to walk up the path (quietly). Up onto the cliffs we walk briskly south, past a handful of small coves, through clouds of wild flowers that my photos never do justice to so most of the time I don’t bother.
Porth Wen Bach, Porth Ty Mawr, Porth Widin and Porth Ferin fall beneath our boots until we are brought to a halt by this unusual signpost – I wonder if anybody was ever caught on the close circuit camera scribbling this particular witticism.
Just around the headland lies Porth Iago, a beautiful sandy beach and crystal clear water.
By now it is very hot and we are both hungry, so after great deliberation we find somewhere to spread out and eat our lunch. To my dismay, just around the corner is the loveliest beach cafe with toilets! The beach is called Porthor, otherwise known as Whistling Sands and as we approach it I suddenly hear whistling. No, it can’t be and no it wasn’t – the whistling was coming from a gentleman out to sea, relaxing on his rubber ring.
Apparently, the beach got its name from a phenomenon that occurs during very dry spells when the sand makes a distinct squeaking noise as you walk over it. This is caused by the unusual shape of the sand grains and there are only one of two beaches in Europe where this effect can be observed.
On we go, following the coast path which now wends its way inland through wide stretches of fern and heather only to twist back again to the coast. We are now tired and not relishing the thought of the last stretch of this walk which will be on a tarmac road back to the hotel.
Our point of reference is the stargazing spot where we finished a walk in this area two months ago – it’s on the top of the last headland and it looks very very far away.
Anyway, there is no way out but through so up we go, passing the last Porth for today and eventually the concrete road that leads up to Mynydd Mawr, our destination.
Turning away from the coast we follow the road down for two painful miles until we reach Aberdaron and a pint or two of cold lager. A bit of light relief is provided by this “tim’rous beastie” (well a small rabbit) that hopped out of the hedgerow to say hello.
Distance: 14 miles