TO RESUME my perambulation around the coast of Anglesey, I took advantage of a lull at work and travelled back to Amlwch on a Friday afternoon, staying overnight in nearby Bull Bay. This meant that I was up and out early on Saturday morning, returning to Amlwch just in time to realise that I’d left my sunscreen in London. The weather forecast was approximately ‘Gas Mark Five’.
Tag: sock
LXXIII – Llanrhidian to Llanelli
HAVING had a three-month break in my coastal perambulation forced upon me by various factors including but not limited to biting financial constraints and, thanks to the wettest summer in a hundred years, much of the country being inconveniently underwater, I firmly resolved to begin walking again as soon as was feasibly possible.
XLIX – Newquay to Padstow
THE last day of February saw me continue with my walking, such that I had achieved three day’s worth of planned walks in two. Even though it was the twenty-ninth, and therefore a leap day in a leap year, I didn’t do any leaping from any of the cliffs.
XLVI – Sennen Cove to St Ives
WITH the January weather proving variable, my forty-second birthday saw me ambling gently along five miles or so of the Thames from London Bridge to Greenwich in the company of two good friends. This was entirely lovely. It also reawakened my desire to walk around the coast again.
Thus, a week later, I found myself dozing fitfully through the eight hour overnight bus journey from London to Penzance.
Continue reading “XLVI – Sennen Cove to St Ives”XLV – Newlyn to Sennen Cove
I SPENT my seventh day in Cornwall having a day of rest, on which I took the Scillonian III over to St Mary in the Isles of Scilly, accompanied for part of the crossing by dolphins, and generally had a pleasant time chilling out on the mist-shrouded island.
But I’m not going to tell you about any of that; I’m blogging about the walks.
Continue reading “XLV – Newlyn to Sennen Cove”XLIV – Mullion to Newlyn
DAY six of my week in Cornwall saw me rise bright and early and open my curtains to the sight of a wall of dense, white fog. It was, I decided, a faerie fog.
XLIII – Porthallow to Mullion
ON MY fifth day in Cornwall I was missing a walking sock, despite there being absolutely nowhere it could have gone. Eventually, having searched repeatedly, I asked the piskies nicely if I might have it back.
XLII – Falmouth to Porthallow
AS IT’S been three weeks since I got back from Cornwall and I’ve let a number of other things get in the way, I thought it was about time I found some to write up some more of that week.
So I did…
Continue reading “XLII – Falmouth to Porthallow”