flummery

So remember how Booking.com told me our hotel reservation in Aberystwyth was confirmed, but when we got there the hotel had never heard of us? The agent I talked to on the phone on the spot said that if I booked one of the alternative hotels they'd email me, Booking.com would cover any extra cost. I booked one of them, it was quite nice, and it cost an extra £105; but a follow-up "sorry about the screw-up" form email from B.c said that they would refund up to £51.90. (Which is a weird number; I have no idea how they came up with it.) So obviously I was not happy about eating the other £53.10!

Well, it took an hour on the phone with them again today, but I emphasized that the first agent had specifically said that if I chose one of their options I would not face any extra expense, and also used the phrase "Booking.com's error" a couple of times, and in the end I did get the full amount refunded! (Well, they issued it as an in-house "cash credit," but I can withdraw it all to a credit card.) Victory is mine!

our last real days in Wales

Yesterday was forecast to have much better weather than today, and yesterday and today were our last days in Wales, so yesterday we did our last big hike! We caught a bus to Borth, on the coast about twenty minutes north of here, and spent four hours walking back home along that section of the Wales Coast Path. (We'd considered going south, but the description we found of the path south from Aberystwyth basically said "you immediately start by going steeply upward for a six-hundred-meter rise without a break" and that was it for that option, buh-bye.) It was a lovely day! No rain except for a brief misting just as we started, a strong breeze that kept us cool even on the steep upslopes where we were working hard, and it was always coming off the ocean so we didn't, you know, get blown over the cliff to our deaths. (I did get almost blown off my feet landward once or twice, and I always kept my hiking pole on the cliff side, so that it would always be pushing me toward safety.)

I mean, it's not that dangerous! People hike it constantly, including the trail runners who passed us over a different section a few days ago, and we met another runner on the path yesterday! But I can get a bit freaked out, and I'm always a little nervous about bad footing even when I'm not on a cliff edge, so I (we) take it slow.

We also take it slow because we want to admire the amazing views! Here's Geoff on the trail about half an hour after we started, still kitted up for rain although it had stopped by then:



We had started from the near/right end of the beach that's just over his head, so you can see we'd already climbed a fair bit. The day involved a lot of ups and downs; check this out:



If you open the actual picture rather than this thumbnail and zoom in, you can see the path, just on the outside of the main fence (for pretty much the whole way, we were walking with a fence on our left and a cliff edge on our right). Unusually, there's a fence between the path and the cliff edge for a little way here as well, where the cliff edge has eroded even closer to the path than usual. Then the path descends very steeply to sea level, where there's a track from a field out to the water; there's a little footbridge over a small stream (and also a bunch of rubbish someone dumped there, which was upsetting to see but thankfully was also unique in our experience), and then the path climbs equally steeply up the facing cliff, which you can't see but you can see a bit of it right at the top (bottom left of the picture), where it's contouring around the rise so that the dropoff is briefly on the left (as you walk southward toward the camera) instead of on the right.

Down at the very bottom, by the footbridge, this sign was posted:



saying, in Welsh and English, "CAUTION: There is no lifeguard service on this beach," and all I could think was "No kidding."

We'd read that there can be seals and dolphins in these waters, but we didn't see any: only sheep in the fields, and seagulls, and a kestrel hovering absolutely motionless in the air, almost even with us and far above the shoreline below, close enough that we could watch all the constant tiny motions and adjustments it was making to hover so perfectly motionlessly in one spot. It was like a bird of prey version of a hummingbird!

We had the usual cheerful exchanges with other walkers, and the usual rest stops to drink water and eat trail mix. I bought bags of mixed nuts and mixed dried fruit a few towns ago, and so we mix them together and that's our trail mix; but the mixed dried fruit I found was really meant for baking, not snacking, so it has raisins, sultanas, currants, and also bits of candied lemon and orange peel. It makes the trail mix feel rather posh!

The last bit into Aberystwyth was a hard climb up the hill at the north end of the bay we're on, but worth it for the views (and also the sense of accomplishment). We did see a seal on the beach as we walked along the promenade back to our hotel, but sadly it was dead.

We had a very tasty dinner at a hotel restaurant just up the beach that was recommended by one of the staff here, and then we had a great treat! When we were walking around town the day before, just looking around (and buying me new gear), we'd passed a bar/event venue called the Bank Vault, and the schedule posted outside said that the next night would be performances by members of the Aberystwyth Folk Music Society! Well, we couldn't miss that! So we skipped our usual local beer with dinner (we told the waitress we were going to a bar with live music after dinner, and she immediately said, "Oh, the Bank Vault? That's a great place."

There was no cover charge, but we shared four half-pints of three different beers, and when we ordered the last one we told the guy pulling them "and one for yourself as well," which the waitress at dinner had told us was an appropriate way to tip. (She said they wouldn't expect it but would be pleased, and his reaction bore that out. I saw someone else leaving a few coins on the bar when he picked up his drink.)

a few comments on masking

I forgot to say that, on the bus from Fishguard to Aberystwyth, we saw the first person masking, other than us, that we've seen on this entire trip! Just some guy, our age or a little older, he got on and rode for a few stops and got off again, but I almost did a doubletake.

And we've been eating indoors without masking because we don't have other good options, but we did mask in the Bank Vault, briefly lowering the mask to take a sip of beer and then replacing it before inhaling again. And we've masked in all the shops we've been in, and -- jumping ahead to today -- while we were looking around the National Library. And once again nobody blinked an eye, or did a doubletake, or acted weird about interacting with us, even though we are being, statistically, very weird. I've really appreciated that.

The music last night varied from "that was definitely a song, I'll say that for it" to really, really good. Nearly all the performers were older (or just plain old) men, but there were a couple of younger people and a couple of women in the mix. (Literally two women, in two make/female duos. Those duos had the best songs by far.) The first performer played an accordion, most of the rest had guitars, and here's a picture of a guy with a harmonium:



It was a pretty small space; what the picture shows is almost the whole ground floor. I took the photo with my back against the small bar, and then there was a stairway behind that going up to a second level, from which our waitress had said you could look down on the performance space, but we didn't go up there; we liked our seats at the bar, where we had a great view and also could keep trying local beers! They had fourteen options on tap, and the bartender was happy to let us sample anything before committing to it:



And then around ten pm we staggered home to bed.

Today was forecast to be much worse weather, meaning rain all day, but it turned out to be lovely! It did start out raining, and I made the unpleasant discovery that my new rain pants are slightly too short, and allow water to run off the bottom of the pant leg into the front of my boots. Fortunately, we had bought short rain gaiters for this trip, although we hadn't ever actually used them! But I put mine on and they fixed the problem perfectly, which is of course what they're meant to do. And then it turned into nice weather anyway.

Today we stuck around town; my knee was bothering me a little and we didn't want to try another strenuous hike anyway. We wandered through town some more and then climbed the steep but short hill up to the National Library of Wales! They had a couple of exhibits on; I was particularly interested in the one documenting protests against the flooding of the Tryweryn Valley in 1965 for the sake of Liverpool's water supply, which meant destroying a Welsh village, but I was also curious to see whatever was included in the "treasures" on display. In the end, though, we mostly just wandered around the building, admiring old books on display in beautiful cabinets. The Tryweryn Valley exhibit was smaller (and the story less well documented, for those of us who knew nothing about it) than I'd hoped, and I completely forgot to look for the other ones! And then we wandered home along a new route, just to see some different things, and now are back in the hotel catching up on blogging before dinner.

So mostly today was a winding-down day. Tomorrow we take a train to the outskirts of London, so that we can easily get to Heathrow the next morning!

Geoff is the primary photographer of our trips, just as I'm the primary logisticker. But I have taken a few photos that I thought folks might like to see.

And if you don't, that's what cut tags are for!

This was the view from our first hotel room, in Bishop's Castle:



This is a pretty representative image of what the easier parts of our hikes have looked like. (On the harder parts I haven't been getting my phone out except to navigate with!)


This was the cheese I bought for a picnic lunch in Hay-on-Wye. How could I resist?


This was the path we walked along the River Wye:


and this is what it looked like when we got out into the meadow and had lunch:


This was just part of the breakfast spread awaiting us in our Fishguard B&B:

(Yes, a few of the tomatoes had unfortunately gone a bit moldy by the time we got to them. But the others were delicious.)

and this is the ladder up to our sleeping loft!

A beautiful hike in unexpectedly beautiful weather

The morning dawned cloudy with intermittent bursts of rain. For some reason all we wanted for breakfast (aside from coffee with that delicious local milk) was toasted laverbread with butter and jam! The bread is crumbly and hard to slice, so we sometimes ended up with more chunks then slices, and there's something in it that makes my tongue tingle, but it tastes good and it's exceedingly Welsh and I so rarely have butter and jam, it's just not usually my thing, so it was a big treat. But all that beautiful sausage and bacon and the eggs (two of their hens lay blue eggs! Four of our six eggs are blue!) went unloved.

Mike came by to say hi and check in, and showed us radar on his phone suggesting that the rainburst that had just passed would actually be the last one; the official BBC forecast was for (possibly thundery) showers off and on all day, but the radar showed nice clear skies coming in from the west. (He said that he often finds the Irish forecast more useful than the British one, since that's where the weather's coming from.) So we set off walking around noon. We asked him and Christine, who also stopped by on her way to tend to the chickens, what the best way to get from here to the coast path would be, and they gave us directions northward on the road, past a cemetery and a small named settlement/farmhouse and a church that was attacked by about 1400 French soldiers in the last ever invasion of the British Isles, in 1797. The soldiers mostly absconded and/or got drunk, one local woman is reputed to have rounded up eight of them while armed only with a pitchfork, the invasion fell apart, and a peace treaty was signed on the site of the pub we had dinner at last night. One of the local attractions that we will not make time to see is a tapestry depicting the battle, modeled after the Bayeaux Tapestry.

Anyway, after the church Mike's directions degenerated into "I don't know, find a path, follow your instincts!" Which was reasonable, considering that the coast path we were aiming for runs, you know, along the coast, and we could see the water from the churchyard, so when we found a path marked as a public footpath leaving the road and heading toward it, we took it, and indeed it shortly intersected the Pembrokeshire Coast Path. (Wales has a marked and maintained footpath/hiking trail running the entire length of its coast, which is amazing.)

The B&B is north-northwest of the town, and we went north to reach the coast path, so our plan was to turn right and follow it east and south again, back to the town's harbor, and thence home. And Mike was right; the weather was absolutely beautiful, sunny with clouds but never even a threat of rain, and although it was sometimes briefly quite windy, it was always blowing onshore from the water. Which was a good thing, because a good chunk of this part of the path runs along high rocky cliffs over the ocean. Signs on some of the gates leading from farmers' fields warn, "CLIFFS KILL. Stay on the path," and indeed, as I think Buffy once said, "Fall down there, be dead a long time." I never felt genuinely in danger, the footing was generally good although sometimes a steep scramble up or down and we each have a good hiking pole, but I did once make the mistake of imagining what falling would feel like, and I kind of freaked myself out. I was glad when the path moved away from the cliff edge again. And we never admired scenery while walking; we always stopped first and then looked around. I would definitely not want to do that walk in stormy weather.

The path wound up and around, edged with gorse and other brush, and giving us some great views of waves hitting the cliffs, and places where the cliff had calved into the sea. As well as fields on the inland side, of course, but we didn't actually see any livestock in them. (Though at times there was certainly a lot of manure.) We saw the big ferry making its way from Fishguard Harbor toward Ireland. We stopped now and then to eat handfuls of trail mix and drink water and watch seagulls soaring far below us.

And at one point, when we'd been walking for maybe three hours in all, we were startled by a call from behind us of "Track!" and four trail runners overtook us! We're in boots, with poles and a pack and layers (including rain gear just in case, because hello), slogging along the hilly and precipitous terrain (happily! But slogging!), and they come cheerfully loping past us in Lycra shorts and t-shirts! We got out of their way, everybody said hello as they went by, and as the last guy passed me I said, "well, we're impressed!" and he called back something cheerful-sounding in Welsh. It definitely put our sense of trekking accomplishment in perspective!

Eventually we hit the outskirts of town, and descended on roads to the harbor. At the point where we left the coast path (and the coastal national park) a sign noted that, to control plant growth and encourage biodiversity, the area was being grazed by ponies! but unfortunately we didn't see any.

We didn't want to keep asking Mike for rides into and out of town, but we also didn't want to climb the steep hill back to the B&B late in the evening (extremely narrow road with no pedestrian walkway, after dark; also we just, you know, didn't want to climb the steep hill back to the B&B). So we hit a fish and chip shop on the harbor and got two huge pieces of fresh-fried cod, and also a large order of chips to share. I was the one who said "let's split a large," and holy shit a regular would have done; that order of chips would feed four. We sat in the sun on a concrete ramp leading down to the water (not the most comfy, but the benches in the actual waterside park area were exposed to the very strong wind) and managed to finish our fish and put at least a visible dent in the chips. Somewhat to my surprise, we were not harassed by seagulls! One or two landed fifteen or so feet away and eyed us consideringly, but never actually tried for our food. Very polite. So that was our early dinner, and we wouldn't need to go out later in the evening.

We also picked up some pies (one beef and onion, one chicken and mushroom, one Cornish pasty) and a couple of beers to bring back for the next day's dinner (tonight's), because today's weather was predicted to be abominable and we didn't want to have to go out.

We walked out on a long mole/breakwater into the harbor, just to see the water and the land from a different angle. I was amused that, although it was completely wide and firm and level and there was a wide flat path along it with lots of other people strolling out (and two teenage boys fishing off the far end), a sign at its foot warned that the breakwater was not designed or intended for pedestrian access, walk at your own risk; like, they disavow this completely easy and innocent stroll, but the cliff trail is public access?

There is a town bus that sometimes stops a hundred meters from the B&B (and that last hundred meters is virtually level; the bus covers all the steep climb), but trying to figure out exactly where we could catch it and which of its runs went to where we'd want and not somewhere else had defeated me in the pre-trip research. And if you think that sounds silly, here is a map of the bus route (the long thin thing sticking out is the breakwater we walked out on):



But Google Maps' transit info feature came to my aid, informing me that we could catch one going where we wanted in about half an hour. And waiting for the bus was a much more attractive idea than struggling on the road up the hill; we'd been out for almost five hours, and we were full and tired. So we hiked uphill a couple of blocks to what Google indicated was the right corner, and settled in to wait.

After a while a man came out of the pub across the street and called out to us that we'd be waiting quite a while, and we assured him that we knew that. He was waiting for the same bus in the opposite direction; it was going to arrive from the southwest, pick him up and bring him northeast, then reverse direction back to us, pick us up, and bring us west and north. It was very reassuring to have him confirm that it was coming! He also told us the fare: 95p each. I was confident that we'd be able to tap a credit card, since all the buses do that, but I asked him, just in case, and he said he wasn't sure, and actually came across the street to give us two pounds! So nice of him! But I knew I had two pound coins in my bag, and was digging them out. And when the bus arrived for him, he called out to us, before boarding, that he would tell the driver that we were waiting to be picked up on her return.

So he did, and we were, and we enjoyed the feeling of the bus laboring its way up the hill instead of us doing it. Then there were hot showers and a nice quiet evening, with cups of tea. It is very quiet here at night so far out of town (and, I mean, behind two-foot-thick walls).

That was yesterday, and I will post this before starting to try to write up today!