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Travel StoriesBeddgelert 2011 - By Ren Withnell
Beddgelert 2011 - A Walk Around Beddgelert Forest
Yesterday was sunny...looking out of the window this morning looks far less promising. It's grey, cool and ominous outside. We get out of bed and dine on toast covered in tasty local jam then prepare for our walk. The gf has been quite organised and printed off a walk from some website with what appears to be concise instructions. What's not so clear is where the start of this walk is. All I can suss out is that the instructions start from "somewhere along the Beddgelert to Caernarfon road."
While the gf does whatever women do in the mornings I settle down to read some more of the Bike magazines. From above I can hear taps being run, clothes being sifted through and much walking around, but I'm too engrossed in learning about which is the best touring bike to even notice. I'm part way through learning about what grip is and how it affects my bike when she comes downstairs. I'm about to put the magazine down when she starts making sandwiches so I carry on reading.
The weather this morning does not look at all promising.
It's cold and damp outside, and I've no walking jacket. My bike jacket will have to do as it's the only one I've brought with me. With a slight shiver we set out along the Caernarfon road and I feel slightly curious as to whether we can actually find this walk, let alone whether my poor feet are up to the job or not. I'm fit enough to walk a fair distance, but ever since I was a kid my feet would hurt after a while for reasons unknown. Mentally I set myself a limit, 2 hours, at which point I shall insist we turn around and make our way back. We once got lost on a walk thinking the point we were looking for would be "around the next corner". 8 hours later we finally returned. I don't wish to repeat that ever again.
As we leave the village the road climbs gently. We pass an outdoors shop that we promise to inspect on our return and a handful of houses in all shapes, sizes and disrepair. The road has no footpaths which gets scary especially when vehicles approach in both directions, I'd really like to get off the road. We leave the houses and enter the countryside and as we do the weather starts to improve. The grey skies lighten a little and the air warms and now this bike jacket is becoming a hindrance. I take it off and carry it, this is going to be a real bind. The road climbs upwards along one side of a lush green valley and I hear the steam whistle from the Welsh Highland Railway line.
I grab my camera but each time I glimpse the train it disappears behind more trees, all I can see are the puffs of smoke from the chimney. The road climbs some more and there's no sign of the Forestry Commission car park that marks the start of our walk. The gf questions if we're on the Caernarfon road, I assure her we are, she looks at the instructions again for clues, but non come and so we carry on. I quietly point out that this road is 13 miles long. We carry on.
A green sign up ahead looks like it will be a Forestry Commission sign, and this will lead us to our car park, what a relief! Nope. It's green alright, but it's a sign that leads to a campsite in Beddgelert Forest. No mention of the commission. Dagnammit. We carry on. The weather improves a little more, the traffic passes us far too closely and I monitor my feet for the first signs of discomfort. I'm doing OK, I just want to find the turning, the car park and to start the walk proper. Another corner, it'll be after the corner, another corner, it'll be after the corner...this is starting to become all too familiar. We've been walking for over an hour.
There's no sign of the damn car park. There is a narrow road leading off the main road and it seems to lead into a lot of trees, the forest. Even the gf's getting frustrated now, she's probably worried about me moaning about my feet, she knows what I'm like. We don't actually make a decision, not officially, we just take the narrow road towards the forest. We pass a couple of small farmhouses and 2 farming types stand by a fence next to a river, they appear to be engrossed by something but I can't see what. The road turns from tarmac to gravel and climbs past a handful of remote lodges. I fear we may be getting very lost so I try to make a mental note of each landmark.
The accursed sign...OK it's green like the Forestry Comission signs and it does mention a forest...
Then damn me, there's a sign for a Forestry Commission car park! Sure enough there's a map on wooden posts, the outline of the map is not too dissimilar to the outline on our instructions. I try to figure out how the hell we got here from the instructions, but I give up and happily accept we are here. We take some time to ensure we've got an idea as to where we're going and the gf, very wisely, suggests I take a picture of the map on the posts.
I feel much more upbeat now. We're off that damn road and away from that damn traffic first of all. This jacket is proving to be manageable, the weather's improved and we're back on track. We cross over the narrow gauge railway tracks and into the forest. The forest is dark, damp, cold and quite spooky. Tall pines tower over the narrow path and block any kind of view. I imagine wolves and big spiders are watching as we pass and although I'm not scared I really don't think I'd like to be here after dark. We climb a short while until the track opens out onto a wide gravel road that looks over and down into the valley.
As we walk on I'm reminded of watching the British Rally on TV. Crowds of people would watch cars fly by at breakneck speed in poor light with cold weather on roads just like this. I know the rally used to come through Wales. We crunch our way uphill a little further before we spot a numbered post that indicates would should turn left. As we turn we look down into the valley and it is quite a sight to behold. It does not have the majesty and grandeur of a Scottish Glen or Loch yet here I can see what the Welsh mean by "The Valleys" and why it evokes such emotion.
The gravel track with the valley set in the distance.
We stop and sit on a rock looking out over the vista. We eat the sandwiches and drink the tea the gf made this morning and all feels well. My feet are a little weary but holding up and although we can't see Beddgelert which is down behind the trees at the bottom of the valley, I take comfort in knowing that I'm certain where it is. We head downhill again and at another post I'm not sure which way to go. That gf is a wise woman, she instructs me to consult the picture of the map I took at the car park. It takes a little doing to zoom in and out but I find the post number and gladly work out we should be heading down this track.
We head down down down through more pines then through scrubland and eventually we reach the railway again and the campsite, the same campsite we'd passed walking up. We could simply walk back to the road and back to Beddgelert but my feet are fine and time is on our side so we sit a while on a bench in the campsite. There's a small shop, a playground and plenty of pitches spread around a complex of wooded roads. There are plenty of caravans but few seem recently occupied. As we walk around the site we discuss how so terrible this economic crisis is that people can still afford to buy costly caravans and pay site fees to leave them there just for odd weekends away.
Beddgelert campsite looks really nice! I'll put it on my list of places to stay next time I'm here.
Rather than going straight back to the main road I try to navigate us back to a path behind the campsite that I'd spotted on the map . We end up climbing through boggy marsh, dense woodland and over fences until we end up stuck behind a fence that protects the railway. Damn. We finally cross the tracks not more than 20 yards from where we crossed to get onto the campsite. Damn. Still, I find the path.
The path takes us down into the valley, across the tracks again then peter's out. Nothing. From solid gravel track to a field full of sheep, boggy marshland and streams. I can see the road and hear the traffic but the only way to reach this is across the field. There's a public footpath sign pointing towards the road, so we proceed. Fortunately there's no real hardship crossing the field but at the far end is a river. A river that cuts deep into the bedrock and is completely impassable. Well, impassable save for the convenient sturdy steel footbridge. I can't decide if I'm not actually lost or just bloody lucky.
We'd have been up the creek sans paddle if it were not for this conveniently placed bridge...
Another grassy field leads us back onto the main road and it's not far at all to get back to the outdoor shop we'd passed earlier. This time we pop in and I look at some fancy 4 season sleeping bags. I'm considering a trip to Cornwall on the 125 in the middle of winter next year and I wonder if one of these costly but comfy looking items may be on the cards. We carry on back into Beddgelert and back to the shop to purchase some more supplies before we get back to our little cottage. I'd been apprehensive about the walk today but all in all I think it panned out very well.
For tea this evening we dine on boiled rice and chilly from a tin, basic, not particularly tasty but satisfactory and not costly. There's still quite a lot of the day left so I decide to go into Porthmadog just for a mooch around and to pass the time. The gf's up for the trip too so we kit up and head out on the bike. The roads are narrow and even though the weather today has improved it never got warm and sunny, so there's damp patches around in unpredictable places. I push on a little but when one damp patch catches me by surprise I decide it'd be nicer to back off and enjoy the ride.
The road to Porthmadog is closed! We are diverted onto another route that I'm unfamiliar with and I'm concerned that like most diversions the signs will magically disappear. Not so this time, at each junction clear signs take us down quiet country roads lined with trees, farmland and rivers and although it takes a while longer we're soon heading into town. They’ve been busy in Porthmadog, on the outskirts at least. A shiny new stretch of tarmac leads us past a new Tesco then onto the familiar main road. In town itself nothing has changed much since I was a child, let lone my last visit. At a bank I get some more cash out and ask the gf if she remembers it all.
She's been here twice with me, yet it's all alien to her! On the one hand I'm gutted as it makes the previous trips seem pointless, but on the other hand it's all new to her. That said, Porthmadog is nothing special. We stop again at the marina and she vaguely recollects having been here before. Very vaguely, I wonder if she's just humoring me. I take time to look at the boats in the marina and again we discuss how awful the current economic climate is, how terrible it is that people can afford to have all that money tied up in a boat that sits gathering barnacles in the tide.
Porthmadog Harbour, the gf seems to have a vague recollection of this...think she's just humoring me.
Back at the cottage that evening we watch TV and this being the last night I burn the last of the coal and wood which dries may face up and warms the room gloriously. We're heading home tomorrow and back to the dull routine of life, work and living. But that's tomorrow, not tonight.
Beddgelert 2011 - Going To Beddgelert
Beddgelert 2011 - Caernarfon Castle By Bus
Beddgelert 2011 - A Walk Around Beddgelert Forest
Beddgelert 2011 - Going Home
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Travel StoriesBeddgelert 2011 - By Ren Withnell