Judith's blog

Geoff writes: it may be the first of June, but it’s still pretty cold. I thought today would be quite breezy, not an XC day, at least on the paraglider, so decided to do the walk we had planned for last week – the Berwyn Ridge Walk. Starting at the largest waterfall in Britain (depending on which bit of the internet you believe, it may or may not be the largest, but it’s still 240 feet – not bad) you walk up to Cadair Berwyn, on the top of the ridge, than back down. The views are stunning – the web site says: “to the east you will see the flat fertile land of Cheshire, to the south the Brecon Beacons and hills of South Wales, to the west the high mountains of Cadair Idris and the Rhinogs and to the north west you will see the three highest mountain ranges in North Wales, the Snowdon massif, The Glyders and The Carneddau”. Except it wasn’t quite that stunning today, since as I arrived at the top, the cloud came down, and cut off the views.

So a walk back down the ridge, to the tea room at the bottom of the waterfall – an amazing location for a tea room, with a perfect view of the waterfall. They even put out bird food on the fence posts at the tea room, so the birds come and sit right next to you as they (and you) eat.

So, although the weather wasn’t brilliant, definitely worth a trip back on a sunny day.

Driving back home, it was clear that it wasn’t as windy as I had expected, and in fact back at the Mynd there were at least three PGs in the air, plus Wayne setting up his hang glider, so off I went. The wind picked up though, and I couldn’t be bothered just gale hanging. It dropped off again around 8.00pm and most people got to fly, but by that time I’d given up and gone for some food.

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On our walk yesterday, we spotted the Ropes and Ladders High Activity course right next to the National Slate Museum. We’ve always wanted to do a tree top/canopy activity thing, but in France, where we have seen them most often, they are usually closed when we pass by in autumn/spring. We got there at opening time and were the only people there. Jim, our personal guide, was a lovely lad originally from Bakewell, so we had a lot of places/experiences in common.

I only got my camera out of the car nearly at the end, but we did the middle (20 feet up) and high (40 feet up) balancing, climbing, tight rope course and then the zip line. The giant swing was a bit like a fairground ride and then we had to climb up a 25 foot pole, stand on a small platform on top of it and then leap towards and grab a trapeze. It would have been less scary if the wind hadn’t been rocking the pole. We had another go at the rope course and then went off for a cup of tea. It was really good, and a long held ambition fulfilled.

We had planned to go to Bangor, Penryn Castle and then Lladdona beach. But instead Jim suggested we go to Newborough on Anglesey. There’s an amazing beach there and you can walk along to the island of Llanddwyn.

We had a read, snooze and picnic first and then set off on the walk to the  island. It’s such a huge beach that the sand density varies, so you could be walking on firm sand one minute and then be sinking down with every foot step the next. Negotiating a comfortable route made it a lot more interesting. We finally got to the little island and light houses. There are still wardens’ cottages and it’s a nature reserve, so lots of wild flowers. On our walk back the tide had gone out further, almost doubling the size of the beach.

It’s been a lovely three days away, with warm sunshine and stunning views. We spent over 14 hours walking and did over 1000 m of ascent. My knees really need a rest now. Looking at the forecast, they’re going to get it!

See photos of today.

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Had I had ear plugs in, the gentle rocking of the van most of the night would have been like being in a cradle, but without them, the roars of the gusts kept me awake most of the night, despite being dog tired. We woke up stiff, but to a glorious day. Having pulled up in near darkness, we only appreciated in the morning the fantastic setting we’d camped in.

We had been a little ambitious with our walk, so decided to do something a little gentler (no mountains!) today. The gentleman in the Llanberis tourist information suggested a walk round Llyn Padarn (Lake Padarn). We’ve walked up in the slate mines high above Llanberis, but have never walked round the lake and looking at the map there seemed a lot of things to see and do on the way. It was supposed to be 5 miles and, it being round a lake, we assumed it was flat, but nothing in Snowdonia is flat!

Geoff doesn’t like walking in trees (“spoils the view”), so he decided that we would start our loop at Brynrefail at the northwest end of the lake, but rather than going through the woods, we’d do a short climb and join the path higher, all the while enjoying views of the mountains. So an hour later, we’d double backed, turned round, got the OS map and GPS out, had various discussions about our respective senses of direction and finally found the right path. Predictably, we should have followed the recommended route in the first place.

It’s a lovely walk, through villages, forests, fields and with a lot of archeological history too. Unfortunately the cafe and adventure park in the country park were closed, as was the quarry hospital, but this just gave us more time in the amazing National Slate Museum, at the southeast end of the lake. It houses the biggest waterwheel on mainland Britain, has an exhibition on life in the quarries as well and demonstrations on all aspects on quarry workings. It’s well worth going to, especially since the whole place is free.

By the time we were back at the car, it had been another five and a half hour walk. We stayed at Pete’s Eats, a famous cafe in Llanberis and went to the pub to plan tomorrow’s adventure.

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Geoff writes: having realised that the sunny but windy weather was going to continue, we decided to go walking for a few days in Snowdonia. Right enough, we spent an hour or so on Monday morning agonising over this – write off flying completely, or take the gliders with us; go to Snowdonia; or the Lakes; or the Dales. In the end, we took the easy option, no gliders, and the closest place, on the grounds that Monday and Tuesday were blown out almost everywhere except Scotland, and Wednesday probably would be too.

So off to Snowdonia. Being a bit unfit, and not having done any serious walking for many months, we decided to do a walk with a 700 metre height difference, and classed as strenuous mountain walking – the Glyders range – Glyder Fawr and Glyder Fach. We’ve flown the Glyders a few times, but never walked them, so we set off from the other side from where we fly. It is a truly stunning walk, up the back of a cwm – two cwms in fact. Most tourists had gone home by this time (it being bank holiday Monday), so there were very few people out.

It was very, very windy, and the closer we got to the top, the windier it got, so much so that we were a little worried, especially as people coming down said how wild it was on top. We passed someone else walking up, a father and young son. The father – who had no map, no compass, no signal for his mobile – asked us if we thought it would be safe for them to continue! Though why you would trust the word of a complete stranger, I have no idea. But the son decided he wanted to go back down, so, probably wisely, they did. We carried on anyway, and really, it wasn’t that bad. We walked over the top of the bowl we normally fly up, but this way we had a lot more time to enjoy the views.

The actual walk was only eight kilometers, but because of the height difference it took us some five hours to do it, with the walk down being particularly hard on Judith’s knees. But all in all, a brilliant day out.

We found a campsite for the night, but slept in the van, as usual – the wind was still very strong, and frequently shook the van throughout the night.

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The weather today looked a bit messy. Clear in the morning and then clouding over, then clearing again in the evening. Snow/rain only in the west of the country (Catalonia, that is). To be fair, I hadn’t looked at the synoptic charts, and in retospect, if I had done, I would have seen the big warm front passing through and dismissed the forecast.

With the wind increasing, I thought it would be a good idea to go for a walk and instead of using our passes to go skiing at Nuria, we decided to get a free ride in the mountain train and then walk back down. It’s a stiff walk with a 700m height difference, so a bit like walking down Snowdon via the Pyg path.

We had work to do this morning, but left the house in what seemed like a summer’s day. Blue, little cumulus popping off and warm. The satnav said we would only just make it to the train in Queralbs, so Geoff put his foot down and we got there with 8 minutes to spare. Nuria is only accessible by rack and pinion railway – no cars up there. There has been a religious building of some sort since the 6th century, but now there is a horrible grey concrete block there. Completely not in keeping with its surroundings and not in the local style at all. The sun had completely gone at this point with high cloud coming in, but it wasn’t clagged in. We had a quick coffee and then set off down the path. The first way marker said it was 2 hours 25 minutes to Queralbs, so we decided to amble. I had assumed that most of the snow on the path would either have melted or have been turned to slush by walkers over the weekend, but I was very wrong. What wasn’t snow had been trodden to ice and we were both glad I had brought my walking sticks. We took one each and needed them when slipping along the narrow icy paths with big drops next to us.

The snow line also went a lot lower than I thought, so we walked down very slowly. We had been walking about an hour when we spotted the next distance marker, which said Queralbs 2 hours 25 minutes. Ok… A good way along, we stopped for a picnic and realised that it was 16.20pm and the cloud was dropping down the mountain sides. Time to get a move on! The distance markers kept giving us ridiculous walking times, which seemed to randomly make our destination seem just round the corner or unreachably far away. Forty-five minutes from Queralbs it started spitting and we really started walking seriously. We got there to find most of the bars and restaurants closed but one open to serve us a well deserved beer after 4 hours of walking.

We got to the car and it was pissing down and continued to do so all the way to Castellfollit. Thanks for the heads up, Meteocat!

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The Parapent Bellmunt group announced a Breakfast & Fly day, starting with refreshments at the monastery at 11am. Having looked at the weather, I thought it would be far too windy, but we decided to head out anyway and go walking if flying wasn’t a possiblity. It became clear as soon as we opened the door that we probably wouldn’t fly today, but you never know… Bellmunt is in a different valley system after all.

We got there later than expected. On the ground in Torrello the wind was less, but the flags were showing it too far off to the west. At the landing field it was top end and predictably, it was blown out at the top. We decided to do a walk along the spine of the ridge, then drop down into the valley behind and then have a steep walk back up to the monastery. With temperatures at the coast predicted to be 20°C, it was pleasantly warm even at 1250m and we were soon shedding jackets and jumpers. I was glad it’s been dry for a while. Some of the path goes over slippy stones right on the edge. Well, both edges… it not so much a spine back as a razor back. Big drops either side if you slip.

We had a picnic at the end of the ridge in the sunshine and then dropped down into the shady north side. The walk took about three hours and we had a coffee in the monastery on our return. It was still far too windy to fly…

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Today was the first day our season pass was valid again after the Christmas holidays and we were itching to go. However, once we checked the forecast and the snow report again, our enthusiasm shrank to nothing. Here the forecast was 18°C and in the mountains 8° to 13°C. Masella was saying that the snow was ‘humid’ and they usually talk the conditions up. In the end, we decided not to go, as there were also strong winds forecast, which would probably close the higher runs, leaving us stuggling in the slush at the bottom.

Since flying was also out of the question, we decided to head to the coast and have a walk round Aiguamolls. It’s a marsh land nature reserve home to some 327 species of animals. It’s especially good for birds. During the migration season, thousands of birds stop off, but there are also a lot that stay for the winter. I have something of a checkered history as far as birdwatching is concerned. As a child, my parents used to drag me (often kicking and screaming) on ‘walks’, which were actually a few steps and then ages standing around while they did some twitching, then a few more steps before the process was repeated. My sister showed some interest and was rewarded with her own set of binoculars, so I had to endure all three of them gawking while I sulked. Any attempts to get me interested, like asking me to identify an easy bird like a pigeon or a sparrow would elicit the same answer: “It’s an American eagle!”. I’m sure there were times my parents considered giving me up for adoption.

We last went to Aiguamolls about 11 years ago with my parents and they were amazed when a whole load of flamingos came and paraded right outside the hide for us. They were convinced that my life-long resentment of our feathered friends had the same effect that I have on cats. I’m allergic, so obviously every cat comes and sits on me, regardless of how much I try to fight the damn things off. Anyway, being a pilot, I have developed far more of an interest in birds and am now quite good at identiflying at least the ones we fly with. And the information office finally found a way to really interest me in bird-watching… they gave me a picture card and I could tick them off!

So we went to Aiguamolls in the hope of seeing some flamingos and to have a nice walk too. We had chosen the circluar walk right round, but it was closed part way due to flooding. We went to the first hide, but saw only storks and a variety of ducks – no flamingos. We walked for 4km to the beach, looking in all the hides on the way, and saw all sorts, but it was only on the way back in the last hide we decided to look in that we saw a flock of 29 flamingos, some still with a little pink colouring. They were mostly standing around on one leg, with their necks curled back and their head stuck under a wing snoozing. Still, it was amazing to see them.

After, we went to Castelló de Empúries for a snoop around and a sandwich.

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