previous day
Day 25
The next day I had a very gentle day, a rest day, although some people might not consider a
ten mile walk over three two-thousand foot mountains to be a rest day. Nearly all my gear
was left under the bed in the hostel and the light pack put me in relaxed mood immediately.
I strolled along the main road, fortunately with a pavement, to Blaenau Ffestiniog where I
bought the last map, 115, another film and replenishments for my coffee supplies. I went
into a little cafe where everybody was speaking Welsh and enjoyed a leisurely coffee with a
slice of cake. The sun was shining, doing its best to make this dismal place look attractive,
but it could not disguise the desolate feel of this grey town surrounded by piles of slate and
decaying quarries where every third house seemed to be for sale.
I climbed slowly out of town through one of the abandoned quarries. Rusting trucks
stood on rusting rails and at the top of a slaty incline rusting wire was wound round the
rotting wooden drum of an old winding house. Nobody it seems is interested in preserving
this piece of industrial history. Some of the quarries have been preserved of course, restored
and turned into successful tourist attractions. While the rails rust and the buildings collapse
it seems unlikely that all trace of the human desecration of this hillside will ever disappear.
The piles of slate are now a permanent feature of the landscape and there is little sign of
plant life getting a roothold amongst them. Only where the slate has been laid into levels
and inclines is vegetation appearing in the cracks. The way out onto the hill was obvious,
the only grassy line, a narrow green passage through the perilously perched piles of grey
slabs.
Above the slate a boggy plateau was crossed to the steeper grass which swept up to the
summit of Moel Penamnen. Snowdon could just be seen, a faint grey silhouette through the
heat haze. By the time I had finished a leisurely lunch it had faded away altogether. The
gentlest of breezes, caressing my bare arms, added to my sense of well being and relaxation
on this almost overpoweringly hot day.
Manod Mawr North Top approached over the bog from the north looks a very ordinary
rounded sort of hill but the south side is just an enormous quarry. The book told me to keep
well to the east to avoid the workings but they have now spread right across the col and far
down the eastern side and they are certainly neither disused nor abandoned. Dumper trucks
were moving up and down the bulldozed tracks and a red notice, which I expected to tell me
to keep out, simply told me to beware of them, which I took as a sign that they expected
walkers to come through, unpleasant though it was. I wondered whether this hill might one
day disappear from the list of two-thousanders as it is progressively quarried away. There is
no such threat at the moment to its parent summit, Manod Mawr, which was a very easy
stroll on grass once the hazardous col had been left behind. A rough descent followed to
Llyn y Manod but it was soon back to the gentle ambling, now through fields, which had
made this such a restful and refreshing day.
Ffestiniog youth hostel is a magnificently situated mansion which used to belong to a
rich quarry owner. The view from the dining room window is breathtakingly beautiful
looking across the Vale of Ffestiniog to the Moelwyns. Tonight the sun sank behind the
bold outline of these hills as the heat haze dispersed in the cool evening air. At breakfast, lit
by the rising sun, they glowed faintly through the early morning mist which gave promise of
another beautiful day. What a pity the YHA is trying to sell this hostel.
I had been rethinking my original plan as I was anxious to avoid carrying my heavy pack
over the knife edge of Crib Goch. I had really enjoyed the easy day on the Manods without
the pack and I thought that if I could now spend two nights at Bryn Gwynant hostel I could
do the Snowdon Horseshoe from there. This idea was thwarted however because when I
rang the hostel they had no beds for either Saturday or Sunday night. It was the May Day
bank holiday weekend. I felt very annoyed and frustrated by this unexpected hitch in my
plans but as things turned out it was a bit of good luck.
next day
Across the Dragon's Back index . . . . . . Welsh Marilyn index . . . . . . my homepage
. . . . . .
GeoCities Yosemite