Day 34 - Beddgelert to Llanberis

Fitst thing’s first, no trip to Beddgelert would be complete without visiting Gelert’s grave, however bogus it might be. Here’s my dad's description:

The path there led through grazing land and a churchyard to a small grove of trees, with the grave in the middle. It was indeed a lovely spot.

On the way back it stared to rain heavily. My plan for the day had been to walk to Llanberis via Nantgwynant valley and the Pass of Llanberis, which Dad hitch-hiked and described as stunning. However the rain was by now bucketing down and the forecast was thunderstorms and lightning, so I decided that it wasn't safe to attempt a lonely mountain pass by myself in those conditions. I was disappointed as I’d particularly looked forward to that walk, but by freeing up an extra day I now had time to visit Pwhelli and Abersoch - a day trip Dad took that I’d intended to see earlier but foregoed in favour of an extra morning exploring Portmeirion.

I looked it up and the weather there was dry and it would take 2 buses to get there, one to Porthmadoc, another to Pwhelli then a third to Abersoch, and I would then do a long walk along the coast back to Pwhelli and from there get 2 buses to Llanberis via Caernarfon. A long day with lots of buses but at least I’d visit places my dad went and get a decent walk in to boot.

All seemed to be going well. I caught the first bus no problem and left the rain of Snowdonia for the drier coastline. But halfway there a lady boarded and asked for a return ticket to Porthmadoc only to be told by the driver that today was Portmadoc annual parade and the town centre would be closed off to traffic with many bus services suspended until much later in the afternoon. On arrival into the town I discovered that indeed the bus I was intending to take further along the coast had been cancelled, and the next one wasn't until 4pm. Furthermore there were no buses back the way I’d come nor to anywhere else useful, so not only was I unable to do either of the walks I’d planned but I realised with horror that I was now stuck in Porthmadoc!

There was nothing for it but to explore the town a little. And I am glad to say that during the day it is a much nicer place than the one which I saw last Tuesday evening. Here is what my dad made of it, followed by pics I took of my wanderings down the main street, harbour and Ffestiniog Railway terminus.

Well, thought I, perhaps the day won't be wasted, as I'll get to see the parade. Alas I waited for 2 hours on the main street along with many other spectators and chatted to a couple who staying in a caravan in Cricceth who were also waiting for it to begin but an hour after it was due to start there was still no sign of the parade. I was by now feeling like I’d totally wasted my day.

Then all of a sudden the road opened up to traffic again - presumably the parade had been cancelled - and a bus appeared to take me back towards Beddgelert - even better, the same bus continued through it and up to Pen-y-Pass, which was at the top of the Llanberis pass, halfway along the route I’d originally planned to walk today. Furthermore a quick check showed the weather had vastly improved there, and I worked out that I would have just enough hours left in the day to get the bus to Pen-y-Pass and walk the second half of my original route. So after a shaky start, I finally got my walk in and indeed it turned out to be one of the most exciting days walking of the whole trip!

The journey back was unremarkable aside from a long stop whilst cows meandered across the road.

Once we’d passed through Beddgelert however, the views became stunning. Here my dad’s experiences from 1972 and my photos of the same from 2022.

This last pic shows Snowdon as the sharp peak in the centre. It was such gorgeous scenery I wished I had ignored the weather warnings and walked this part earlier. But the rest more than made up for it.

Here I alighted the bus. Pen-y-Pass (head of the pass) consists of the youth hostel (still there), a cafe and a large car park, and marks the start of the Pyg Track, one of the more popular routes up Snowdon.

From here I began my walk down the long valley towards Llanberis. Dad says little about this part…

…so I wasn’t sure what to expect but I was just happy to be out walking once again!

The Pass of Llanberis is a long, narrow valley with the road running down one side and the Afon Nant Peris river in the middle. To the left was a path marked on the map and occasionally discernable on the ground, but mostly the going consisted of trampling my way across grass, rocks and, increasingly the further I went, bog. The morning’s downpour had saturated the ground and I had only just begun when a slimy companion hopped in front of my path.

About a third of the way down the pass turns a slight curve and the twin lakes of Llyn Peris reservoir and Llyn Padarn beyond came into view. Also at this point a fierce wind began to howl and became so strong that I could lean into it comfortably without falling forwards.

About halfway down the wind calmed down and the sun came out, illuminating the valley. I spent five minutes trying to get the perfect picture of a sheep with the coolest beard but it kept turning its head every time I looked at it.

After a small farm the path continued before abruptly ending, both on the map and in real life. It didn't end at any particular place, it just stopped, after which point I plodded on, scrambling over boulders and through ferns, getting very wet and almost losing a shoe in a bog.

For the last section I was lucky enough to have two guides in the guise of sheep whom my approach startled. They walked off in front of me and I followed, and they kept on going all the way, thus showing me the best pre-trampled path through the ferns. Eventually they led me to their friends which also happened to be the place I rejoined the road, and I thanked them for their assistance!

I rejoined the road for a short section before taking a footpath to the village of Nant Peris.

Here I didn't want to continue along the road as there was no pavement and quite a lot of traffic so I took a path marked on the map which rose up the other side of the reservoir from the road before dropping back down into Llanberis. I’m glad I made this choice as it was one of the most stunning sections of the whole trip.

It began through a campsite before leaving Nant Peris behind and towards some enormous slag tips left behind by the now closed Dinorwig slate mine, once the largest in the world, which rose from the earth like Aztec pyramids, monoliths from a long lost past.

What I hadn't appreciated from the map was that the path I had chosen didn't just skirt the slate mine and slag tips, it went right through the middle of them. The first ascent felt downright dangerous - a narrow path carved into the side of a mountain of loose slate with many boulders lying loose as evidence of regular rockslides. The rocks constantly moved underfoot, shifting about and smaller ones rolling down the hill. I was scared to go near either side, on one a steep slope down and the other, almost worse, a slope up that could easily be dislodged causing a landslide that could sweep myself and the path away with it. One lone tree stood halfway as a reminder of nature’s ultimate triumph. It was a hair-raising but thrilling route with increasingly dramatic views.

Part of the fear also came from the rapidly approaching storm. These two pictures taken minutes apart, both looking back at the same view of the valley behind me, show how quickly the storm was gathering behind me. It wasn't safe to proceed too quickly on this terrain but I also didn't want to stop as this wasn't somewhere one wanted to be stranded in bad weather - an inhospitable landscape at the best of times. I began to wonder if I’d made a mistake coming here and perhaps I should've heeded the weather warning but there was no way but forward at this point.

Thankfully the loose scree gave way to a proper road as I entered the mine-workings themselves. The photos give some idea of it but I can't emphasise how dramatic a dystopian landscape this was, especially in the mist and rain which quickly engulfed me. The sheer scale of the mountains of slate peppered with ruins of works buildings and miners cottages, contorted fingers of rusing iron sticking up here and there and huge caves leading into the hillsides like the domain of ancient giants was truly like nowhere on Earth I’ve seen before.

Down below me another unusual sight as the wind whipped up a giant whirlpool in the reservoir below.

The storm briefly subsided and I reached the path that led down through ancient woods which in the mist looked all the more the preserve of fairies, before zig-zagging down steep slate steps overlooking Llanberis and Llyn Padarn to the waters’ edge at Llyn Peris, coming out on a road by the hydroelectric power station.

I walked into the town and headed straight for the hostel. The YHA dad stayed in is still there but was fully booked when I wanted to stay so I was booked in at The Heights Bunkhouse. Given the rain the rest of the town was dead quiet so I was surprised to enter the hostel and discover a Saturday night in full swing. Evidently this was the place to be in Llanberis, not only other hostellers but locals, young and old, around 150 people spread over a rambling building with many rooms and several bars. It was a great vibe but I was conscious that I looked like a wet dog so I checked into my room and changed into dry clothes before returning to the foray.

I had a homemade pizza by myself at a small table then decided I needed to make some friends or it was going to be a very long evening! I considered a short walk but one look out of the door was enough to sway me otherwise.

There was nothing for it but to befriend some strangers and I had soon ingratiated myself with a group of ladies from the Midlands, childhood friends who had all decided to meet up and climb Snowdon, and who had got thoroughly battered by the weather in the process!

They made me repeat their names until I had memorised them all. They were… Jenna, Jade, Rona, Robyn, Louise, Sarah, Caroline and Gilly. One by one they went off to bed until only four of us remained, the mischievous ones! After several hours of conversation fuelles by some disgustingly flavored shots, we called it a night and I took this selfie on the stairs!

Back alone in my bunk bed with no duvet (you’re expected to bring your own sleeping bag) and a pile of dirty clothes as a pillow, I finally experienced the basic hostelling experience my dad did, on the final night that I was to spend by myself before my family joined me for the last couple of days. I had a cold and uncomfortable nights’ sleep but my mind was full of the adventures I’d had so far and with a sadness that they were almost over…