One year on and its time for another walk and another unduly dramatic blog. This time I’ll be mostly alone as Paul isn’t coming, miss that guy already (just FYI he’s not dead). Anyway this years walk will once again be set in North Wales over eight days. However this time I will start near the tip of the Llyn Peninsula, walk along that gorgeous coast into Snowdonia and up Snowdon. Then head down through Betws-y-Coed up the Conwy estuary for a surfing day and across Conwy to my home in Abergele. That’s about 60 miles. Easy peasy right?
You may have noticed from my photographs, that the villages in the uplands of Wales are green and lush with life. Nearly all of them have big rivers running through them which you can hear from almost anywhere in the village.
I am so tired. So, so, so very tired. Not sure exactly how far I’ve walked. I think I’ve walked for 10 straight hours though. The sun is setting pretty spectacularly on the opposite side of conwy valley.
After a moonless night. Soothed by pattering waves of valley rain and the occasional sheep bleat. I woke to the green light of my chrysalis for the last time. At first this made me depressed. Then I looked at my feet.
*Yes I'm sorry** the strap line for this blog is definitely a butchered version of the wonderful Douglas Adams' strap line for 'The Hitch Hikers guide to the Galaxy - A trilogy in five parts'. I stole his words partly because I love his work lots and lots but also because it made sense. My walk will take me through a trilogy of Welsh regions - The Llyn Peninsula, Snowdonia and the Conwy Valley and it will all be done in eight days/parts.
**Paul has informed me that apologising for literary references is beyond pretentious and thus very irritating (his wording was slightly more blunt). So sorry for that as well***.
***I should probably add another general apology up front. I'm not sure what walking alone in the woods will do to me so this blog could get very bleak indeed. Not to mention the already below par standard of writing slipping to all new lows. Like a crazed street cat trying to catch curb side ants I'll likely be scratching and scrambling around desperate for more interesting similes.