Diwrnod pump: Tro gan Gogledd Cymru; Arfordir a Chefn Gwlad ar Gefn Beic (2021)

Round the back of Mount Snowden (left)

Day five: Aberdaron to Betws Garmon

The first rays of morning light crept through the east-facing gap in my tarp pitch, signalling an early start to the day. I was packed and off by mid-morning, although I had one false start after I realized I was leaving without the key to my (brothers!) bike lock. It was still in the shower from the night before (phew!). Before leaving I had tried calling my lost phone and this time it rang, but there was no answer...it had been found.

I was out on the hilly road to Pwhelli; quite steep in places, mostly gently rolling but bustling with traffic that Saturday morning. I made good progress before stopping at a roadside cafe near Sarn Mellteyrn. After tucking into a delicious ham salad bap I tried ringing my lost phone again. Someone answered it.

A woman's voice said "Hello". She and my phone were in Llandudno. It had been found by her daughter in Eirias Park in Colwyn Bay, presumably in the nature trail area I had stopped at. As she was going away soon, we agreed that she would hand the phone in at Llandudno Police Station and then I would return to pick it up after the Bank Holiday Weekend. The Sun was shining strongly in more ways than one  as I set off towards Pwhelli.

Things got even better. It seemed as if I would be following the busy road all the way, until I discovered NCN42 and NCN41 which took me along some dreamy country lanes into Pwhelli by the back door.

Dreamy lanes on or near NCN42 and 41 approaching Pwhelli

Pwhelli was busy, as you might expect on a Saturday lunch time. I checked out the railway station to see what services were running over the weekend, half thinking I might hop on a train. Instead I headed off towards Criccieth.

Proud flag of Wales flying on the way to Criccieth

I was back on old railway lines again and the flag of Wales was flying proudly at many of the farms and smallholdings I passed along the way. Criccieth was a seaside town in full swing when I arrived in the early afternoon.

An upmarket catering van selling mouth-watering pizzas tempted me but I settled for a cereal bar or two instead.

Bank Holiday Weekend at Criccieth

After Criccieth I was re-united with NCN8 and was able to cruise along as the views across Snowdonia and Cardigan Bay grew ever more spectacular the closer I got to Porthmadog.

Entering the town I stopped at the railway station to check out the train times. The station has a pub directly on the platform and there is a nice beer garden the other side. Conveniently, NCN8 runs close by.

The sign on the platform read, that Bank Holiday Weekend phrase in stock: "Rail replacement bus service". I didn't bother to look much further and decided to ride back towards Caernarfon. But first I needed to eat and I had a pizza craving for some reason.

So how hard can it be to find a pizza on a Saturday night in Porthmadog? I went up and down the high street but couldn't find anywhere. I'm sure if I had tried harder I would have succeeded but the fish and chip shop did the trick admirably instead!

The pub at the railway station in Port Mad Dog

Back at the Station Inn I was supping a pint in the beer garden, basking in the warm late-afternoon sunshine. A gentleman sat across from me showed genuine interest in my trip and asked me where I had been. He was a crusty CTC/randonneur type of guy; even if he wasn't in the CTC or had never ridden a randonee. 

After I had described my trip his partner turned to him and said, in the style of a less posh Hyacinth Bouquet and without any curtains to twitch; "That's not as far as YOU went on YOUR ride". The guy very skillfully acknowledged the truth of her remark, while at the same time ignoring it and continuing to discuss my trip with me as if she had never said it. 

"They must have been together a long time" I thought.

He was very helpful to me and offered his advice about cycling back to Caernarfon, which shortly after I didn't take!

NCN8 was just a few seconds around the corner as I headed out towards Caernarfon. On the edge of town I  took a right fork towards Beddgelert in Snowdonia. There is a road around the back of Snowden (A4085) that goes up to Caenarfon, and I thought I would easily be able to find a campsite in an area famous for camping.

Turned out not to be so easy. There were none at all on the main road into Beddgelert. The Polish hiker I chatted to outside a shop thought there were some on the way out to Llyn Dinas. I wished him luck and turned up the A4805 towards Caenarfon. Well out of the town, Beddgerlert Campsite appeared to have plenty of space available among its heavily wooded acres, but I got a "no room at the inn" response from the officious duty manager.

To be fair I had not booked and it was a Bank Holiday Weekend, but she wasn't doing a solo cycle tourer any favours either. National Trust campsites are obliged to host backpackers and bikepackers arriving under their own steam; this wasn't a NT site! I scouted some likely wild camping spots nearby but decided to press on. 

Round the back of Mount Snowden (to the left)

It was a golden evening to be riding through Snowdonia, to my right the western flank of the eponymous mountain bathed in a mellow haze as I rode by. 

There was a lot of climbing to do, but no extremely steep hills. Around Llyn Cwellyn I considered some more likely camping locations but nothing felt right, everywhere looked like it would be cold and damp. I needed to find a campsite.

At Betws Garmon, practically in Caernarfon, I came across the sprawling  Bryn Gloch. It was a large highly organised campground catering for tents and caravans, the type run by accountants for private equity companies. In the office there were many staff members about, mostly young adults. 

After a short wait, the older manager called me over and he checked over his computer looking for a pitch. He gave me a few "oohs" and "aahs", pointing out that it was a Bank Holiday Weekend ...then said he had a spot next to the effluent drainage for £32. 

"£32!!!" I exclaimed. 

"Ok, £25 then" he immediately replied. 

Bargain!

Perfect pitch next to the "barbeque"!!!

It was a lengthy ride on the winding road through the tent and caravan city. My pitch was perfectly flat on neatly trimmed grass, with a backdrop of tall fruit-laden blackberry bushes that I used to tie up the back of my tarp. The impressive brick structure adjacent to me could've been the best barbeque in the world, I imagined. At least it was not leaky!

The clean and smart portable bathroom units were right next door, so there was a fair throughput of fellow campers at peak times. I overheard the grumblings about showers being cold or not working elsewhere on the site and there was a "great location, shame about the campsite" comment too. 

My shower was working and even better still, warm too.

The mozzies were beginning to swarm as the light faded. A tumbling Snowdonia stream ran behind the campsite so it was a night for putting my bug net to good use. 

I was glad I had not pitched my tarp under a bush next to Llyn Cwellyn!

Route Day Five: Aberdaron to Betws Garmon