Not so Little Orme

I made way back over to Colwyn Bay and parked near the top of the town. I know the car park well because of my many (too many?) visits to Cambrian Photography just down the road. I popped in just to pick up a filter and some change for the car park. Note to visitors - the car parks in Wales seem to promise payment other than cash but rarely deliver. Keep a good supply of change on you.

The railway and the A55 cut you off from the prom so I had to head through the town parallel to the Coast Path for a while to reach it without backtracking too far. The town is a little more separate from the beach compared to its local rivals like Rhyl and Llandudno. It feels more part market town, part seaside resort for this reason.

The day was being unexpectedly bright and dry. The forecast had been less optimistic so it was a very late call. My walking buddy from the last leg, Derren, was trying to spot Dolphins in the Menai Straits so I was on my own. The sea front has had some recent development although some of this is to install parking meters. The parking is right along the from though, so access is good. The tide was right in and those bits of sand still remaining had attracted the local dog walking sub-culture.

The bay hooks round to North and blends into Llandrillo-yn-Rhos and Rhos-on-Sea which is pretty little area in its own right. Plenty of people were out enjoying walks on the prom or queueing for ice creams in the beach front shops. There name of Cayley kept popping up on shops and cafes which confused me at first until I discovered an information sign which explained the areas link to the pioneering aviator George Cayley.

Pub named after one of George Cayley’s groundbreaking (and ground-leaving) designs

At the head of the bay sits a large breakwater which shelters the town’s beach and provides a safe anchorage for local boats. It also provides a chance to see what marine creatures you can catch from the jetty.

As I rounded the headland you start to realise just how much shelter the bay was offering against the stiff Westerly. It had carried the potential rain away somewhere else but was still much in evidence as I turned West. Nestled into the bank lies the tiny St. Trillo’s Chapel - thought to be the smallest chapel in the UK. I think another old friend from school, David Lewis, might be the vicar here. I didn’t bump into David, but someone had done a very nice job with the flowers. Llandrillo is the Welsh translation of Trillo’s Church and, as well as the town, also lends its name to the large college which takes up much of the space adjacent to the coast along this stretch of the bay.

It was tough walking into the wind on this exposed stretch of the path. I was suffering from a lot of hat malfunctions. The chin strap was at least keeping it on my head but the brim either wanted to be a veil or pinned back along my forehead in a style not seen since Benny Hill graced our TV screens. The westerly wind meant the sea was relatively benign. When big winter storms roll through they really test the wide sea defences here. Occasionally you spotted patches of gravel on the street furniture at an elevation they had no right to be.

However, today the waves were not troubling the sea defences and only a few white horses made an appearance in the bay between me and the Ormes. It occurred to me as I approached them that I didn’t really know where the word Orme comes from. I wasn’t aware of there being more Ormes in the UK but it had never occurred to me to check. This is despite being able to see them from my bedroom window as I grew up. Wikipedia reckons it comes from the Norse word for Sea Serpent. This seems suitably poetic for the only place in Wales to get a mention in a Marvel movie to the best of my knowledge - bonus points if you know which. Whether the serpentine shape of the two headlands was enough to dissuade the Vikings from their very aggressive form of tourism I don’t know. The Welsh names have no such monsterous connotations. The term “Orme” has always been one preferred more by seafarers than landlubbers.

I battled on against the wind just like the golfers on the Rhos-on-Sea Golf Club. I imagine there were a few more dropped pars than usual in the conditions. Still, the scenery is pretty good while you search for your ball.

As you reach the end of the Little Orme, the path leaves the coast and you start to head uphill on the road towards Penrhyn. I missed the turning that takes you into a residential estate that carries the path when the tide is in and had to backtrack a bit. You have to follow the road past all the neat houses and bungalows that must have a stunning view of the bay. It feels a bit odd but persevere and the path picks up again at the estate boundary and takes you into the old quarry area of the Little Orme. The path crosses the flattened area and heads straight up the top but you really need to take a detour and walk to the end of the headland. Sat in a steep-sided horseshoe indentation is Angel Bay. Lot’s of people seemed to be sitting around watching something which drew my curiosity. It turns out they were watching the Grey Seals which frequent the bay. This was unknown to me due to my complete lack of prep for this leg of the walk. I fully intend to come back to Angel Bay some point a little better prepared.

Quarrying has left its scars on the Little Orme

After the flat coastal paths and the gentle rise to this point the next part of the walk comes as a bit of a shock. It is very steep for the next few hundred metres and I struggled for traction on the green grass of the slope - best to stick to the narrow gravel track. I caught my breath on the next plateau left by the quarry whether is a small shrine to the industrial past. Wherever you look here the views are stunning. Looking back I could see most of my Coast Path Walks laid out before me. I could even just make out the house where I grew up, sitting on the side of Moel Hirraddug at a similar elevation.

The path meanders around inland just short of the summit and the OS app is very useful here for sorting the path from the sheep tracks. It then starts to drop down the other side towards the A546 that squeezes through the high ground surrounding Penrhyn and drops down into Llandudno.

The path emerges onto the A546 and you follow the pavement down the hill towards the town. You still have enough elevation to give you a great view of the town, the beach and the Great Orme. The victorian pier reaches out far into the bay and the hotels follow the curve of the road and the wide promenade. This route allows Llandudno to make an “entrance” in a way the other seaside town don’t enjoy.

This area has a long history of human occupation but Llandudno the resort was a victorian invention. The influence of the Mostyn Estate helped it develop and then has ensured it has retained its period charm when other North Wales resorts have withered in the face of the cheap package holiday competition that arrived in the latter half of the 20th Century. It still has its grand hotels, pier and outdoor pool when so many others have disappeared or been redeveloped.

The 700m long pier is a listed building dating from 1877 …

The grandeur of its setting is undeniable. The brooding presence of the Great Orme is a terrific backdrop. The North Shore beach itself is stoney at least while the tide is high. The kid inside me still responds better to sand. Llandudno is set on a peninsular so actually has access to another beach on the West Shore but that is for another walk. As is the Great Orme. The headwinds had taken there toll and the offer of a lift from Derren as he returned for his (unfortunately dolphin-free) visit to the Straits was too good to pass up. We met up near the pier which was standing room only busy. Maybe it was the shelter from the wind offered by Y Gogarth or the delights of the Punch and Judy show, but it was heaving at that end of the bay. It made parking for Derren and finding each other a bit of a challenge. However, I’ll never complain about these seaside towns being too busy - such is the importance to the local economy of all the visitors.

Croeso i Gymru everyone.

… but Prof. Codman has been going since the 1860s