The city of Nice seen from the surrounding hillside bathed in sunshine

Home Travel StoriesBack Into North Wales 2015

Back Roads And Beaches

Blog Date - 30 April 2015

Waking up in the big plush bed is quite a different experience to waking up in a tent I can tell you. I need a pee. There's no wriggling out of a sleeping bag, finding my clothes, putting them on, walking half a mile to a freezing cold toilet and then making the return trip. Nope, I just flop out of bed, walk 5 paces to the en-suite bathroom, do my thing then flop back into bed. I could get used to this life of luxury.

looking out across mountains and the bay from the cottage
It's a hard life at times, terrible view from the cottage.

Dad's off shopping today which sounds as enticing as a camper's trip to the toilet on a cold and windy night. The gf and I dine on cereal for breakfast then get ready to ride. If I could choose any kind of weather I'd choose this kind of weather. Dry, bright, sunny but also thankfully not too warm. While we were warm in the cottage the condensation on the bike seats suggest it was very cold last night and this morning the day has not warmed up yet, I'll need a jumper for sure. Oh but what it is to look out across the sea and the mountains. It is a good day.

Sharon sits on her bike smiling and ready to ride the welsh roads
Well someone's excited and ready to hit the road.

We set off and I lead us further along the road by the cottage. We find lots of sheep that have escaped their field and seem too stupid to find their way back in via the open gate as we approach. We find a farm and a couple of stone houses and then a dead end. Not to worry, the best roads are often dead ends. Another route takes us past country homes and farmyards and onto the main A487. We have to up our speed to avoid blocking the road, this isn't what we want, this will not do.

I soon find another backroad, I've no plan at all I'm just wandering aimlessly with the gf in tow. That's better, we're back to cycling pace now, twisting through wooded glens, past fields, by cottages and over small bridges. I sense we're heading downhill and by the position of the sun I estimate we'll reach the coast sooner or later. I stop to take a few pictures here and there and retrieve my sunglasses as the glare flashes between the trees. There's no other traffic down this lane so we travel as we both see fit.

A stream babble through a valley filled with twisted and curious trees
We ride slowly so we can actually see the amazing surroundings.

For 20 minutes maybe half an hour I am clueless as to my location. Pffft, the worse case scenario is that we end up either at Caernarfon or the tip of the peninsula. I don't know where I am but I'm certainly not lost. I'm almost disappointed when I find the main road again and realise we are but a couple of miles west of Criccieth. Let me see if I can find the sea. There's a little more traffic here in as much as we see a handful of cars. Wales's rural roads are definitely quieter during the week rather than the weekend. 

We park the bikes at the end of another dead end lane so we can take a break and see what's there. As we unhelmet a lady is walking her dog down the path, I hope she doesn't object to our poor parking. Nope, she's positively welcoming, tells us it is but a short walk to the beach and uses my camera to take a snap of the gf and I. I lock the helmets to the bike and we take the short walk to the beach.

The beach is sunkist, broad and long with views across the bay and into the misty mountains. There's skimming stones here so I send a few out into the small waves of the calm waters, I don't do very well. We spend 15 minutes talking and looking around, noticing the tide has just turned and is on it's way out. I feel rather spoilt and selfish just doing nothing but mooching around on 2 wheels or two feet. Why do I feel guilt when I'm enjoying myself?

long broad beach with the welsh highlands in the hazy distance
Oh dear, the scenery just goes from bad to worse.

For no reason Pwllheli is our next port of call. I pull into a side road and stop. I tell the gf to take the lead. She doesn't like this idea at all but I think she's just GOT to learn to be in front, making choices and exploring for herself. I tell her not to worry about getting lost as that's the whole point. She reluctantly takes the lead. We take a detour down a back street, around the houses then end up at the Marina. 

This is a big marina! The actual watery bits with jetties running out to the moored boats isn't that big but there are hundreds and hundreds of boats in a collection of boatyards. There's everything from small ribs to massive luxurious catamarans, little training dinghies to sporty looking racing yachts. I've been to Pwllheli a few times but I didn't know all this was here. I'm also lead a merry detour through the town. Last time I was here I remember Pwllheli being drab and dull but today it is welcoming, clean and fairly smart. I suppose a little sunshine makes all the difference. In my helmet I thank the gf for leading me through town and re-introducing my to Pwllheli.

Pwhelli beach front with a row of tall houses and the gf smiling in her helmet
Pwllheli is so bad the gf just has to smile.

We're hungry. We pull into the Lidl  and step inside in search of a snack. They don't sell triangle sandwiches here, dagnammit. Not to worry we get a doughnut, a belgium bun and some packets of apple juice. I leave the gf looking after the bikes and pop over to the Co-op for some chicken mayo butties. We sit in our parking space having our picnic while receiving a few curious glances. £3.90 for a hearty snack and the pleasure of sitting in the now warm sunshine on a car park in Wales. That's how we roll, doncha know.

I take over the lead again. She's done herself proud but time is marching on and I don't want to end up in Birmingham if I just leave her to it. We make a whistle stop detour to Criccieth just to take some pictures. We take in a pee break at Llanbedrog beach for god measure. Last night the gf was thumbing through the little brochures that holiday lets like to place in a little basket. She'd spotted "Black Rock", a beach where you can still drive your car onto the sands for your picnic. I've always wanted to ride my bike on sand, it looks like such jolly fun.

Sharon poses next to her bike in her supermodel style
"I'm a model, doncha know..." Poser.

Through Portmadog we find our way down a lane past endless static caravans on holiday parks. At the end I can see a vast sandy beach with the lane leading right into the light gold soft sand. Woohoo! I'm going to look just like a real Paris-Dakar rider blasting across the desert!. Never having ridden across sand any deeper than a builder's spillage I slow down, ever cautious, before I hit the first sands across the concrete road. Whoa!! I slither and slip, almost dropping the bike but I manage to hoist upright with a heave on my left leg. Well I did suspect it might be slippery but steady on. How's the gf coping? 

I look in my mirror. She's at a 45 degree angle to the lane, I figure she's having the same issue, she's done blooming well to keep it upright. We park on the last few yards of concrete at the edge of the beach. I can tell she's scared herself a little but her humour is keeping her will strong. 

Now, let me make one thing clear. If you think you can come to Black Rock with your crosser and rip the beach up then you're wrong. There's 10mph speed limit signs everywhere, even on this quiet day there's a good few families with small kids playing next to their cars and we did see a couple of official looking 4x4's presumably ready to call the police if anyone's causing motorised havoc. I work out straight away that this is not a racetrack. Still, I've got to have a play.

Getting a 125 with skinny tyres up to 10mph is nigh on impossible on the soft dry sand near the dunes. In fact staying upright is hard work, I'm wishing I was on a Suzuki Van Van right now. However the damp flat sands where the tide has been are much easier. Riding across this feels steady but I can feel the tyres moving around a little and I know any sudden or harsh manoeuvres will see me crashing into the salty grit. It is a most peculiar feeling. I keep to the 10mph limit, steer well away from the 2 horse riders and far from the cars. I return along the dry soft sands, determined to master the art of desert riding. After almost dropping the bike countless times and getting nowhere fast I decide to cancel my solo crossing of the Sahara Desert next year.

Ren struggles to keep his bike upright at black rock sands
Whoa! Holy cow how do I keep this thing upright? (pic courtesy of Sharon Parker)

Instead we sit near the bikes on a dune. We just sit and talk. We watch as a young girl is bucked off her horse into the sand, she's OK. We watch as the official looking 4x4's patrol the beach and fix a sign. It's not like me to sit still for long but today it feels OK. Does that mean I'm getting old? I just don't feel the need to rush, I don't feel the need to be elsewhere, I'm not bored. Even so, after half an hour I decide it's probably time to head back to the holiday let. The gf's a little pensive about crossing the sand that's drifted across the lane. Silly girl, she crosses it like a Dakar veteran.

Back at the cottage Dad greets us and furnishes us with a welcome brew. This evening my Uncle B is due to join us and I'm looking forward to this. It's been quite some time since I last saw him. He used to be a policeman and used to ride police motorcycles, undercover at times. The evening is spent eating a meal prepared by my Dad and his wife and catching up with my uncle and his wife. There's talk of cruises, a history lesson regarding my grandfather's military service during the war, memories of past events and future plans. 

As we dine and chatter the sun slowly sets and bedtime approaches. It's not cold in the cottage, the toilet is within easy reach and my bed will be soft and comfortable. I like camping because it is cheap, versatile and challenging at times but I do rather like having all the mod cons too. It is a contrast, and I like contrasts. I don't really want to go home tomorrow. Damn.

Stumbling Into Wales It was a great day to be on two wheels in Wales...as long as you ignore Ren's inability to park a motorcycle.
Back Roads And Beaches Our Dynamic Duo saunter and bimble around the beautiful back roads and beaches of The Llyn Peninsula.
Steam Trains And Biker Hang Outs Ren gets all sentimental around the Choo-choos our couple return via The Ponderosa

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