About Me

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Hi! I'm Eunice and I live in Bolton, Lancashire, with my two dogs Sophie and Sugar and an assortment of cats - well it used to be Sophie and Sugar, now it's Sophie and Poppie. I first began camping back in 1997 when my then partner took me to Anglesey for my birthday weekend. We slept in the back of the car - a hatchback - using the cushions off the settee at home as a mattress, and cooked and brewed up on a single burner camping stove. The site was good, the views were great, the weather fantastic and I was completely hooked. Following that weekend we got a two-man tent and some proper accessories and returned to Anglesey two weeks later, then over time we progressed to a three-man tent followed by an old trailer tent, then a new trailer tent, a campervan and finally a caravan. When my partner decided that the grass was greener on the other side of the street - literally - in April 2009 and I suddenly found myself alone after fifteen years, I decided there was no way I was going to give up camping and caravanning if I could cope on my own. This blog is the story of my travels, trials and tribulations since becoming a solo camper - I hope you like it

Sunday July 14th 2013 - Rhoscolyn, Trearddur Bay, and a pile of stones

It was yet another very warm and sunny morning and after the usual dog walk, leisurely breakfast and consultation with the photography book I was off to the opposite side of the island. The first port of call though was the car boot sale on the Anglesey showground; with such great weather it was very busy and there were a lot of stalls to look round. As always I was on the lookout for mice to add to my ornament collection but although I saw the usual dogs, frogs, cats, pigs and owls I didn't find a single mouse, and with nothing else attracting my attention I didn't spend a single penny.

From the showground I headed up the A5 to Valley where I had my customary look round the Stermat store then headed west, and braving the extremely narrow single track lane with its several right-angled turns I arrived at Rhoscolyn. I'd only ever made one brief visit, three years previously, and there'd been hardly anyone there then, so I wasn't quite prepared for how many people were there this time. The car park was full, and with no way of turning round and going back I had to wait just inside the entrance until a space became available; fortunately I didn't have to wait too long and with the dogs on their leads I set off to explore the place properly.

A short sandy path led from the car park to the main beach and a high concrete sea wall with steps up to the top ran along the right hand side. There were rock pools at the bottom of the wall and at the top was a small field with half a dozen sheep and a footpath leading to the far end. Beyond the rock pools was another small beach and beyond that a narrow headland with three detatched houses with lovely gardens and yet another small beach at the far side. Just up the hill from there was a small enclave of a couple of dozen houses, presumably what passed for Rhoscolyn village; this little place was quite a surprise, and certainly not what I'd expected to see when I set out to explore. With several shots taken - which were nothing to do with the photography book - I made my way back to the main beach where I walked right to the far end before heading back through the dunes to the car park.


Having managed to negotiate my way back along the long winding lane to the main road without meeting something coming the other way I headed for Trearddur Bay where I wanted to search out a couple of shots which were in the book. I knew roughly where I needed to be so with only an hour on the car park ticket I set out to find the right spot; scrambling around a rocky promontory wasn't easy with the dogs in tow but I managed it without dropping either the camera or the book into the sea, and after fine-tuning my position I got two identical shots to the book ones, the only difference being the time of day when they were taken.


From Trearddur Bay I headed a couple of miles inland on the search for Lon Trefignath, an ancient burial chamber; following the book's directions it was easy enough to find and as it was only about fifty yards across the grass from where I parked I left the dogs in the van for once. To say that this thing was an ancient burial chamber there wasn't really much to it, and the pile of stones round the base looked more like something dumped haphazardly from a builder's wagon rather than something which supposedly was centuries old. However, I got the two photos I wanted, the difference this time being in the length of the grass in the foreground, then satisfied with the shots I returned to the van.


By that time my breakfast had long since worn off and I was feeling more than a little peckish so there was only one place to go - Pete's Burger Bar at Penrhos. I wasn't a million miles away from it so it only took five minutes to get there, and though the car park was busy I managed to find a space overlooking the bay. The cheeseburger, as always, was delicious and with a nicely chilled can of Coke I was more than satisfied. With nothing else planned I decided to head back to the camp site, this time via the A55, and spend the rest of the late afternoon and evening relaxing in and around the tent. Most of the weekend campers had gone by the time I got back there so the site was very quiet, and apart from an unoccupied caravan and a campervan in one corner I had all 'my' field to myself; if it had been quiet the previous night it would be even more so this time - just how I like it!