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

Tuesday May 5th 2015 - Packing up and feeling frazzled

When I woke that morning the wind was back and if anything it was worse than the day I arrived on site, though the sun arrived as the morning progressed. After the first dog walk and a leisurely breakfast I tidied everything away then made a start on dismantling my home and packing all the stuff back into the van, with the dogs securely zipped into their bedroom while I was doing it - the last thing I wanted was for Poppie to make another great escape. When I eventually unzipped the top of the bedroom pod I found them both sharing the same bed for the first time since Poppie came to me, and they looked so cute and comfy I couldn't resist taking a quick snap before I disturbed them. 

With the two of them out of the way in the back of the van I turned my attention to the tent - and that's when things decided to go pear-shaped. With most of the pegs taken out it was only anchored at both ends and before I had chance to disconnect any of the poles from their rings the wind got hold of it, wrenched it from the remaining pegs and blew it down to the bottom end of the field, where it lodged itself up against the hedge. 

Grabbing the first pole I could get hold of I dragged the tent back towards the van but the wind was so strong it blew it towards the hedge a second time, with me hanging on to it for dear life and praying it wouldn't end up getting damaged. I was just glad I hadn't already taken the poles out, as without the weight of those it would probably have gone soaring over the hedge and disappeared into oblivion. As it was, there was no way I could possibly deal with it on my own in such a strong wind without risking it blowing away again, so I dragged it across to the caravan on the other side of the field and asked the couple there if they could help me with it, which they were quite happy to do. So while she sat on one end to anchor it he and I got the poles out, then between the three of us it was folded, rolled and squashed into a bundle which was fastened with a couple of bungee straps. It didn't look particularly neat but at that stage of the game I didn't care, I was just glad it was still in one piece and back in the van.

After a quick check round the pitch for any forgotten tent pegs I took the dogs for a last walk round the site; I would normally have taken them down on the beach for their final walk of the holiday but even in the sunshine it was far too windy to be pleasant so a walk round the site would have to do. Over on the mainland it wasn't quite as windy and the drive home in the sunshine was good; with no delays I was back just after 3pm and feeling a lot less frazzled than when I left the site. 

With an hour or so to spare before work I spent some time fixing the three split pole sections; eventually I'll get them replaced but with tape wrapped securely round them they should last for a while longer. As for the weather - well I can honestly say that in the five years I've been camping solo, even though I've experienced more than one bout of high wind that's the first time I've ever really been adversely affected by it. So has it put me off? No chance, I can't wait for my next holiday!

Monday May 4th 2015 - Lligwy beach, Port Lynas & Llanddona

I woke early that morning to something I didn't want to hear - rain on the tent, but by the time I got up it had stopped and the sun was coming out. The wind had dropped and it turned into a really nice morning with blue sky and fluffy white clouds; studying the map book for somewhere to go I saw what seemed to be a lane leading down to the far end of Lligwy beach so I thought I'd have a look there to see if I could get some different photos to the ones I've taken on previous visits to Lligwy. Somehow though, things didn't quite work out like that.

I knew which lane I needed to turn down from the main road and I followed its twists and turns for quite a distance, passing a couple of camping/caravan sites on the way, but I didn't seem to be getting anywhere near the beach, and when I went past one of the camp sites for the second time I came to the conclusion that I'd been mistaken and what I'd seen on the map book didn't actually go as far as I'd thought; maybe access to the beach at that point was only through that camp site. Not wanting to waste the journey I headed back towards the main road and took the route which I would normally use to get to Lligwy beach, parking up at the side of the lane just before the beach car park, then with camera in hand I went for a wander through the dunes and snapped a few photos.

My next port of call was the little bay of Port Lynas; I'd been there a couple of times in previous years but never actually gone down onto the beach, and as it was dog friendly I thought it might be a good place to take Sophie and Poppie. Leaving the van in the free parking area I walked down the hill to the bay; the tide was in, and with a rocky outcrop jutting out across the narrow beach about halfway along there wasn't much sand left to walk on so I just stayed in the vicinity of the access slope. As usual Sophie only ventured into the water just far enough to get her feet wet, but Poppie was a bit more curious and spying a clump of brightly coloured seaweed floating below the surface she went a bit deeper and tried to catch it between her paws.

Just to the left of where I was a stream came from somewhere under the road and tumbled down over the rocks at the end of the beach. Poppie decided to explore round there and while she was playing - at the end of a long cable as I didn't want to risk her running off again - I managed to get a few photos of her. That's the first time since I got her that she's really been anywhere near any water and to watch her playing made me think that she doesn't have the same dislike of it that Sophie does. 

When both dogs had finished exploring and playing I made my way back up the hill and sat in the van while thinking where to go next. The fluffy white clouds were beginning to gather into big patches over that part of the island so I decided to drive back to the main road and wherever the sky was bluest that's the direction I would go in. The south of the island looked to be the clearest so I decided to head for Newborough beach but by the time I'd got to the other end of the island the cloud had followed me, the sun had gone in and the blue sky had disappeared - beach photography was obviously out of the question so as I wasn't far from the model village I went there instead.

The entrance fee was only £3, which rather surprised me as I expected it to be at least double that, though once I got in there I realised why. Although the models were quite well done the place wasn't that big and within fifteen minutes I'd seen everything so I went round again to make sure I hadn't missed anything. I did get a handful of photos but to be honest I've seen bigger and better model villages elsewhere.

From there I decided to head back to the camp site but with a detour en route to see if I could get to a beach which, for one very good reason, I hadn't yet explored. It was at the bottom of a high hill and both routes to it were winding and extremely steep single track lanes with very few passing places - I didn't fancy taking the van and meeting something coming the other way, regardless of whether I was going down or up. My thoughts were that if I could find somewhere to park at the top of the hill I could walk down to the beach, and as it turned out that idea proved to be quite successful.

Instead of following the route through Llanddona village itself I took the other route and managed to find a convenient place to park near the telephone mast right on top of the hill; a signpost told me that the beach was a mile from there so with the dogs on the lead I set off on my quest. Even with the cloudy sky it was quite a pleasant walk and when I finally got to the bottom I was met by a vast stretch of sand and shingle backed by a handful of private houses and bungalows and with the road running between. 

There was nothing particularly exciting about the beach - though maybe it would look nicer if the sun was shining - so I just walked to the far end of the road where there was a little cafe, then turned and retraced my steps back up the hill to the van. Not far from the top of the hill was an open field with a view over the bay so I took a photo from there just to show how far down the beach really was. 

Those were to be my last photos of the day; I drove back to the camp site, and even though the sun did decide to put in another appearance later on I didn't feel like going out again so I spent the remainder of the afternoon and evening watching tv and reading my book. Three of the four families occupying some of the caravans over the weekend, plus a couple of families at the other side of the hedge, had packed up and gone while I'd been out, leaving just one couple across the other side of the field, so my final night was guaranteed to be a very quiet one.

Sunday May 3rd 2015 - Penrhos Coastal Park

I woke that morning to a grey day and more wind, although it wasn't quite as bad as the day before and at least the tent was still intact. Over breakfast I pondered where to go in such grey weather, and though I didn't think the car boot sale on the showground would be on because of the wind I decided to chance it and go anyway; I had to make a brief visit to Asda which was on the way so to drive a little bit further was neither here nor there. 

As I drove up the hill a couple of miles out of the village I ran into mist, which surprised me as the camp site, village and coast were completely clear; the further inland I got the thicker the mist became, and by the time I got to the showground it was more fog than mist. The car boot sale as I know it certainly wasn't on although there were a few stalls in the inside bit so I had a quick look round there then continued up the A5 to the Stermat store at Valley as I needed to get some gas cartridges for my camping stove. Of course a visit to Stermat isn't complete without having a good look round and as well as the gas cartridges I managed to find a few other bits and pieces which would come in handy for camping.

From Stermat I drove the mile-and-a-bit across the embankment to Penrhos coastal park for my usual visit to Pete's burger bar; the car park was quite busy but I managed to find a space facing the bay, although I couldn't really see anything because the mist was so thick. With the map book open across my lap I tried to think where else to go but nowhere came to mind so I decided to pay a visit to my friends Louise and Derek who lived not far from Penrhos. Now I must have only been studying the map book for ten minutes, probably less, but when I looked up again it was to find that the mist had completely gone and there was a clear blue sky and bright sunshine - now where on earth had that come from so quickly?? So the decision was made to walk the dogs round the coastal park and explore some paths I hadn't been down before.

The first part of my walk took me past some of the beaches and rocky coves of the bay then I turned inland for a short distance before taking a path which took me round the headland in the direction of Holyhead. With the sea on my right and fields of sheep on the left it was a very pleasant walk in the sunshine and it was hard to believe that not long ago the whole area was covered in a thick mist with visibility being almost zilch. Not knowing just how far the path went I probably only walked for half a mile or so before turning round and retracing my steps, then crossing over my original route I took a path into the woods.

This was a part of the woods I hadn't previously been through and as I wandered along random paths I discovered various old stone walls, monuments and follies which were once part of the original country estate from centuries ago. There were bluebells everywhere, growing in large patches among the trees, and at one point I found a small clump of lovely pink flowers nestling in the undergrowth. My walk eventually ended at the duck pond next to the car park; I knew I hadn't explored the woods as much as I probably could so I would certainly make a return visit another time to see what else I could find in there.

Back at the van I gave the dogs a drink then set off on the short drive to Louise and Derek's place. I did think that they may be away themselves with it being a bank holiday weekend but they weren't, so Derek made a brew and we settled down for a good catch-up of all our respective news. It was great to chat but they were going out for a meal later on with other friends so I didn't stay too long. When I left I had a choice of three routes back to the camp site - back down the A5, down the A55 expressway, or all the way round the coast road. I chose the A55 as it was much quicker, and I was back at the tent in half an hour.

Having had quite a substantial lunch from Pete's burger bar I only needed to fix myself a quick snack then I spent the evening watching a dvd and reading my book; a brief dog walk round the site later on and that was it, time for bed. In spite of the morning being grey and misty the day had turned out to be lovely and I'd got some good photos, so I kept my fingers crossed that the following day would turn out to be just as nice.

Saturday May 2nd 2015 - Off to Anglesey, getting wet, and Poppie in disgrace

An early morning at 5.45am saw me leaving home for my first trip this year to Anglesey. I'd left the van packed up from my Easter weekend so I only had to add the coolbox and food, personal items and the dogs and I was ready for off. With very little traffic on the roads the journey was easy and the weather, although dull, was fine - that was until I was going along the A55 coast road opposite Anglesey, when I ran into fine rain, and looking across the Menai straits I could see that the island was shrouded in dark grey heavy rain clouds. Not what I really wanted, but I was too close to my destination to turn round and go back home so I just hoped it wouldn't stay like that all weekend.

I got to the site just after 8am expecting not to see anyone in reception but the warden's partner was there so I booked in, exchanged my 12-month barrier pass from last year for a new one, and drove through to find myself a pitch in my usual small field, but when I got there I was both surprised and disappointed to find that almost the whole field had been taken over by seasonal caravans which were all using the hook-up points. It looked like I would have to find somewhere else to pitch, but a quick walk round showed that I was in luck - there was just one hook-up point available towards the bottom end of the field. The ground was slightly sloping but it would do so I drove the van over, selected the flattest bit for the tent and put the footprint groundsheet down.

It was while I was threading the poles through the sleeves on the tent that what had previously been a light breeze turned into a strong wind which did its best to scupper my chances of getting the thing upright. At one point I felt like I was fighting a losing battle - every time I stood the tent up at one end the other end blew back down in spite of the temporary guy line holding it. Patience was wearing thin and I almost gave up but I persevered and finally, in spite of sustaining three split pole sections, I got the tent up and pegged down securely at all points; I just hoped that the combination of the wind and the three split pole sections didn't mean the thing would collapse later on. Throughout all this it was raining steadily and after I'd been to and from the van several times in the process of transferring my stuff into the tent I looked like more than the proverbial drowned rat. My thick jacket was soaked through, as was my zip top and t-shirt, my jeans, underwear, trainers and socks, and my once-curly hair was a lank wet mess plastered to my head - I was, quite literally, soaked to the skin, which wasn't a pretty sight.

With my bed made up and everything else set out in the tent I released the dogs from the back of the van and as I couldn't really get any wetter than I already was I took them for a walk round the site. By this time it was getting towards noon and as I'd had no breakfast other than a quick brew before I left home I was feeling more than a little peckish, so back at the tent I changed into some dry clothes, dried my hair, made a mug of coffee and some sandwiches and settled in for a few hours of drying out all my wet stuff in front of the heater.

It was late afternoon by the time the rain finally stopped so I decided to take the dogs for a walk to the village and back, but with the grass being so wet I needed to put my wellies on - and it was while I was getting them from the back of the van (which only took a few seconds) that Poppie decided to squeeze out through a gap in the outer door of the tent and run off up the field. As much as I called her she wouldn't come back so I grabbed the lead and went after her but she just kept running - into the next field, through the hedge, along the path to the main part of the site, through another hedge; and so it went on. Every so often she would stop and look at me, then just as I thought she was going to come back she would run off again. This was getting me nowhere so I decided to go back to the tent in the hope that she would follow and she did, but she only came so far; I even put some food in her bowl and showed it to her to tempt her but she just looked and ran off again - if she could have put two fingers up at me I'm sure she would have done. 

In desperation I put some food in Sophie's bowl and put both bowls out on the grass in front of the tent and bingo! - when Poppie saw Sophie eating her supper she abandoned her game and came back, and while she had her head in her own bowl I clipped her lead on. She'd been leading me a merry dance for almost half an hour and I wasn't risking her doing it again. Needless to say I wasn't very happy with her, and after having walked round a big part of the site more than once in my efforts to catch her my planned walk to the village was abandoned. But it was a lesson learned - where Sophie and Sugar would stay put even with the tent door open obviously Poppie won't, so I must remember to make sure that both the inner and outer doors are fully zipped up if I need to get something from the van in future.

After that little unwanted adventure I spent the evening watching a bit of tv and reading some of my book, then when the long day began to take its toll I took the dogs for a quick last walk of the day and retreated to my bed for the night. It was still windy but the tent was holding up and the rain was managing to stay away so hopefully we would get through to the morning with no disasters and the following day would be a good one. 

Tuesday April 7th 2015 - Time to go home

There was another mild ground frost when I took the dogs for their first early morning walk but it soon disappeared when the sun arrived and by the time I'd had breakfast the tent was warming up nicely without the need for the heater. It looked like it was going to be another lovely day and I really wanted to go off exploring again but unfortunately I had to go home. With no rush to leave my pitch I took my time in packing up and just before I dismantled the tent I took the dogs for another walk round and took a few photos of the site.

With the tent down and finally stashed in the van and the dogs settled in the back I drove slowly along the track and out of the site for the last time - and for some strange reason I felt as if I was leaving a little piece of myself behind.

Heading along the A5 towards Llangollen I realised that my breakfast had worn off and I was feeling rather peckish so I stopped in the lay-by across the road from the Toll Gate Cafe and went to get a coffee and a cheeseburger, which I took back to the van and ate while enjoying the surrounding scenery. The views were just too good to miss so before I set off again I had a quick walk along the lay-by and snapped a couple of shots.

The rest of the journey went without any problems or traffic delays and I was back home within a couple of hours, still in glorious sunshine. As I downloaded my photos to the pc that evening I thought back over the last few days. This had been Poppie's first camp, and apart from the whingeing in the van she had behaved beautifully with not a sound from her while in and around the tent; the weather had been glorious, I'd been to some nice places, got some good photos, and stayed at a lovely little site which I'd never been to before - and the peace and tranquility of Felin Uchaf guarantees I'll make a return in the not-too-distant future.

Monday April 6th 2015 - Porthmadog & Borth-y-Gest

There was a chill in the air and a touch of frost on the grass when I took the dogs for their early morning walk just after 6am but the sun soon chased it away and by mid morning the day was warming up nicely. I'd originally planned to go to Llyn Brenig, a lake which I'd seen featured on a tv fishing programme and which I thought looked nice, but after reading a leaflet about it the previous day I thought there may not be enough there to hold my attention for more than half an hour - and the car park fees weren't cheap either - so I decided to have a change of direction and go back to the coast, this time to Porthmadog.

The first part of my route took me along the A494 back to Bala but instead of going through the town and past the lake I turned west along the A4212. Several miles along I came to Llyn Celyn and a convenient roadside lay-by where I could stop to take a couple of snaps of the views across the lake. A bit further on still I discovered Capel Celyn Memorial Chapel, a small semi-circular stone building with a square front and tiny windows, and with a small graveyard at the rear. Later information told me that back in 1965 the small village of Capel Celyn and the adjacent valley were flooded to create the reservoir, and many of the stones from the original chapel were used to construct the new memorial chapel. From the outside I couldn't really tell if it was derelict or actually in use, but it was in very a peaceful place overlooking the lake and worth a photo.

My journey to Porthmadog continued with no further stops and as I knew where I was going from a previous visit four years ago I headed straight for the large car park behind the main road near the station, then with four hours on the car park ticket I released the dogs from the back of the van and set off to explore. On my previous visit I'd only briefly looked round one side of the harbour so this time I crossed the bridge which carried the main road and went to look round the other side. A small development of private houses and apartments bordered the harbour and when I walked through to the far side I was surprised to see that although the inner harbour was perfectly clear the outer harbour was partially shrouded in a thin sea mist - that didn't really help the photography so I retraced my steps and contented myself with a few shots of the inner harbour.

Back on the other side of the harbour I walked further round than I had done previously and behind a shop selling marine supplies I found a single track tarmac lane. There were several people walking along in each direction - it must lead somewhere so with curiosity aroused, but not knowing how long the lane was, I kept on walking.  Past another marine supplies place, a business dealing in boat engines and a small development of modern harbourside apartments the lane finally came to a dead end with a path leading up the grassy bank on the right. At the top was a small estate of older houses and bungalows with a narrow road going down the far side of the hill, and at the bottom was a small bay backed by colourful cottages and houses. A handful of boats were beached on the sand and from somewhere under the road a stream emerged and ran across the beach; this looked like a lovely little place and I was glad I'd decided to follow the lane from the harbour.

Walking round the curve of the bay to the far side I found a small car park which was free, and an information board which told me this was Borth-y-Gest, presumably part of Porthmadog itself but looking very much like a small village in its own right. Across the road from the beach were two small tea rooms but both places were full with no room at any of the outside tables so any thoughts of coffee and cake were immediately abandoned. 

At the far side of the car park a path went up the hill and round the nearby headland so I decided to take a look. Following the contours of the coast, with sandy coves down below, the path seemed to go on for ever but the sea mist put paid to any photography so I didn't walk too far before I turned round and retraced my steps. Walking back around the bay I snapped a few photos then headed back up the hill towards the harbour, where the mist was beginning to drift into the inner reaches. 

Returning to the van I gave the dogs a drink then set off for Black Rock Sands, another part of Porthmadog. I hadn't a clue what was there but I'd been told by someone at work that it was nice and I would be able to park right on the beach so I thought I may as well take a look. The road took me through the town and out the other side, and a left turn took me down a long straight lane to the beach - except when I got there I couldn't even see it; the sea mist had turned into a thick fog which shrouded the whole area and visibility was down to almost nothing. A board at the side of the lane told me that the parking charge was £5 for all day but with nothing to see there was no point staying so I turned the van round and headed back up the lane and back into the sunshine.

Driving back towards the town I saw a sign for Borth-y-Gest so decided to go back there; if I could get a space in the car park I could leave the dogs in the van and hopefully get some coffee and cake at one of the tea rooms. The decision was a good one; the little bay was still clear of any mist and I managed to find a parking space with no trouble and a vacant inside corner table at the second of the tea rooms, so I was soon demolishing a decent-sized slice of carrot cake and a mug of latte coffee while deciding what to do next.

I still had over an hour left on the original car park ticket so I drove back there, parked up again and went for a wander. Across the road and up a mile-long embankment at the far side of the harbour bridge was the Ffestiniog narrow gauge steam railway with a gravel pathway running alongside the line, which gave me good views over the former tidal estuary of Traeth Mawr. I walked about two thirds of the way across before turning round, and with another few shots taken I headed back to the van for the last time that day.

The drive back to the camp site was very pleasant in the late afternoon sun, and with the van parked up for the night and the heater on in the tent I made a brew and something to eat then settled in to while away some time with my book. While I'd been out the few other campers on site had gone, leaving just one couple in a caravan on the next pitch; the site was a very quiet place anyway but it was even more so that night, and when I took the dogs for their last walk at dusk it was to nothing more than the sound of the river and the occasional hoot of an owl.

Sunday April 5th 2015 - Castell Dinas Bran (Crow Castle)

A grey early day gradually turned brighter as time went on and by mid morning the sun was shining and the sky was blue with bits of fluffy white cloud. I didn't need to plan where I was going that day, I'd already decided that if the weather was nice enough I would do something I failed to do last year - get to Castell Dinas Bran up on top of the high hill overlooking Llangollen. First though, I wanted to find the waterfall which was close to the camp site.

Just outside the site entrance, and about halfway along the farm track, a footpath wound its way down the hill through the woods and along by the river at the bottom of the steep bank behind the tent pitches. Skirting round the edge of the site owner's private land and garden the path took me right to the waterfall which was at the back of the owner's house; previous information had told me that the house had been built on the site of an old corn mill and the waterfall and river had once provided power to the mill. With leaves on the surrounding trees it would be a very pretty place, and the pool at the bottom of the waterfall would even have been deep enough for a refreshing swim.

Back at the tent I put the dogs in the van, collected my spare camera batteries and anything else I might need then set off for Llangollen and my quest to get to Dinas Bran. Just like last year the town centre car parks in Llangollen were full when I got there but I had no intention of spending ages driving round hoping for a space to come vacant - I drove through the town, over the canal bridge and up the lane beyond until I found a suitable place to leave the van at the roadside, which was only a five minute walk from the start of the footpath up to Dinas Bran.

Right from the start at road level the footpath went steeply uphill and only a few minutes into the walk I knew I was right not to walk up with the dogs last year - little Sugar would never have made it more than a couple of hundred yards. About two thirds of the way up was a fairly level plateau which offered a respite from the climb so I took a few minutes to snap a few photos and renew my energy before tackling the last and steepest part of the climb.

Even though there was a zig-zag path to make things a bit easier it didn't go all the way to the top and the final couple of hundred yards were steeper than ever - I was just glad that I had two fit and strong little dogs to pull me up the last bit to the very top. Being up there was like being on top of the world and I could see for miles in all directions, but the clouds had closed in a bit and the views across to the Dee valley in the east weren't as clear as they could have been; the sun was still shining through though so I still managed to get some reasonably good photos.

The descent back down the hill was definitely much easier than going up, though I had to watch that the dogs didn't pull me down any faster than I wanted to go - sliding out of control down the steep shingle path wasn't really on the agenda just then. We made it back to road level in one piece though and as we all needed a drink by then I headed for Llangollen's main street and the Courtyard Cafe where I knew I could sit outside. With Sophie and Poppie having lapped up copious amounts of water from the bowl by the cafe door and my thirst quenched by a mug of good coffee - without the cake this time - I had a brief look round the shops then made my way back to the van. It was still only mid afternoon but after my strenuous walk I didn't really feel like going anywhere else so I decided to go back to the tent and chill out for the rest of the day.

As I drove away from Llangollen I decided on the spur of the moment to make a quick return to Horseshoe Falls a couple of miles out of the town - having been rather disappointed with the place last year I wondered if it looked any better this time. It did - marginally - as there was no rubbish in the river like last time, but there were still lots of dead tree branches sticking out of the water which rather spoiled the look of the place. Maybe it would look better with leaves on the surrounding trees, but having been twice now and not being terribly impressed on either occasion I'm not sure if I would want make a third visit later in the year.

Back at the tent I spent some time chatting to my camping neighbours then as the warmth went out of the sun I retreated inside for the evening, only coming out again to take the dogs for a last short walk before the daylight disappeared. After our strenuous walk up to Dinas Bran I think they were just as tired as I was so needless to say it was an early bed for all three of us that night. Would I do that walk again another time? Maybe not, as the ruins themselves will never be any different, but if there's an absolutely cloudless blue sky and I can get some better photos of the views then maybe I will - all I can say is never say never.