Day 7: Day Six Revisited

The morning of Day 7 is a beautiful one. The holiday is now rapidly approaching its end and I have two choices: towards Llandudno and the North, which would allow me to visit Llandudno on a beautiful day; or on the route I had programmed for yesterday, before punching the tire. I also need to make time for Portmeirion, as the day will be ideal and I will not have another chance to see the village in the afternoon (I am a great fan of the “magic hour”, defined as around 30 minutes before and 30 minutes after sunset) .

I decide for the second option, and I am soon riding on the very road when I have punched the tire just hours before (yes, it’s  not a good sensation; and yes, I know I can have a flat tire anywhere and anytime).

Therefore, from Harlech I set towards Barmouth on A496, again riding the stretch of not-so-coastal road which the Wales Tourist Board calls actually “coastal”. The sea is far away, but the road affords beautiful views anyway. The sunny day contributes to the contrast with the gray and dreary weather, and with the anger of the day before.

From Barmouth, the road goes inland to get around an estuary called the Afon Mawddach and remains always interesting, alternating water views and forest stretches. I follow it all the way to Dolgellau before getting on the proper coastal, south west part of the road again. A bit after Tywyn, the “trick” is repeated again, with the road going eastward and inland to Machynlleth. Machynlleth is quite nice, and its Town Clock (a tower with an arch below; very British!) is the most striking monument of a nice, evidently fairly prosperous, well-polished little town.

Machynlleth (Google)

From Machynlleth I ride down to the attraction of the day, Aberystwyth. This is, I am told, one of the favourite spots in Wales, and one understand why as in this Friday morning it has a relaxed, every-day-is-a-holiday atmosphere that does not fail to impress. A part of me would like to stop, have a stroll and take some pics. The other part tells me that this is the last full day and I am here because I want to know Wales by… riding its roads. Therefore, no stop in Aberystwyth and south it is toward Aberaeron. This one is another coastal town with the same character (at least to my eyes) as Barmouth: coastal, peaceful, nice. I imagine there must be a lot of happy retired people here, and certainly as a biker there are worse places to settle. Still, the winter months must be pretty long down here.

Up to now, the road has given frequent views of the sea, which is as picture postcard perfect as is the sunny morning. After Aberaeron I decide to continue to Cardigan and then way down to St David’s. Unfortunately, a car accident causing a total road block means Armageddon. The “locals” go for the parallel road and I eagerly follow them, but this one is another of those “single track” darn affairs. When a tractor comes my way and then a truck tries to open its ways through the narrow lane, it is a scene from a Hollywood catastrophe movie. I lose about 40 minutes there, and when I finally extricate myself from the mess and ride to Cardigan it is late enough to persuade me to make of this the southernmost point on the Coastal Road. I ride a while around Cardigan, though, which proves very similar to the other coastal towns seen up to now. To be living in, I would prefer Aberystwyth, though, as it gives me the impression that it has more to offer – particularly in the winter months – besides being nearer to Snowdonia AONB.

The ride back tries to emulate the morning, but Armageddon is still going on and I have to extricate myself from it again as the satnav tries to put me back on the main road, which is closed for miles on end. After some aimless wandering around ending in another road block, I decide to just ride away ignoring the satnav altogether for a good 30 minutes until I am sure that I am way outside of every possible road block. I therefore have no idea of where I rode, though I remember a number of forests, numerous little villages and no sight of the sea at all. At some point I am back on dear A470, and I know it will be uninterrupted fun until home.

I am home way after the usual lunch time, and with 224 miles on the bike in around 7.5 hours. I have a very, very late lunch, but cannot call it a day because Portmeirion is waiting.

Portmeirion is quite something, and it is unlike everything I have ever seen before. It is not a proper “village”, though it is indicated as such in the road maps. Rather, it is a holiday resort open to the (paying) public. It has a hotel and some 30 cottages for rent. It is a sort of “ideal village” in Italianate style, perched on a hang but still quite walkable unless you are too old for decent walking anyway.  In the afternoon light it is quite spectacular, and it would be perfect it I had had high tide instead of the muddy affair I can see in the distance.  I will let the pictures below talk. It is well worth the admission price.

A glorious day of 315 miles (and this is no transfer day!) goes to an end. Tomorrow is,  very likely, back home.

Very sadly, not one single Moto Guzzi sighted.