Detour #183: The Legends of the Wales Way, UK
Scotland has the North Coast 500, England has the South West 660 and Wales weighs in with 440 magical, mythical miles of the Wales Way.
The roar of the waterfall is deafening. I can feel its baritone in my bones as we inch down a trail slick with rain-swollen moss, spray from the rapids soaking the fleece of my jacket. Finally, Ceunant Mawr reaches a crescendo as we stop to gawk.
Arthur’s voice is lovely and lilting above the noise. “I’m here if you want a picture of me.”
I met the octogenarian three hours ago, a roadside meet-cute that’s taken me from the mist-shrouded massifs bordering the bends of the Llanberis Pass, to crumbling ruins once inhabited by disgraced princes and now, set back from a single-track blooming with weeds, this waterfall – one that looks as though it tumbles into the mouth of a guzzling giant.
I guess this is what you could call a detour; an unexpected intrusion of beauty from tugging a loose thread of possibility laid out on the road.
It’s the second of a five-day solo odyssey south to north and back again on the Wales Way, a collection of three self-drive touring routes launched by Visit Wales in 2017.
The Cambrian Way is the longest of this pick-and-mix. 185 miles of tarmac, it follows the mountainous spine of Wales from Cardiff to Llandudno, steering you through lowlands, highlands and two national parks. The Coastal Way in the west falls short of this by five miles, hugging the sea-green contours of Cardigan Bay. The North Wales Way speaks for itself; 75 miles of meandering by castles and coastline on the road from Mold to Holyhead.
I’m driving because of a question that can only be answered by setting off on a round-trip journey from my childhood home in the valleys of South Wales. If Scotland’s North Coast 500 is the best road trip in the UK, is this the second?
Yesterday, I started on the Cambrian Way from Blaenavon, driving for half a day before spending the night in the foothills of Cadair Idris, said to be the home of the fearsome red dragon that graces the flag of Wales. The road was tar-black thanks to the rainstorms that scored my pilgrimage north, starkly contrasting with the emerald trees and ochre hills that blurred my windows.
In terms of scenery, it’s high scores all around for the Wales Way.
This morning the road delivered me to Snowdon – to Arthur, and our serendipitous adventure. I say goodbye to my new friend late in the afternoon and jump back on the Cambrian Way to Conwy, awed by a haphazard sprawl of peaks and rocky valleys.
I cut west on the third leg of my drive, finally joining the North Wales Way. It’s charming, passing by pretty seaside towns, bountiful with historic sites. But, I find myself missing the open wildness of the Cambrian Way. I go off-route on a whim after crossing the Menai Bridge to Anglesey, slipping onto the A4080. I keep going until the winding country lanes run out on the island’s southern tip and find myself at Newborough Beach. The air is fragranced by pines, my tires cushioned by fallen needles.
The Wales Way has no shortage of spectacular rest stops no matter which route you choose. Here, in Newborough, the shoreline is littered with white seashells and across the water, I can see Snowdon and the Llŷn Peninsula.
I leave Anglesey, looping back onto the Cambrian Way. There’s blatant favouritism but mountains make for a stalwart companion on long drives and, on this branch of the Wales Way, there’s plenty.
My steady drive back south brings with it more epic settings like the glacial valley of Cwm Idwal – rangers unearthed an ancient sword in its mirror-still lake which is rumoured to be Excalibur. The evening of my final day of driving ends at the sun-soaked plains that unfold before Fan Brycheiniog, a loaf-like lump of a peak in the Black Mountains of the Brecon Beacons.
I’m alone on the road, as it’s been for most of my time exploring the Wales Way. There’s no reason not to take my foot off the gas and slow to a stop as the sinking sun sets the sky on fire.
Was my question answered? The Wales Way largely flies under the radar which makes for a less crowded alternative to the NC500 in Scotland. It’s got stunning coastal scenery and rugged mountains – not to mention giants, dragons and magic swords. The three courses are a glorious tangle of detours and possibilities; rich with stories, ripe for wandering.
If that’s not a recipe for a first-rate road trip…
Words & Photography Chelsea Davies Twitter