When the tide turns

Oyster Catchers wait for the tide to turn

The weather over Easter in North Wales tempted me out for the second leg of my journey. Spoiler alert, this walk did not go entirely to plan. In my original route, I had planned to get to Mostyn and then take a little detour up into the hills. However, Mostyn does not have a station which made logistics a bit more difficult. I decided that I might be able to stretch things out to reach Prestatyn in one go. It was way over my 16km default distance but I was given confidence by the way the first walk had gone. The plan was to start early so I could have some decent breaks. My sister kindly volunteered to help me with the logistics as I was due to be over for a family get together the next day and was staying at my parents. So the new plan was I would head to my sister’s and she would drop me up in Flint then pick me up again at the end. As we drove out to Flint it did seem to be a long old way.

It was on arrival at Flint that the first of today’s to major “learning opportunities” presented itself. I had double checked everything in the rucksack after the last time (although I had totally failed on making it any lighter). As we were transferring to my sister’s car for the journey I grabbed my boots out of my boot bag. What I failed to spot was that my walking socks were not in their customary position of being stuffed in the top. That meant that all I had was my liner socks. I am a big fan of the two sock approach to walking as I find my feet blister slower and stay warmer than wearing a single thicker sock. The ones I use are Coolmax ones made by Bridgedale and I have been really pleased with them. I really wasn’t sure my feet would last very long on with only the liners. It was too far to go back though, so they would have to do. At least I had a pickup available that didn’t require me to get somewhere specific.

Looking up the Dee Estuary towards Connah’

At Flint Castle you leave the coast for a bit and skirt the castle and an industrial estate. This leads out onto a headland before you have to skirt round around a stream and onto the Flint Marsh. This areas has lots of paths and is popular with walkers and cyclists. After a brief section that heads inland, you pop out along the coastal embankment again at a long straight section called the Panton Cop. Here you have some great views up the estuary. It was excellent weather for walking - warm with a cooling, morning sea breeze. The opposite bank of the Dee on the Wirral coast was covered with a haze that never really burned off.

There is a narrow strip of land that is hemmed in between the water and the railway which is made up of fields. Some of the residents of those fields looked like they would be happier with a little less warmth at least until the farmer gets his shears out. One particular sheep stood out as, from a distance, it looked like a giant raccoon. Not exactly the black sheep of the family but rather odd all the same.

You are walking along the edge of the Dee Estuary Nature Reserve. It a good place to get the binoculars out and look for wildlife. Its too much of a reach to get decent pictures even with the 300mm equivalent lens I carry but I spotted some Redshanks and the Oyster Catchers you can see in the header image.

As you approach Bagillt, the landscape starts to get a little more industrial. There are still a few relics of the one flourishing mining and mineral manufacturing which drove the maritime development here and later the rail network.

Today, nature has started to reclaim what is left. If you look though you can still see the evidence of the massive amount of civil engineering that has been undertaken in this area - not least in the coastal defences along the estuary.

This is also the site of the Milwr Tunnel which is one of those marvels of Victorian ambition. In 1908, it was draining 1.7 million gallons of water a day from the mines of Pentre Halkyn a few kms away.

I have to admit, though these place sit directly in the 30 miles directly between the two places I have lived, I knew little of the extent of this industrial past. The road I have travelled hundreds of times past this area, the A55, sits high in the hills above. It lets you look down on towns and estuary below but mostly goes unnoticed - especially (and perhaps wisely) for the driver. Leaving Bagillt you climb a ridge and here a came across something a little more surprising to add to my growing list of “Oh, I had no idea that was here!” moments. Sitting proudly at the top of the hill is the Bagillt Beacon. To be fair to myself this is a monument from this Millennium. I think it looks rather magnificent.

As you drop back down the hill you return to the marshes and the giant solo wind turbine that has been off in the distance for most of the walk comes back into view. I still couldn’t see the Fun Ship though and as I was eager to do so as it was close to Abakhan’s cafe where I had planned to have breakfast. I had been walking since about 8:30 and I was feeling peckish. Time was getting on though and it looked more like it was going to be brunch.

As you cross the ridge line above you start to drop down into Greenfield Dock. Just like on my previous walk, I had seen the tidal surge as the tide started to come in. It is a little less pronounced than it was further up the river, but you still sense its arrival before you spot it. Even over the distant traffic noise from the coast road, you hear the sound change. There is a difference in level and tone as the water starts to accelerate and pull against the banks and buoys. I was still unaware of the significance this would have on my walk but more on that later.

The docks had a few people around, working on their boats or waiting for the tide. Like many places with a car park along the route, you get a sudden burst of humanity around them. Most of the time there is hardly a soul in sight. Generally the dog walkers get a bit further out than the the people with kids. This is because the enthusiasm of small children for walking tends to vary. I saw one toddler in the familiar pose of one who has lost all enthusiasm and who is waiting for their parents to provide a better alternative. Also, the extra paraphernalia of child walking tends to preclude the crossing of styles and gates.

Circling round the docks and past the industrial estate, I finally reached the wind turbine that had been so resolutely stuck to the horizon for so long. There was enough breeze for it to be turning but even from tens of metres away I couldn’t hear it over the bustle of the industrial estate. The only noise I could attribute to it was a hum from a small transformer station close to the path.

Leaving the industrial bustle behind along with latest in a long list of North Wales’ sewage works I am back along the sea wall. Even better, in the distance I can see the Funship over the boulders that reinforce the sea wall. Across the estuary I can see that there is a regatta on at West Kirby with a melee of triangular white sails catching the sun in the distance. The wall is long and pretty straight here. It doesn’t look that far to walk to brunch now.

The straightness of the path meant that this was another of those times where it took longer to get somewhere than it looked liked it should. A number of gates to clamber over along this stretch. They had been designed as gate/stile hybrid with cross beams and a support beam to hold onto. Not too difficult even for someone like me with a strong dislike of heights and substantial increase in clumsiness whilst off the ground. It was disturbing when I reached the subsequent ones, where the lower cross beam was broken. This made me wonder about the wisdom of relying on the upper cross beam when slinging my leg over the top of steel gate. Also slowing my progress was trying to get a good shot of these attractive little birds who inhabited the boulders along the sea wall. So well were they camouflaged against the lichen-covered rocks that I could only see them when they moved. If I managed to spot them, they still wouldn’t allow me quite close enough to get a decent shot. I didn’t recognise them at the time but I believe them to be Wheatears. I tried keeping still in the hope they might come a little closer but to no avail. All was still and I could just hear the water lapping giants the rocks on the other side of the boulder wall.

Although it has been through many reincarnations, I grew up with this former ferry being called the Fun Ship. It arrived at it’s landlocked home in 1979 and has had a varied life as everything from an urban art gallery to a zombie apocalypse experience. I believe it has new owners and I hope this attractive old vessel finds a new, more permanent role.

I must admit that I was feeling pretty good a bout life when I reached this major landmark. Breakfast/ Brunch/Lunch was imminent. The sun was shining and the walk had been interesting. I celebrated by finishing the last of the water I had been carrying. It is at this point that the second major learning opportunity made itself known to me.

As I headed along the path, it was a little unclear where I was supposed to go. Then I found this sign. The “path ahead” was most comprehensively flooded by unappealing looking murky water. It looked like the path lead through a side tunnel under the railway that was between me and my long promised brekkie. The water was less than a foot from the top of it! A rookie mistake, I had assumed this part of the path would not be affected by tides being so industrial. I considered the alternatives. There was a less official looking second tunnel to the left of it but that was on the other side of a wide ditch that separated the path from the fields. The water in the ditch looked even less inviting. Should I just wait? I had seen the tide turn and my guess was that it might still be before high tide. I check on the OS app I use to navigate and there seemed to be a crossing and footpath about halfway back to Greenfield. I decided to try that. It’s amazing how retracing your steps always feels like harder miles. Now Lunch was significantly less imminent, my undercooked feet started to complain and that nice cooling breeze was now a headwind. My mood was not improved when I got to the turn for the footpath. I could see the crossing and it was “occupied”. Closer inspection with the binoculars showed that the occupants were a herd of bullocks about 20 strong. I am enough of a country boy to wander through a herd of cows providing I can make it clear I am totally uninterested in them. Walking straight up to a dense wall of bullocks (very evidently from my observations in a frisky mood) is not my idea of safe, especially when the escape route is a major railway track. So I had to backtrack all the way to Greenfield and then leave the path for the coast road. Walking along the road is oppressive enough on a hot day even without it being “extra miles” and my enthusiasm plummeted. I did the grown-up version of that toddler I had seen in the morning and made the call to my sister for an “evac”.

I just had time for a late lunch/afternoon tea at Abakhan’s very nice new cafe before she arrived. At least when I start from here breakfast will be a certainty!