Category Archives: Aberdyfi

Late afternoon light on Tywyn beach

My father and I decided to take a three-night break in the Aberdovey area. After leaving my home in Aberdovey and moving to the Chester area in February, I decided to take a break for a few months before going back for a flying visit. I wanted to find somewhere self-catering, and near the sea, and the place that ticked all the boxes was in Tywyn. I have taken 100s of photographs of the beach at Aberdovey, walking a long way towards Tywyn, but only rarely took photographs on the beach at Tywyn itself. The beach at Tywyn is so different from that at Aberdovey!

The most obvious difference is the presence of breakwaters, long wooden structures that run from the promenade down into the sea in order to lessen the erosive and carrying impact of waves and cross-currents on a sloping beach, effectively dividing the beach into multiple small sections. When the tide is very high it is impossible to walk along the beach without climbing over the breakwaters, but a promenade along the top of the beach means that the sea can still be enjoyed by dog-walkers, joggers and visitors.

Within these divisions, the differences continue to impress.

There are lovely rock pools with superbly coloured seaweeds floating in them, the rocks sometimes housing colonies of tiny white barnacles. Beyond the rock pools are highly textured sand structures that look a little like coral but are honeycombe reefs, made by the Honeycomb worm (Sabellaria alveolata), which form colonies. The colonies form on hard substrates and they need sand and shell fragments for tube-building activities. They manufacture the tubes from mucus to glue the tiny pieces together. When the tide is out the worms retreat deep into the tunnels, but when the tide covers their reefs their heads protrude and they feed on micro-organisms in the water, including plankton.

There are lots of pebbles, rounded by being rolled in the sea and over sand and other pebbles, a variety of shapes, sizes, colours and textures. There are almost no shells, but there are occasionally limpets, which are only rarely found at Aberdovey, probably due to the lack of rocks for them to cling to. Perhaps because of the breakwaters there is nothing in the way of a strandline capturing oddities from the sea, but this is good news for sun-bathers. The Tywyn beach very definitely has its own personality.

Staying so close to the beach meant that we could walk along it both first thing and last thing, which was a treat. We were so lucky with the weather, and the autumn sun, quite low in the sky, danced wonderfully on the waves. It was cold at each end of the day, but by staying on the move, hypothermia was avoided.

Here are a few of my late afternoon snapshots. There will be more to follow on future posts. The light was simply extraordinary. We’ll be back 🙂

New book: Richard Mayou, “The Dyfi Estuary – An Illustrated History”

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I am very excited to have taken receipt today of Richard Mayou’s new book “The Dyfi Estuary – An Illustrated History”, just published by The Machynlleth Tabernacle Trust. I will report more when I have done more than devour the feast of lovely photographs, but for anyone wanting to secure a copy, it is available from the Machynlleth MOMA (Museum of Modern Art) at https://moma.cymru/en/product-category/books/. There are two versions of the same book, one in English and one in Welsh. Here’s the preview from the back cover:

The Dyfi estuary looks peaceful and unchanging, but the book tells
a different and dramatic story. There have been armies, great estates, a centre
of seaborne trade, a great woollen industry, cattle droving and fishing of
salmon and herring and internationally renowned mines and quarries.
Now its post-industrial landscape is a place of
sheep-farming, conservation and tourism.

I’m chuffed to bits that this blog is listed in the further reading section.

A Valentine’s Day Adieu

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On Friday I sold my house and moved away from Aberdovey, and have now moved into my new house, located not far from Chester. It was truly sad to say goodbye to Aberdovey. There are people I will miss very much, and the local scenery is always going to be difficult to beat. However, spring is around the corner and I have a big new garden to play with, an outdoor pizza oven to get to grips with, a lot of decorating to do, plus an impressive number of lovely looking walks, not to mention a serious set of Iron Age hillforts to explore in this part of northeast Wales and west Cheshire. There’s lots to keep me busy.

Thanks very much for visiting Aberdovey Londoner, and particularly to those of you who have signed up to receive automatic notifications when I post something. Thanks too for the many email conversations about the area’s past and about many of the walks I have described. It has been super fun chatting with you.

I’ll leave the blog up and running as an archive, and will certainly add odds and ends to it from time to time, particularly as I intend to be a regular visitor to Aberdovey when lockdown comes to a proper end. I still haven’t finished my Aberdovey/Tywyn hillfort series, and there are many more walks to explore, as well as the beach and dunes to revisit. In the meantime, take care and thanks very much for keeping me company.

My new blog, investigating the area to which I have moved, is at www.basedinchurton.co.uk

My best wishes to everyone, and Happy Valentine’s Day!

A hazy beach at high tide

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Before I left the house I checked my tide clock to confirm what the view from my window had already told me – the tide was all the way in. It was still a surprise when I got down there at how high the tide actually was. I have never seen waves lapping at the foot of the pillbox, for example, and there was just a thin band of sand, a couple of feet wide, because the sea had reached the pebbles and the dunes. Checking the tide tables on my return, it was indeed a pretty high tide at 4.83m.

There was nothing much to see on the strandline, which was mainly bladder wrack, leaves and old wood, but the sea itself was absolutely spectacular, and the sky, veering from bright blue to blue-black and back again, provided a wonderful backdrop for both the frothing white waves, the yellowish sand dunes and the bright green golf course. There were good signs of life on the dunes, with brave early plants producing bright new leaves. Not just a feast for the eyes, however, but the ears too. What had originally drawn me to the beach was the thundering roar that announced itself when I opened the front door this morning and on the beach itself it was explosive.

Apart from two men wielding metal detectors, there was absolutely no-one around, so no need to worry about social distancing, which was lucky as short of scaling the sand dunes, or going for an unseasonal paddle, there were places where it would otherwise have been difficult to avoid someone coming in the opposite direction. On my return leg via the golf course there were a lot more people around, mainly walking dogs but a small group was considerately collecting litter.

Blue skies on Sunday

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It seems quite remarkable as I look out of the window this morning, that Sunday was all blue skies and sunshine, simply lovely. Today I can barely see beyond the end of garden. The rain is relentless and the sky such a pale shade of grey that it is almost white. The gloom is unbelievable. So it is really quite a relief to look back to Sunday when I went for a stroll on the beach at low tide, much the best option for a safe way to take exercise during lockdown, as there are no gates to open or stiles to cross.

RSPB Big Garden Birdwatch 29th-31st January 2021

Sunshine! No rain! Oh the bliss

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For the first time in days, the rain stopped on Sunday, the sun came out and it was a beautiful autumn day. It was quite chilly, but not sufficient to deter people from emerging from their homes to enjoy the reprieve. I didn’t go for a long walk, but it was excellent just to get out. I walked down Balkan Hill, and turned left where it turns right, taking the footpath along the side of the Holiday Village, down into Penhelig. From there I walked to Picnic Island. The tide was in, but there is a stretch of uneven wall along which you can make your way if relatively sure-footed, and this bypasses the section of the footpath that is underwater. Even if you fall off, it’s only a short drop into very shallow water.

In the summer this is a busy walk, and the estuary is busy with Outward Bound activities, but today there were absolutely no signs of human life. It was incredibly peaceful, an ideal day for stopping, sitting and just listening to the sound of the water lapping on the rocks.

An autumn visitor: A sleepy toad attempting to hibernate on my patio

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I keep some plants in a gravel tray on my patio, mainly herbs, and during an autumn sort-out, which involved moving the plants out of the gravel tray so that I could clean it, I disturbed this common toad (Bufo bufo), which was presumably looking for an undisturbed corner in which to settle down for an undisturbed hibernation. Sadly he/she chose quite the wrong place for a winter stop-over. It was completely unfazed by being exposed, and sat almost motionless. In fact, at first I was by no means sure it was alive. I left it alone, and eventually it moved a few limbs, and later on had vanished from view.

Although this individual is grey, they can be any good camouflage colours, including brown, olive green and sandy-coloured. Although they mate in or by water, they move away from aquatic environments, making their homes in woodland and similar shady environments where they prefer damp log and leaf piles. They make shallow burrows from which they forage at night for insects, spiders, centipedes, slugs, worms and ants etc, catching them on long, sticky tongues. This diet makes them very friendly to gardeners, and a toad is always a welcome resident. They return to the pond in which they were spawned to mate. Eggs are laid in long strings, which can be distinguished from frog spawn which are laid in clumps.

Hopefully it relocated to somewhere in the garden, where there are plenty of nice damp nooks and crannies for a nice quiet hibernation. I must say, on colder, windier and rainier days, the idea of going to bed for the winter doesn’t seem like an absolutely terrible lifestyle choice 🙂

A gloomy day alleviated by finding and cooking a delicious parasol mushroom

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Well the news today is first that in Wales we are going back into lockdown for a 17-day “firebreak” period from Friday 23rd October until Monday 9th November. Second, according to the NHS Covid app loaded on my phone, the LL35 postcode (Aberdovey) is now a High Risk area for Covid. Not terribly surprising, though, after the summer influx. Hey ho.

After a tedious few hours doing paperwork and filing I had to go to the Post Office this afternoon, so even though it was grey and dull, I took in a brief stroll along the golf course, sand dunes and walked back along the beach.

On the golf course I was hoping for some wild mushrooms, and just as I had given up, and was about to walk over the dunes to the beach, I spotted a single parasol (Macrolepiota procera) in the tall grass where the sand dunes meet the golf course. A beauty, and a real result. It was so perfect that it was almost a shame to eat it, but eat it I did.

Normally I would just have it in butter, garlic and parsley, but I had already planned a Hungarian chicken and mushroom dish for the evening, Paprikás Csirke (paprika chicken), so instead of shop-bought field mushrooms the parasol was deployed. There are many different ways of doing Paprikás Csirke, but I simply do it the way my Mum did it, which is a very simple, quick recipe that produces a super meal that is full of flavour.

In the recipe, button mushrooms are added to the sauce as described below. In the picture, however, what look like two pieces of steak are the two halves of my parasol mushroom top, served on the side of the chicken in the paprika and sour cream sauce, alongside griddled courgette discs.

Paprikás Csirke. Instead of adding button mushrooms with the chicken to the sauce, a giant parasol mushroom was halved and served on the side with courgette discs.

First, depending on how many people you are feeding, use a a whole chicken that has been jointed, one or more chicken joints, breasts or thighs. Whatever you choose, this is poached with a bay leaf, sliced onion, lemon zest and peppercorns. I also added the stalk of the parasol, because although it has flavour, it is too woody to eat. The poaching stock is reserved, because it is used to make the sauce.

The mushrooms are tossed in butter before setting on one side. The sauce is made by adding flour and paprika (and optional cayenne pepper) to the mushroom juices – add some more butter if necessary to soak of the flour. Slowly add the required amount of strained poaching liquid, stirring constantly, to make a light velouté. Keep stirring until it is thick enough to coat the back of a spoon. The chicken and button mushrooms and some lemon zest are then added to the sauce (mine differed because instead of many smaller mushrooms I divided my one large mushroom into two and served them on the side), and everything is simmered til warmed through. Sour cream is then added and stirred in and heated through for a minute or so with a good handful of chopped parsley. If you cannot get hold of sour cream, any cream will do as a substitute although the slight sharpness of crème fraîche or Greek yoghurt are a good match.

To serve, place a dollop of the cream on top of each serving, give it a good grind of black pepper and sea salt. I also like a good squeeze of lemon juice over the whole. It is good accompanied with plain white rice, noodles or your preferred veg. Ribbon or griddled courgettes go very well with this dish, and I opted for the latter. Optional additions to make it go further are cooked baby new potatoes and/or small, butter-fried shallots thrown into the sauce before the cream is added.