All set to go – Holyhead - August 14th

I never did get around to fettling the boat as planned but climbed Snowdon instead with Gina and her half brother Fred and his wife Gayle - both keen experienced walkers. A three hour climb up into the clouds to join a throng of soaking wet, blue lipped, but curiously exhilarated climbers in the cafe at the top. As we dripped, munching sandwiches and looking somewhat shell-shocked, the rain hammered on the windows and the odd sulphurous gust blew through the doors hinting at the steam train waiting outside. The idea of taking it down rather appealing, other than from the fact that we’d left the car the other side of the mountain, complicating things no end. The odd view of the Menai Strait, Anglesey and the stunning foothills on the way up and down, made the climb truly memorable; as was the hot chocolate at the cafe - simply delicious! The Oggie, eaten with it, not so –a giant tepid Welsh equivalent of a Cornish pasty filled with a glutinous mix of stewed cow together with the odd chunk of potato to give it some substance; was grim.
   The climb down, as stiffness set in, was equally tough, as the cold bit through soaking wet trousers while complaining joints were given a good hammering and chilled feet sloshed about in wet climbing boots!
   Getting out of bed on Friday morning, found me so stiff I could hardly walk. The best thing to do, everyone said, was walk it off, so opted to join another 6 mile walk from King Arthur's Table to Red Wharf Bay and back. An easy decision, as the wind has swung around to the North, making even Laser sailing horrid in Rhoscolyn Bay.
   So here you find me on Saturday evening on Equinox having vacated and cleaned the house; fully fettled and fuelled and still horribly stiff! As my next stop is the Isle of Man a conservative quantity of Speckled Hen accompanies me, as it may be a rare breed up there. Bless Holyhead Tesco for stocking it.
   James Vernon, a sailing chum called earlier on and has asked me to join his family for dinner tonight back in Rhoscolyn! So I’m showered and shaved and decked out in my best pink drinking trousers.
   Crew from incoming yachts say the Irish Sea is rough and some plan to remain here until things improve. Not a good omen!