To clynogfaer and Nefyn July 12 an 13

After a disappointing rest day, it was time to set out for Clynogfaer.  That section can be described in two words: road and beach, more of the former than the latter.

This kind of beach, but see the majestic mountains of Snowdonia yonder :

A lady and her dog—only you can't see the dog—the beach, a little tidal pool, and the mountains:

While I was on the road, who should pass by but my now friend, Eurwyn!  The one person I know in all of Wales!  He was taking my bags to Clynogfaer!  It was as delightful a surprise to see him as to see these sweet poppies:

Mount Pleasant Lodge seems to have lost its luster:

Clynogfaer is a tiny town with a big church.  Everyone said, "You have to go to see the church, so I did.  Well, you can't really miss it:

Edge of Wales (company doing the next segment) said to me, "You have to take our route tomorrow. It is much prettier than the Wales Coast Path."  Who can refuse pretty?  It was as promised, but it made the day far too L O N G, there being more than a few navigational challenges.  Start time 6:30 a.m.  End time 5:00 p.m., which is probably why I smashed my phone.  Don't ask.

Sort of just appears:

Finding your way in areas like this:

But that shot reminds me of a conversation I had with a man on the beach yesterday.  I was asking him if one could walk on the beach all the way to Clynogfaer ('cause the map did not show the route thusly), and he said you could, so I did!  Then he pointed to the distant mountains and said, "You see those three peaks?  You can climb between the second and the third and just drop down a little and you will come upon an iron age fort." Trying to sound as if I might consider that suggestion,  I replied, "Really?"   Which is what you reply when you want to say, "You have got to be kidding?"

My only company all day: