Ynys Llanddwyn

Today our wandering takes us over to beautiful Anglesey - our home island - and back to  the glorious beaches of Newborough. We last visited back in September in the warmth of brilliant sunshine, but then as the tide was coming in, we were unable to make anything but a cursory visit to Ynys Llanddwyn . 


Today of course it’s colder and the sky is grey - yet as we reach the beach, miraculously the clouds have cleared and we’re blessed once more with sunshine as we walk along the seemingly endless sands to the island itself. The tide is going out, the island easily accessible - and we know we will be able to explore this magical place at our leisure. It will be dark before the tide turns. 

This is a truly magical place, rich in history and spirituality. I love it here. The island is home to the ruins of Llanddwyn  - the church of St. Dwynwen. The Welsh patron saint of lovers, Dwynwen lived during the 5th century AD and was one of 24 daughters of St. Brychan, a Welsh prince. She fell in love with a young man named Maelon, but rejected his advances. This, depending on which story you read, was either because she wished to remain chaste and become a nun or because her father wished her to marry another. She prayed to be released from the unhappy love and dreamed that she was given a potion to do this. However, the potion turned Maelon to ice. She then prayed that she be granted three wishes: first, that Maelon be revived; second, that all true lovers find happiness; and thirdly, that she should never again wish to be married. She then retreated to the solitude of Llanddwyn Island to follow the life of a hermit, and the island became a place of pilgrimage. 

We walk along towards the island’s tip, past the chapel ruins and various crosses placed there over the years as symbols of its holiness. My hopes for a Llanddwyn sunset fade as the clouds close in, yet their swirling softness actually adds to the wonderful atmosphere of this place. We reach the lighthouse - Twr Mawr (big tower) - set high on the island’s furthest point, once crucial in providing guidance to the ships that carried slate from the North Wales quarries.

We turn back, passing first the row of pilots’ cottages, making our way back to the mainland and the long walk back across the wet sands left by the retreating tide. By now I am, I must admit, exhausted - but undeniably exhilarated and refreshed by the beauty of this very special place. 

Inevitably, I take far too many shots - so much to see and such dramatically changing light and cloud patterns. I put aside the coastal views - I’ve blipped these previously - but even focusing on the island makes it hard to choose. In the end I decide to go with the view from the beautifully crafted wooden gates with the ruins, cross and lighthouse in the distance, made more other-worldly by the intense mackerel sky. But it’s a tough choice, and this is very much a Llanddwyn set.