Holyhead in Anglesey has a lovely promenade and harbour with open spaces and a beautiful sunken garden. You can choose to walk above by the road with great views across the bay or down at the bottom by the sea edge. We frequently do both, it’s a pleasant circular walk with old-fashioned shelters along the way and modern planters that look like cups and saucers on the grassy bank.
Best of all is the great expanse of sea with the breakwater and harbour at one side and the ferry port at the other. It’s a pleasure to watch the huge ferries coming and going and sailing boats bobbing up and down in the sea.
One of our favourite treats is to eat fish and chips overlooking the water, and as it was the end of the caravan season and we were closing up, it was our last feast at Holyhead.
Along with a sausage for the dog, we ate hot chips and crispy battered fish then it was off for a walk down the prom.
It made me smile as it seemed our little treat wasn’t totally ours. There were at least three other cars with steamed windows and chips on their laps.
The light was already beginning to fade as we set off along the top and the wind was whipping up, but the air was warm.
The choppy sea was hitting the breakwater at the other side. It rose like a giant claw, grasping at the air. In the murky greyness further afield we could see the ghostly shadow of a ferry moving silently in the mist.
As dusk was falling, we decided not to go down to the seafront, instead of following the road to the back of the harbour. The wind blew through the masts of the boats, making an eerie clanging sound. As the road ended, the brightly lit Boathouse Hotel and Restaurant was on the left. It looked warm and inviting with people standing at the bar or eating in the restaurant.
I did a quick calculation, and it was six years ago that we had a big family reunion there. It was a bit run down, but the staff were friendly and the food lovely. It looked a good place to stay and eat, so maybe next season, we’ll go in and give it another go.
To the left of the Boathouse was a curious tunnel with a small single roadway through it. Another time, I said, we’ll go and look what’s down there. As I turned back, I noticed a sign saying Post Office that way. Of all the things I’d have guessed was there, a post office was not one of them.
It was almost dark by now and we passed the boatyard with its clanging ropes and up the slight incline. The warm wind caressed us as if it was saying goodbye too, and it was totally dark by the time we reached the car.
It was a fitting end to our holiday season, and I can only look forward to when we can do it all again.
Little did I guess that two years later we would move house and settle in a village very near Holyhead. Funny how life turns out, isn’t it.