Nature doesn’t judge. People do.

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Barmouth was just what we needed after Sundays walking. The campsite staff knew exactly what we needed. Beer and fish and chips.

Although rather unwisely but also unknowingly we pitched our tent under a lamp. I’ve been relishing the thought of sleeping under the stars on this trip. So an orange street lamp glaring at me all night kind of ruined that prospect as well as our sleep.

Our feet are getting worse. We set off early and made it up to shell island by 2pm. It was an 8 or 9 mile walk through rugged coast, huge sand dunes and beautiful but windy beaches. The beach walking felt like traipsing across a desert. There was barely anyone around and I got some amazing videos of Paul walking through blowing sand.

Once here, at Shell Island campsite, we found a suitable spot to camp (no lamps) and went to check out the campsite supermarket. It turns out this place not only has a supermarket but a whole village complex which, if was to be called tacky would be erring on the incredibly understated. The village comes complete with arcade, ‘ye tavern bar’, greasy cafe and a camping supplies store.

In our tired, self absorbed moodiness we sat on a pub bench and judged people in a not so quiet way. At one point Paul in utter disbelief and bitterness just slumped his head and arms on the bench tables and said “don’t you think there are sooo many people here who deserve to do this walk instead of us!?!”. I’ll admit I couldn’t contain my laughter. One man sized child sat on a bench next to us and the bench almost toppled over him. His poor brother got severely reprimanded for not following the usual process of sitting down first as to balance out the family weight. Sufficed to say I don’t think we’ll be seeing many campers here in our walk.

So we wandered into the camping supplies store to see if we could find an adult sized sleeping bag for me. The last few nights have been a little uncomfortable to say the least. Having not seen any on the shelves I nervously approached the counter. I say nervously because the tanned, tattooed shop assistant looked like she might wrestle me into submission with one arm alone. She responded to my query by saying “We’ve only got this one left” and pointed at something hanging behind her which I had previously written off as some kind of left over curtain from previous owners who may have left back in the 70s. It certainly would have accommodated me and maybe even the burley shop assistant but I think carrying it would have been quite a challenge. Plus the brown and cream floral pattern was not to my liking. The assistant also quickly added “it’s £55″. I almost asked if that was because it was an antique but chose to politely decline.

Enough about sleeping bags.

Paul and I think tomorrow will be absolutely horrible for our feet. Today we did at least 8 miles on reasonably flat ground. Tomorrow we head 11 miles into the foot hills of Snowdonia and then we need to find a place to wild camp. Bugger! Say what you like about this place, but at least we’re welcome!

The Snowdonia mountain range, visible from our tent, looks misty and intimidating and very very far away…

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