Holyhead Harbour

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 close to the sea edge. We frequently do both as 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 up windows and chips on their laps.

The light began to fade as we set off along the top. The wind whipped up, and the surrounding air remained warm.

The choppy sea hit the breakwater and rose like giant claws grasping at the air. In the murky greyness further afield we could see the ghostly shadow of a ferry that moved silently in the mist.

As dusk fell, we decided not to go down to the seafront and instead followed the road towards the harbour. The wind blew through the boat masts, and made an eerie clanging sound. The road ended with 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. The place was a bit run down, but the staff were friendly and the food lovely. It looked a good hotel to stay and eat in now, 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. I made a mental note to look what’s down there next time we come. 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 wasn’t 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.

Al in all, a fitting end to our holiday season, and I can only look forward to when we can do it all again.