A return to Snowdon

It was a soft day yesterday - slight drizzle, cloud - not beach weather. So Eddie and I headed up Snowdon as we did last year, this year taking a slightly more challenging path - the Watkin Path. Named after Sir Edward Watkin, Victorian railway entrepreneur, chairman of the Great Central Railway, the man who attempted to build London an Eiffel Tower where Wembley Stadium now stands, the man who had a crack at building a Channel Tunnel in the early 1880s. This ascent up Snowdon is the highest in terms of climbing (over a kilometre), the start of the track not too far above sea level.

The Watkin Path starts on the A478 by Plas Gwynant, not far from Sir Edward's summer chalet. After ascending through pleasant woodland, we come to a gate, which doubled for the North West Frontier in the British film comedy, Carry On Up The Khyber. Eddie is looking for the plaque marking this film location - sadly, someone must have half-inched it.

Below: After an hour and half's climbing, we're looking down on a helicopter flying over Llyn Glaslyn lake. The first part of the walk was not too bad.

The track started to get steep beyond this point, and we found ourselves scrambling with hands and feet over loose scree - not the best of surfaces for climbing. At the same time, the mist descended on the mountain top - you can see the visibility in the photo (below). The fact that several other people were also journeying up the Watkin Path made it easier for us. Plus, we'd done it before, last year, coming up the Rhyd Ddu Path, which joins the Watkin Path some 400m before the summit. Today I stand atop the highest peak in Wales - yesterday I was swimming in the sea. Góry i morze, panie, w jednym urlopie.

After dining on Cornish Pasty and Welsh cider ('Taffy Apple' brand - very good) at the restaurant on top of Snowdon, we had a good rest, visited the summit, and turned to make our descent. Below: the mist began to clear as we set off down. In the distance, a boulder perched on some rocks. How did it get there? We're over 800m above sea-level at this point...

It was a long walk - some eight miles there and back, at the end of the day my pedometer registered over 23,000 paces, the bulk of which was the ascent and descent of Snowdon.

It was a hard walk - not too hard, but not something to be done without experience or supplies. We started off in one layer, then donned as second as we climbed above 600m, then as we entered the mists, we put on waterproof jackets. The paths up Snowdon can be dangerous in snow and ice, with high winds or in thick fog, which can descend with very little warning. Sir Edward Watkin, devised this path in his retirement, while Prime Minister William Gladstone went halfway up the path to mark its opening in 1893. Gladstone was 83 at the time. The Victorians were a tough breed; much tougher, I fear, than the British are today. On Snowdon today, I felt the dead hand of nanny state lift for a few hours - here you take health and safety as your own responsibility.

This time two years ago:
On the eve of Warsaw's Veturillo revolution

This time three years ago:
Getting ready for the 'W'-hour flypast

This time four years ago:
A century of Polish scouting

Scaling the highest peak in Wales

Yr Wyddfa (or if you insist on being an English-language imperialist, Snowdon) is the highest peak in Wales, 1,085m above sea level. It's also the highest peak in the UK minus Scotland, so if the Scots vote for independence next year, Ben Nevis (1,344m) will no longer claim that distinction.

Said to be Britain's busiest mountain, it does get crowded as you reach the summit, but that's helped by the fact that a train can take the laziest of people to the very top. Having been up Giewont, I can say it's a long way from that level of crowdedness.

Eddie and I left the car at Rhyd Ddu station car park [pron. 'Ryd Thee'] and walked up the Rhyd Ddu path to the summit, and walked down the less-challenging Snowdon Ranger path. We were hoping to catch the Welsh Highland Railway back to Rhyd Ddu, but the 16:40 service doesn't run on a Friday, so we walked back from Snowdon Ranger.

It took us two and half hours to get to the top from the car park. Much of the walk was straight forward, but here and there we needed the aid of our hands to scramble up some of the steeper parts of the track. From the bottom we could not see the summit, as it was wreathed by clouds. As we ascended, the clouds blew past, yielding a view of the top (below).

Below: along the way, we see some mountain goats. The one on the left is gazing at the shadow of his head on a rock. In the distance, the Llanberis path, longest but easiest way up (I cycled up that way in 1991).

It's quite an unusual experience to behold a large aircraft flying below you while you're standing on terra firma. We spot an RAF Hercules C-130K Hercules weaving between the mountain tops.

Below: looking up at the summit, it appears to be teeming with humans. Just below the summit, the restaurant and mountain railway centre, opened in 2006.

Below: the view from the very top. Very busy. Everyone's taking selfies with their iPhones and uploading to Instagram. Signum temporis!

Below: the Snowdon Mountain Railway, steam hauled for this trip. Loco No. 2, Enid, pushes the single carriage up the rack-and-pinion tracks. It is wonderful that this little railway is still in regular use after 117 years.

Below: looking down the track toward Llanberis and the island of Anglesey beyond. We didn't have perfect meteorological conditions; they were good enough to see much of North Wales, but there was no sign of Ireland, the Isle of Man or indeed Scotland. It is said that on a clear day the line of sight from the top of Yr Wyddfa extends 140 miles (215 km).

The views from the climb captivate. We had the optimal day for climbing; dry, not too hot, with a light wind to wick away the sweat. This is my third ascent of the peak, the first for over twenty years. Eddie was a star, utterly tireless.

This time last year:
Beaches of the north coast of the Llyn Peninsula

This time two years ago:
The Accursed Soldiers - a short story

This time three years ago:
Driving impressions of the Toyota Yaris
[Three years on - still no imperfections to report whatsoever]

This time five years ago:
Poland's dry summer

This time six years ago:
The UK's wettest summer ever