Mynydd Mawr

It almost seems as though Mynydd Mawr lies on the very edge of the known world, at the far western tip of the Llyn Peninsula. In glorious isolation, it’s sheltered from the prevailing winds, but has a stunning view out across to Bardsey Island.

Once upon a time, the island was an important pilgrimage destination and it was thought that a quick trip across the water to it could possibly save your soul. They obviously knew a thing or two back then, because in our busy world, a camping pilgrimage to Mynydd Mawr could very well do the same job.

This out-of-the-way place rarely gets crowded; the site is small, the rugged scenery is massive and there is an overwhelming feeling of being hugged by Mother Nature – now there’s a thought. One of the most noticeable things about this place is the silence or, possibly more accurately, the lack of noise. Of course you can hear the sea, the birds and the wind, but the lack of cars, aeroplanes, and boats, even, has the unusual effect of an obvious – but welcome – silence. Listening to the silence may seem like an odd thing to do, but you just can’t help yourself here.

If late-evening strolls are your thing, then Mynydd Mawr is the place to do it. The walk from the campsite to the westernmost extremity of the Llyn, to watch the sun plunge into the red western sky, is one of life’s finest privileges. Anyway, enough of this dreamy contemplation – there is a lengthy inventory of scenery out there awaiting campers’ inspection.

The Llyn Peninsula Coastal Path passes the site (it couldn’t really avoid it) and offers the opportunity to stride off along the edge of the world to Aberdaron in one direction or to Porth Oer in the other. Aberdaron has a café or two, a pub, a nice beach, a quaint little church and the chance to get on a boat to visit Bardsey Island. To call Aberdaron a resort would be ludicrous, but after the isolation of Mynydd Mawr, it feels almost like re-entry into the world. You can even buy an ice cream there and get free WiFi on the beach.

The walk to Porth Oer along the northern and western fringe is among a much bigger and wilder landscape, with 240-metre cliffs plunging into the restless waters, while Porth Oer, about four very rough miles away, is a soft, inviting place of golden sands.

The Llyn Peninsula isn’t the kind of place to go if you’re seeking bright lights and entertainment and Mynydd Mawr lies at the very bottom of this scenic cul-de-sac, so getting elsewhere will never be achieved quickly on the narrow, country roads.

Wherever you venture on the lovely Llyn, to return to Mynydd Mawr for that sunset stroll – and to listen again to that sound of silence – it’s a haunting experience.