Way Out West

It was a cold, crisp morning early April as I set off for the Holyhead ferry at first light. The bike pulled away like a puppy (well, it is a Bulldog) heading excitedly for its morning walk. The roads were clear and I stopped an hour later in Llangollen to stretch my legs. Less than 10 minutes on I was back in the saddle and zipping along the A5 through villages that were just waking up on this Saturday morning. Eventually snow-covered Snowden came into view.

Weaving left, right, up and down, like Postman Pat on his rounds, I ghosted through villages and passed lakes and streams until the A5 became the A55. Then I had the icy crosswind blast that happens every day of the year when traversing Anglesey. At least here you can open the throttle for longer periods and by 9:45am I was parking the bike against a Holyhead kerb,