It was a very wet New Years Day. With nothing else planned we decided to tick off another 2 islands situated in Anglesey, off Newborough and the other in the Menai Straits, near the bridge. It was a day for wellies but I had to make do with trainers as mine had disappeared for months now ( weirdly  reappearing in our porch several months later in the middle of January.)
The traffic wasn't bad for a Bank Holiday and we decided to arrive in Newborough around lunch time to miss the worst of the weather. We packed a few things to eat in case we didn't pass a welcome pub or café. Good thing we did as there was nothing open on route. Despite the weather there were several cars in the beach car park with no charge today and possibly all winter. From here you can walk through the forest or along the beach where the trees reach down to the dunes on  one side.
We sat in the car in a not too exposed spot but this didn't stop the wind from shaking us about as we ate our sandwiches. A trip to the toilet block, the only facilities here and just yards away, caused a drenching, further dampening our spirits. There would be no lovely views today.
We set off, with barely more than our eyes exposed, in horizontal rain. I was coveting Bob's glasses as they would have given protection from the flying sand. The car park looks newly marked out and signposts, a bit of modern art and a rather superfluous wooden platform with stairs to the beach, pay testament to the fact that money has been spent here.
There were quite a few brave dog walkers on the beach. The wild weather seemed to encourage misbehaviour and we had a few muddy footprints on our trousers from the odd canine miscreant.
 Ynys Llandwyn, a peninsula that for a very short time becomes an island at the highest tides, is unofficially known as Lovers Island. Unfortunately with the wind whipping the water up under our coats we were feeling less than romantic. As we picked our way round the deeper areas sand covered by water because of my unsuitable foot-wear, we were hailed by one of the dog walkers. Mostly recognised  by her voice we realised it was an acquaintance we hadn't seen for years and goodness knows how she knew it was us, trussed up as we were. She said she is renting an old windmill nearby. Considering home for us all is more than 2 hours drive away it was a strange coincidence to meet like this. It was good to chat but not for long as wet had seeped through to underwear already.
The beach had whelk and cockle shells and Bob found and pocketed, a well worn piece of shell that was, very appropriately, in a perfect heart shape.
The island seemed to be in the distance for some time but at last we reach the hoarding with Welsh and English information on its history and geology. It offers us a little cover from the weather as we read then we head towards the sea along the narrow finger of land, taking the left path full of slippery mud and puddles. The grey sky and sea whipped by the wind is certainly atmospheric but walking with jeans plastered to one's legs proves difficult. My thoughts are far from those of those of the many pilgrims who saw the island as a mecca for lovers. St.Dwynwen's day is the 25th January. The story goes that Dwynwen from the 5th century founded a convent here after suffering a heartbreaking end to a love affair.  Ruins of Llanddwyn- Dwynwen's church, built 1,000 years later and a well are still monuments to her hermitage here. Some say she became something like an agony aunt and after she died people would predict a lover's faithfulness by throwing crumbs in the well where eels had taken up residence. They would lay a handkerchief over the crumbs and if it became disturbed by the feeding eels then fealty was assured.
The 14 foot high Celtic cross to Dwynwen's memory was installed in 1903.then after the sparse ruin of the church built in the middle ages is another cross dedicated to the saint. Further on are 2 small lighthouses-Twr bach and Twr Mawr, the latter the largest being built attached to the keepers cottage in 1845. The 2 look like the remains of white windmills.
In the summer some of the pilots houses at the end of the island open to show exhibits on the island.
A small cannon rusting here was once used to call out the Newborough lifeboat.
We turned to go back down the other side with oyster catchers on the sand below the low cliffs. We pass by the well though can't see much and we feel the need to get warm and dry so we take as little time to return to the car as possible. The rain is subsiding and then the sun ties to peep through the clouds but it is short lived.
I vow to come back again to take in the beauty we had seen here when we travelled this way during our coast bike trip. After 2 hours in the car we were still saturated needless to say we left out the other island. We had had enough for one day.