Cadair Ifan Goch (at Ordnance Survey grid reference SH 7890 6685) is a relatively easy walk with the reward of a stunning view when you reach the crags high above the valley. Since most of the climbing can be done by car, it's only the very last part up the back of the crag which is steep for walkers. Turn off the main road (A470) opposite the Maenan Abbey Hotel (former site of Maenan Abbey, dissolved by Henry VIII and razed by Elizeus Wynne in the 1560s.) Follow signs for Maenan, and take the first left up some steep bends to arrive at the small car park in Maenan itself. Don't expect a conurbation. Maenan is more of a hamlet than a village, sitting in the long hump of land between the main Conwy Valley and the Eglwysbach Valley on the other side. Cadair Ifan Goch is owned by the National Trust, but is free to access for all. The walk is not much more than half a mile from the car park to the beauty spot.
Cadair Ifan Goch means the Chair of Red Ifan. Ifan Goch was a giant who sat on this beautiful rocky seat above the valley and bathed his feet in the river below. Another legend says that he would stand with one foot on the crag and the other on Pen y Gaer, diagonally opposite, in order to bend down and wash his face in the fresh river water. Perhaps Ifan Goch was something of a contortionist? I wonder if he was a friend or relative of the giant who used Pen y Gaer's neighbour, Pen y Gadair, as his seat? Perhaps he was the same being. I don't know if the land was heavily populated in the time of giants, or if they were mostly solitary souls. If a fight broke out between them, I imagine the heavens would have rung with thunder and lightning.
The car park is tucked off the road at Ordnance Survey grid reference SH 7942 6652, on the left in this photo.
The footpath sign, decorated with Welsh independence stickers, which are becoming more and more common.
The leaves are starting to fall, but the canopies are still rich with green.
The paths are quite good, although muddy in places, especially after rain.
There are a few inclines to walk up, but nothing very steep, and the paths are wide and open right to the final climb to the ridge.
Someone, at some time, has expressed love by carving into this tree, and the tree has made the carving its own.
The woods are full of sweet chestnuts, and the ground is scattered with spiny hulls and glossy nuts.
This shelter has been made against the trees near the path. It reminds me of childhood, making similar shelters in the woods near our house. I once rubbed my clothes in mud to make them less visible, but I'm not sure it worked.
These small, glistening mushrooms were growing on a dead bit of a tree.
All of these mushrooms were on the same fallen branch.
It's hard to capture the magical feeling of this wood in a photo. The tall, spaced trees and open ground are a world away from the ancient woods of gnarled trees and moss covered stones I know from the west side of the valley.
A useful sign in the middle of the woods. There are a few different paths and the right one is not always the most intuitive one.
Finally, the hill rises steeply to meet the ridge of Cadair Ifan Goch.
The path narrows at the ridge, and little steps have been put in.
The path curves around the back of the ridge.
The final bit of the climb is the only part that could present real trouble to people with mild mobility issues. This little bit of rock needs to be scrambled over.
The reward for getting to the top is magnificent.
The river snakes below, with the village of Dolgarrog showing as a long line on the other side of the valley. Dolgarrog was heavily reliant on the aluminium factory there. For years after the factory closed the site lay derelict, but recently Adventure Parc Snowdonia (previously Surf Snowdonia, visible in front of the village to the right) was built in its place. This attraction has proved hugely popular, so I hope it survives Covid to continue to bring people and jobs to the area.
The ridge of Tal y Fan is in the distance, with Pen y Gaer to the left.
The slope below is largely planted with conifers. The only conifers native to the UK are scots pine, juniper, and yew, so all forests like this are artificial plantings.
Just down off the north end of the ridge is this plaque in memory of Thomas Arthur Leonard (1864-1948.) He was a British social reformer who pioneered the idea of outdoor organised holidays. Although he was born in London, he lived near Conwy from 1914 until his death. Pacifist and left wing, he found himself under suspicion during the First World War when Labour meetings were held at his home, although the suspicions were unfounded. Wikipedia mentions memorial plaques set up for him 'on Conwy Mountain and on Catbells near Keswick in the Lake District,' but doesn't mention this plaque on Cadair Ifan Goch.
You can scramble about a bit around the ridge. It's not a sheer drop in all places. But do be careful.
Looking up the valley towards the south. Dyffryn Conwy is an archetypal U shaped valley, the result of glacial action during the ice age. This site has a fascinating overview of the geology of Wales.
A wider angle shot shows the full beauty of the view, with the mountains of the Carneddau rising up above the west side of the valley. I'm glad I live right under these mountains, but sometimes I'm a little envious for the view you get of them from the other side of the valley.
As we sat on Ifan Goch's seat we heard the welcome clatter of a train going down the valley. It must be one of the first since the line reopened after being repaired for flood damage.
Looking up the valley, the river describes some wonderful right angles between the patchwork of fields.
We sat a while up here, then turned to go back down. Just after we entered the trees we heard the roar of fighter jets going down the valley. By a minute or so we missed a spectacular show. All we caught were glimpses through the trees.
Oak leaves on the way back down, just turning to their autumn colours.
Our path back down took us back along the same route - or so we thought.
When we came upon this isolated kissing gate, with no fence to either side, we realised we'd taken a wrong turn. It's easily done. I usually rely on my husband's incredible visual memory, but even he missed the right turning. It doesn't matter so much, because this path just brought us out a little way down the road, and it wasn't far back to the car park.
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