Amlwch wasn’t on my list, but ready to capture any and every possibility of extra exploring, I said yes to the jaunt. It was a slate grey sky that bled its colour into the air just like any other slate grey day in Ynys Môn, Wales. Parys Mountain’s copper earth was a dull glow on the left as we drew closer – its crater riddled with gullies, dips, bumps and knolls in black, orange and russet brown.
Through the seemingly silent town, the port came into view on our left. A café on my right with chairs invitingly set out at the front became the meeting point. From Machine Road, I turned to Quay Street, which led to Pen Cei, a lane that divided. I took the steep route down to the harbour, leading straight to Copper Kingdom.
The Copper Kingdom Museum gives an experience of people’s lives of that time – the rapid growth of a small fishing village into one of the most industrial Welsh towns of the 18th and 19th centuries. It shows through interactive models, the working life of a Copper Lady, Miner, Smelter and Mine Manager. Neighbouring is the Sail Loft Maritime Museum. Here is a café and even more on the occupations that stemmed from the discovery back in 1768 – shipbuilding, tobacco and mat manufacturing, ochre, sulphur and other chemical based industries, plus more on the exporting of King Copper.
Outside again, the natural inlet was a perfect harbour. Pleasure boats and working boats lay far down below from where I walked, waiting for the rise of the tide. Along the harbour wall, the high water mark stained a horizontal line high above the vessels. Birds darted in and out of invisible to me spaces in the wall. An orange cat cat-walked along the edge.
Beyond the sea crafts, The Loft and the museum, the land rose again. Purple heather and yellow sedge grew close to the ground, not quite keeping out of the wind roaring across. Reminding myself that I was not a goat, every step I took was firmly planted before I took the next one. I passed a hidden and cold campfire. Reaching the Headland’s summit, the expanse of the Irish Sea heaved and rolled below me. So distant, it was silent. Simply rows upon rows of corrugated waves. For someone who had grabbed and shuffled along without letting go of the railing at Italy’s Pisa Tower, I stunned myself with my lack of fear. I was mesmerised. I didn’t want to leave nor visit anywhere else. This was enough. Finding a worn path, I rambled. Gannets glided in the air stream above. My eyes searched for dolphins. The moist air eventually morphed to raindrops, sending me sooner than I wanted to the rendezvous.
The Café was bright and cosy inside – and dry. The pastry selection was glorious. But passing rounds of savoury tarts, stout sandwiches and glossy, sweet scones bursting with fruit, I chose my favourite. My go-to in any café I enter as I range from place to place, taking quiet assessments of the regional variations. With a thick slice of Bara Brith, plump with raisins, I sat beside a tabletop bookshelf and waited for my tea to come. I selected two used novels and dropped coins into the box for Blind Veterans – ignoring that my bag was at popping point. The temptation of adding to my purchase, the local honey, golden in glass jars had to be suppressed; even though the bees would’ve sipped nectar from up on the Headland. My new special place. The table under my saucer was gleaming blond, just like all the other tables – blond wooden slabs bolted to black wrought iron legs, all made from salvaged wood. A glass, cider bottle set in a place of honour on the counter displayed the nails pulled from the beams. Thick, humongous iron nails. After tea and a second slice, I was satisfied and my ride came.
Amlwch is the northernmost town in Ynys Mon/Anglesey. Her name means about inlet. Am – about…llwch – inlet. A perfect place to join the Welsh Coastal Path from anyone of the many Bed and Breakfasts. It was 1768, when this quiet, fishing village was flipped into the world’s industrial limelight with the discovery of the great lode of copper ore by miner, Roland Pugh at Cerrig Y Bleddia on Mynydd Parys/ Parys Mountain. Mining had been happening there on a small scale since 1764. Indeed, later archaeological findings date some form of mining for this ore back to the Bronze Age over 3500 years ago. But March 2nd 1768 altered village life and Pugh’s too. His discovery rewarded him with a free cottage for life. Amlwch’s change went quickly to bustling with industries associated with the mining, its export and shipbuilding. Her population rose rapidly to 6,000 in 1831 and onwards to 10,000. Folks brought and established services including a brewery and accompanying pubs. Eighty-four pubs at one time could be counted!
Unique to the Amlwch area, were the Copper ladies. Copper ladies? This was the name given to the women who first worked the ore brought up by the men. Mainly in long wooden sheds and supplied with iron-banned gauntlets for one hand and an iron knockstone at the side, they broke the ore into smaller pieces. Pay was twelve pence a twelve-hour day. Young boys not yet down in the mine, helped to fetch. Anglesey pennies were also part of the history then for a short period. Copper penny tokens were made in Amlwch as ‘real’ pennies were scare.
With the market changes over the years, including cheaper competition, Amlwch’s port is back to being a quiet place with somewhere around 3,500 people in the town. But in her booming industrial years, with the natural harbour widened in 1793, it was from where laden sea vessels left. Looking at the inlet now, these words float: narrow and mighty. An enthralling place. A positive draw today for residents and holiday folks from the many bed and breakfast homes, guest houses, campsites – all forms of hospitality offerings.
Getting there:
By bus: Take the 61 from Holyhead. Bus 62 from Bangor. From Llangefni, it’s Bus 32.
By car: A 5025 from Holyhead (Caerbygi) or Bangor, roughly 33 minutes from either one. Or use the North Wales Express.
Tips: Copper Kingdom closes in October for the winter. Check opening and closing dates.
Words: Gillian Thomas
Featured image: Parys Mountain, Amlwch. Photo by Robin Drayton (cc-by-sa/2.0)
