New Quay, Ceredigion, Wales, Summer
Sometimes you just have to be a bit of a tourist.
Sometimes you just have to be a bit of a tourist.
On a particularly lush day, we moved away from clifftop trekking and head to the beautiful little town of New Quay, Welsh name Cei Newydd.
New Quay is known for its vast sandy beaches, incredible local geology, and wildlife spotting. Until the early 19th century New Quay basically consisted of a few cottages and farm land. This all changed in the 1830s when a stone pier was constructed, which is still in use, and shipbuilding became the dominant industry here. Shipbuilding ceased 30–40 years later but ship navigation continued, and New Quay was the place to go and learn navigation. A local newspaper printed “New Quay... has more retired sea captains living in it than any other place of its own size in Wales.”
Like a lot of UK seaside towns, two world wars ended industry and manufacturing here, and began New Quay’s emergence as a desirable tourist destination. Which, on this occasion, included us.
And boy, what a glorious day it was.
All photos taken on my Sony α7ii using my Sony 24-240mm F3.5-6.3 OSS zoom lens. RAWs developed in Lightroom, merged in Photomatix, and editing and finalised in Photoshop.
New Quay, Ceredigion, Wales, Summer by Ian Cylkowski is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
The day started fairly cloudy and overcast, with the occasional pocket of rain, but we knew this would be clearing. By the old stone pier, I spotted someone fishing in Cardigan Bay and made this composition.
To paraphrase Benjamin Franklin, the only two certainties in life are death and taxes. In UK seaside towns, an additional certainty is seagulls, which were plentiful and confident at New Quay.
Lisabet and I paid for a small boat trip around the waters of Cardigan Bay from New Quay, courtesy of SeaMôr Dolphin Watching. While we were waiting at the old stone pier, I captured this scene of New Quay in its full summery touristy glory.
On our little boat we ventured north out of the harbour and head west around cliffs of New Quay Head. Here we could see the results of coastal erosion in these tilted folds.
Rounding the corner of New Quay Head, the aptly named "Birds Rock" comes into view. It's home to an expanding colony of Common Guillemots, Razorbills, European Shags and Kittiwakes.
Pulling the zoom back shows the crazy geology of New Quay and Birds Rock in full view. Getting these shots on a bumpy boat ride was a new challenge to me! I knew I needed fast shutter speeds, so set the camera to Auto ISO—maxing out at 12800—and let the lens aperture stay open as much as possible. Camera body and lens stabilisation definitely helped too.
Look at those layers of rock; millions of years of history, laid on top of each other like pages in a book. Further geology processes have compressed, folded, and intruded into these layers, then eroded away by the sea, leaving these incredible scenes.
We weren't going to assume we'd see any dolphins on this dedicated dolphin-spotting boat trip... but we were thankful we did! A pair of bottlenose dolphins gave us a couple of glimpses near the boat before heading further out to sea.
At this point, Wales is just showing off.
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Llangrannog & Ynys Lochtyn, Cardigan, Wales, Summer
The coast that time forgot.
The coast that time forgot.
Towards the end of our week around the Cardigan Bay coastline, we plotted a final clifftop trail. Starting at beautiful Llangrannog, up the coast from Aberporth and Tresaith, we would fuel up then follow the Ceredigion Coast Path northeast up onto the cliff tops and around the perilous shoulder of Pendinaslochdyn. Then we could drop back down to explore the peninsula of Ynys Lochtyn.
A beautiful, sunny, and hazy day greeted us for a crackin’ hike and some of the most epic coastal scenes and geology I’ve ever witnessed.
All photos taken on my Sony α7ii using my Sony 24-240mm F3.5-6.3 OSS zoom and Rokinon 14mm f2.8 ED AS IF UMC prime lenses. RAWs developed in Lightroom, merged in Photomatix, and edited and finalised in Photoshop.
Llangrannog & Ynys Lochtyn, Cardigan, Wales, Summer by Ian Cylkowski is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
A close-up abstract composition of Llangrannog's cliffs shows a dramatic geological story. These intensely folded and faulted rocks, likely turbidites deposited in a deep ancient sea, were deformed during the Caledonian Orogeny, the mountain-building event that shaped much of Wales. Each layer and fracture is a testament to millions of years of Earth's history, continually exposed by the relentless sea.
The sea stack is the well-known Carreg Bica, found under the northern cliffs of Llangrannog. A popular story claims Carreg Bica is actually the tooth of a giant named Bica who once resided in the Ceredigion region. The tale suggests Bica suffered from a terrible toothache, ultimately forcing him to spit the offending tooth onto the beach where it remains to this day.
A more abstract composition, highlighting the folded and weathered rocks at Llangrannog. These formations tell a story of ancient deposition, tectonic forces, and the ongoing processes shaping the Cardigan Bay coastline.
Looking to Llangrannog's southern cliffs, and the pointy crag of Pen-rhip, I wait for the sun to strike this beach boulder and use the lighting as a leading line into the composition.
The cliffs around here almost look liquid; absolutely fascinating.
I line up a series of beach boulders and outcrops in this composition towards Pen-rhip again. Also included: A group of Sikh gentlemen enjoying the sea and the scenes.
A simpler image of Carreg Bica, with people playing around its base for scale. I waited for the rising tidal waves and shot multiple frames to get the waves in just the right shape and angle.
Beyond Llangrannog we took the Ceredigion Coast Trail up onto the clifftops. Looking back gave us this wonderful, if hazy, panorama of the Llangrannog cliffs.
After a rather steep pull up the vertiginous trail, it finally descended down towards the Ynys Lochtyn peninsula. This was what awaited us.
Part way down the steep trail towards the peninsula, Lisabet—ever the keen mushroom hunter—spotted these two sizeable fungi. These look like Macrolepiota procera, or "parasol mushrooms".
Down onto the peninsula, the cliff edge views were simply awe-inspiring. My first composition here is looking back to Pendinaslochdyn hill, where you can see that part of the hill's shoulder has now fallen away into the sea. That is also where the trail is. Yikes.
Even with my 14mm ultra-wide angle lens attached, the scenes were so vast that I had to do some stitching for wide views. This composition was made of four 14mm images, stitched together to get all the incredible cliff face geology as well as the sea, hill, and dramatic sky.
Further along one of the cliff edges of Ynys Lochtyn, I shot two 14mm landscape exposures, stacked on top of each other, so I could later stitch them top-to-bottom for this ultra-expansive composition.
The peninsula was full of otherworldly and unusual geology. Sea caves, folds, synclines and anticlines, sea stacks, the works. My lovely Lisabet in the distance provides scale for the sheer drop of these cliffs into the Irish Sea.
Zooming in long with my 24-240mm allows me to focus on the natural arch and geological unconformities.
Looking back at Pendinaslochdyn and the cliffs from the northern tip of the peninsula. This is five vertical 14mm exposures, shot left to right, later stitched together into this massive panorama.
Heading clockwise from the northernmost point of the Ynys Lochtyn peninsula, a full view of the tidal island that gives its name to the peninsula comes into view. Access to this tidal island is possible only at the lowest of tides. I'm still not sure that white streak in the headland is guano or some sort of geological intrusion of a different type of rock.
From the eastern cliffs of the peninsula, I zoomed in and down to the beach of Traeth-yr-ynys directly below the sheer cliffs of Pendinaslochdyn. Folk were milling about on the beach; presumably they accessed it via kayak or boat of some nature.
Returning back to Llangrannog, the southern cliffs are home to this statue of Saint Carannog, who gives his name to this place. He is a 6th-century abbot, confessor, and saint in Wales and the West Country. He is credited with founding churches in Wales and Cornwall. There are conflicting stories about his life, but some say he fled to Wales to avoid being king.
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Ceibwr Bay & Pwll y Wrach, Pembrokeshire, Wales, Summer
Heading for the Witches Cauldron.
Heading for the Witches Cauldron.
Following the more moodier day around Aberporth and Tresaith, our planned hike to Ceibwr Bay and Pwll y Wrach beyond looked promising.
Ceibwr Bay (pronounced KYE-boorr) forms part of the Pembrokeshire Coast National Park. It’s known for its amazing cliff folds, a result of glaciation during the last Ice Age as well as the Ceibwr Bay Fault. We started our hike from further up the valley at Moylgrove, navigating the wooded valley down to the open bay. After gawping at the bay and snapping probably too many photos, we followed the trail up the cliffs along the western side of the bay. Our goal, ultimately, was to visit Pwll y Wrach, known as the “Witches Cauldron”, a collapsed cave.
It turned out to be a corker of a day, and the scenery was simply out of this world.
All photos taken on my Sony α7ii using my Sony 24-240mm F3.5-6.3 OSS zoom and Rokinon 14mm f2.8 ED AS IF UMC prime lenses. RAWs developed in Lightroom, merged together in Photomatix, edited and finalised in Photoshop.
Ceibwr Bay & Pwll y Wrach, Pembrokeshire, Wales, Summer by Ian Cylkowski is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
The northeastern folded cliffs of Ceibwr Bay. Look at those layers. Millions of years of fossilised history.
The stony beach of Ceibwr Cove is surrounded by bushes of rosehip, which I made use of for this wider composition.
The southwestern side of the cove features these folds of Carreg Bica Mudstones, interspersed with fauna wherever it can get a foothold. A wide and tightly composed image.
In fact, part way up the western clifftop path a small desire line branches off back down towards the sea. We followed it, finding these amazing folds and grooved formations, which I used as leading lines towards the folded cliffs.
A particularly sharp fold served as a dominant leading line towards the two shark fin sea stacks of Careg Wylan.
Gingerly navigating the ankle-breaking fins and folds, I edged closer to the cliff face. This wonderfully deep fold in the rocks gave me another composition to explore with the two sea stacks.
Before heading back up onto the clifftop trail, I sought a wider composition of these otherworldly folds and fins, using them as a leading line towards the deeply incised cliffs of Ceibwr.
Up on the cliff tops, extensive views north east reveal the cliffs towards Pen-yr-Afr and their spectacular synclines and anticlines. 50 million years or so, during the Caledonian Orogeny, colliding continents closed up an ocean basin and crumpled the sedimentary strata, giving rise to these impressive anticlines (upland ridges) and synclines (valleys and lowlands).
A sheer drop down to the sea at my feet, as near as I dared it, but for this vertiginous composition of Careg Wylan.
From the same point, looking north east back to Ceibwr Bay and the cliffs beyond. Unbelievable geological forces recorded here.
The smaller shark fin sea stack, part of Careg Wylan. I zoomed in tight to really feature it.
Looking down on the seemingly impossible-looking sea stack of Careg Wylan, twisting and rising like a corkscrew above the sea. Just ridiculous.
Heading further southwest before dropping down to Pwll y Wrach, a wide view opens itself to me, featuring a kaleidoscope of twisting sea stacks, gnarly cliff faces, secret sea caves, and everything in between. Around it all, wonderful azure tones in the water.
The path steeply descends down to Pwll y Wrach, the Witches Cauldron. It's a striking geological feature; a collapsed cave, formed where the sea has picked out soft crumbling shales and sandstones along a fault. The crater still connects to the sea and is a popular place for daring canoeists, which we saw. I attempted to capture the entire expanse of this collapsed cave by shooting five vertical frames at 14mm each, stitching them together into this massive panorama.
Further southwest from above, it's clear to see how Pwll y Wrach is a collapsed cave. Who knows how long the land bridge separating the cauldron from the sea will last?
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Aberport & Tresaith, Ceredigion, Wales, Summer
Where better to enjoy the last of summer than on the Welsh coast?
Where better to enjoy the last of summer than on the Welsh coast?
We’ve been to a fair bit of Wales, including Snowdonia, Bannau Brycheiniog, Anglesey, and Pembrokeshire. However, there’s a good chunk of “Mid Wales” that we haven’t touched, especially the coastline around the Cardigan Bay. This was the destination of our recent one week stay.
The coastline of Cardigan Bay definitely feels a lot more quiet compared to the Pembrokeshire Coast National Park. Saying that, it still has a lot to offer. Our first major hike of the week was the clifftop hike from Aberport to Tresaith. This was definitely one of our easier hikes, but no less rewarding.
Intermittent showers punctuated our hike, which just made scenes all the more moodier. Some of the scenes and geology around here are absolutely stunning.
All photos taken on my Sony α7ii using my Sony 24-240mm F3.5-6.3 OSS zoom and Rokinon 14mm f2.8 ED AS IF UMC prime lenses. RAWs developed in Lightroom, merged in Photomatix, then edited and finalised in Photoshop.
Aberport & Tresaith, Ceredigion, Wales, Summer by Ian Cylkowski is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
From the beach at Aberport Bay it was easy to locate the Ceredigion Coast Path, which quickly climbs up onto the cliff tops. Not long after, we soon veered away from the official trail in order to nab this incredible scene towards Tresaith, our destination, and the Ceredigion coastline beyond.
Further along the trail a rosehip bush catches my attention, along with some fishermen who'd managed to clamber down the cliffs onto the crag. I lined up this composition featuring the two subjects.
The cliffs were lush with colourful flowers, especially of the vibrant vermilion Coppertips, or Crocosmia × crocosmiiflora, (also sometimes called "montbretia"). These are actually classified as an invasive plant in the UK, with their natural habitat located in southern and eastern Africa. Curious about the fisherman on the distant crag, our next goal was to seek a way down to it.
We found a rough cut trail leading down from one of the cliffs, which got us down to this fantastic crag. I quickly equipped my 14mm ultra-wide angle lens, seeking to accentuate the lines created by the foreground rock as well as capture the vast coastal scene. My lovely Lisabet had already hopped skipped and jumped onto the crag, and graciously posed for a shot to give a good sense of scale.
From the edge of the crag I got low to emphasise the amazing geology as a compositional aid towards the cliffs of Aberport. Even on a gloomy day, the waters here were still a beautiful azure.
A short scramble up the rough cut route was all that was needed to get back onto the coastal path, but not before I nabbed this composition.
Back on the clifftops, we spotted some cormorants(?)/shags(?) perched on one of the protruding cliffs, airing their wings. I zoomed in tight for this photo, which also includes the Aberport MOD site in the distance.
Eventually the path wound its way down steeply to Tresaith. We immediately scanned along the bottom of the southern cliffs, seeking compositions of the fascinating geology here. For this photo I spotted a secluded little cove within the cliffs, featuring virgin sand. I lined up this more abstract composition. I just like it.
Another abstract composition of the southern cliffs of Tresaith, featuring a fault line and some sort of intrusion.
Further down the beach I found this rather deep sea cave that had been carved out by the Irish Sea. I tucked myself deep into the cave as far as I could, then turned back towards the sea and shot multiple exposures for this composition.
This was as far as I could manage along the southern cliffs of Tresaith, where the Irish Sea leaves no space between itself and the cliffs. Here, the cliffs were covered in brilliantly colourful moss, a nice colour contrast with red hues of the sand.
The northern cliffs of Tresaith are more popular, and this waterfall plunging into the sea is the main reason why. After some clambering over and around the slippery rocks, I lined up several compositions involving the incredible crag geology, the cliffs, and the waterfall. This one ended up being my favourite because of the extra energy lent by the rushing waves.
Facing the other direction, I sought out more interesting shapes, colours, and patterns in the local geology. I took a few turns on this composition, and as the Irish Sea was rushing in, I tried taking a few where the waves crashed against the raised crag I was on. This image was the best of the bunch.