Tom Hutton takes a walk around one of Snowdon's more secluded surrounding mountain ranges.

As Snowdon becomes increasingly popular, so the surrounding mountain ranges start to feel more and more remote, and nowhere is this more apparent than in the Moelwyns, where it's still possible to walk for hours without seeing a soul. This walk makes a logical and reasonably easy round of the peaks at the southern end of the range – Moelwyn Mawr and Moelwyn Bach - and, whilst it catches the remote and wild flavour the massif is famous for, it follows mainly clear paths making it an ideal introduction to the range. The opening leg climbs the mighty Moelwyn Mawr via its shapely west ridge. It starts easily enough but becomes rougher the higher you go. The middle section links the two Moelwyn peaks via a 'scrambly' path that hurdles a minor peak along the way. This is followed by a steep and airy walkway that leads onto Moelwyn Bach. The descent is about as kind as it could be: soft underfoot and with fine views west over the sea.

Tom Hutton's latest guide is on pages 14-17.

Britain is an island surrounded by islands, so this month Karen Foy sets off to one of these 'outposts' to discover, amongst other things, the story behind a village which is 'alphabetically challenged'.

Separated from the Welsh mainland by the Menai Straits, the isle of Anglesey boasts spectacular scenery and wildlife, but it has another 'claim to fame' as the home of the longest-named village in Britain.

Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch – often shortened to Llanfairpwll – has been inhabited for centuries. Originally a small rural settlement, it began to see major changes with the arrival of the Railways in the early 1850s. Divided into the Lower Village (Pentre Isaf) and the Upper Village (Pentre Uchaf), it became a commercial community with shopkeepers, schools, public houses and a post office, which could all serve the surrounding agricultural areas.Originally known as Llanfair Pwllgwyngyll - meaning 'The Mary Church by the pool near the White Hazels' - the extended name is said to have been invented by a local cobbler in the 19th century to encourage tourists and boost commerce – its popularity with visitors today is testament that the plan definitely worked! Notwithstanding this act of shrewd business acumen, Llanfairpwll is surrounded by constructions and buildings which have made their mark in history and are attractions in their own right.

See pages 6-9 for more on this "alphabetically challenged" village.

This is the story of the eventful life of a modest man – and a cat. It is a story of the sea, stowaways, adventure, and a final sardine.

Perce Blackborow was born in Newport, Gwent, in April 1894 to a seagoing family. His father, John, was a ship's steward and clearly Perce wished to follow in his father's footsteps. He was so keen to go to sea that he added a year to his age, as young boys often did. One of his earliest engagements was serving as a deck hand on a London-registered ship, the 'Ladywood', from which he was discharged in 1912. The next record of him is on the ship 'Golden Gate', which was wrecked at Montevideo, Uruguay, in 1914, leaving Perce and a couple of friends stranded in South America: and so they travelled to Buenos Aires looking for a new ship.

The polar explorer, Ernest Shackleton, left London for Antarctica on 1 August 1914 onboard the 'Endurance'. The object of the expedition was to cross the Antarctic, from one side to the other, via the South Pole. Pausing at Buenos Aires, he sacked three of his crew - employment opportunities were suddenly created! Perce's two friends were taken on as able seamen, but the inexperienced Perce was not. However, his friends smuggled him onboard, hid him in a locker, and brought him food as often as they could. This has subsequently given Perce Blackborow notoriety as the only man ever to have stowed away on an expedition to the extreme weather of Antarctica! When he was eventually discovered, after three days, he had been so cramped that he couldn't stand and Shackleton had to put him in a chair to interview him. It was a very heated interview and it ended with 'the Boss' (as Shackleton was called), saying to Perce:

"Do you know that on these expeditions we often get very hungry and if there is a stowaway available he is the first to be eaten?"

Perce's spirited response was to say, "They'd get a lot more meat off you, sir."

Shackleton sent him to join the cook as a steward. Frankly, there wasn't much else Shackleton could do other than throw Perce overboard, and even in those days such an act would have been largely frowned upon.

To read more about Perce Blackborow see pages 21-22.

It has been a very busy couple of months and I am looking forward to a pleasant few days in Normandy in September. The beginning of July saw a massive effort to get the whole town spruced up. I have never seen so many volunteers rushing around tidying the place up with a dab of paint here and a cleaning of windows there. The reason for this feverish activity was that HRH the Prince of Wales and the Duchess of Cornwall were coming to the town to visit local businesses and discuss his ideas for the Cambrian Mountains Initiative (C.M.I), of which he is patron.

 He visited a microbrewery and pulled a very good pint, an electronics firm and the recently opened butchers where he was presented with a leg of Beulah Speckled lamb. He visited us at Carlton Restaurant for a chat with the Cambrian Mountains' Ambassadors to clarify his hopes and ambitions for the initiative. He was absolutely charming and I think that this initiative is a very promising start to establishing the Cambrian Mountains as an area in its own right with wonderful produce and stunning scenery to attract visitors from all over.  

Following the Royal visit I had a very busy day at the Cardigan Bay Seafood Festival where my colleagues and I cooked up all sorts of fish and, despite the weather, a good crowd turned out to support the day. In the evening there was quite a party, over which some would rather draw a veil. Suffice to say there were some sore heads at breakfast the next day!

We were very busy throughout July culminating in the Royal Welsh Week when we hosted the Swedish sheep-shearing team who were here for the world sheep shearing competition at the showground. There were competitors from as far afield as New Zealand and Lesotho, and most of them were staying here in Llanwrtyd Wells - it made for quite a multicultural few days.

Read more from Mary Ann on pg 30.

Moc's Commandments, or rather his guidelines, for successful fishing.

My first commandment could therefore read: 'Thou shalt not fish any river, a beat of a river, nor a pool of a river unless you are assured that it holds a good stock of sewin.' This entails a daylight 'recce' and gathering information from the locals before you chose your location. It is always advisable to contact a friend to glean the local gen, as rivers vary in habits, try and find out if and when the sewin runs had taken place and where the sewin stayed.

The second commandment comes from my foolishness of fishing in the wrong location and not ensuring that my flies covered the correct holding area. I was fishing the River Dwyfor in North Wales; there were reports of big fish being taken regularly the previous week – but I was ill prepared and at midnight was fishless. Along came a local doyen who took me some forty yards up-river, made me stand in the middle of the pool and showed me exactly where to cast. Three casts resulted in a brace of sewin and one that kicked off. He also made me use his 'deadly fly' the Kingfisher Butcher on a size eight hook - the value local knowledge!

Moc Morgan OBE on page 13.