It must have been almost exactly thirty years ago that I first stumbled across Plas Brondanw. I had scrambled in the morning to the top of Cnicht, with its delicate rocky ridge and fine views over a Tremadog Bay that at low tide had been scoured of all its waters. Above,two red beaked choughs, and below all celandines, ochres and emeralds in the summer sunshine. Cnicht has a handsome little peak, especially when viewed from Tremadog Bay and the lovely little tidal inlet of Treath Bach. From this direction, Cnicht affects to look a little like the Matterhorn, a solid triangle of rock, in winter often draped in snow, that pushes up above an uncluttered horizon.
Those native to this corner of Wales well appreciate that such comparisons to the Swiss peak are an affront to Cnicht.