June 22, 2019 by melitat

Day 110 Gowerton to Penbre/Burry Port 7 June 2019

I had a super drive down yesterday – just on six hours, which, considering I did not go near a motorway, was pretty good time. I chose a leisurely route, with time for morning coffee at Chipping Norton, then along the A40 all the way to Caerfyrddin/Carmarthen, although the journey was marred by the news that the Ford factory at Pen-y-bont ar Ogwr/Bridgend is to close with the loss of 1700 jobs. What with that and the works at Porth Talbot being under threat, the whole economy of South Wales will be badly hit, and it is already a poor area.

Talking economics, rather than staying at ordinary B & B, I am self-catering, in part to keep the cost down. This is not a cheap hobby if I eat in cafes and pubs twice a day for ten day at a stretch. My first location is just outside the town, on the coast path route. I have a little suite to myself – bedroom, bathroom, kitchenette, conservatory, and a deck overlooking the river. It was warm enough yesterday to sit out in my shorts – today is a complete contrast. It has been one of the wettest days of the entire walk – the only days as bad might be the morning at Beachy Head, and a couple of wet afternoons with Chris and Tom in Essex in the winter of 2013/4. The forecast was bad, so I was pleased when I hopped off the train at Gowerton at 8.45 to find that it was overcast, but dry. Between 8.45 and 10.15, there were no more than a few flurries, but by 11.00 we had moved through ordinary rain to what some of my friends call double rain.

The path is straightforward. I can see why the M4 relief road has been cancelled – the back road out of Gowerton is serving as an alternative route already – despite being single track in some parts, there was a constant stream of traffic in both directions. Eventually, the path veeredoff into woodland, then a footbridge over the A48, and through more woodland, before joining the main road as it crossed the Llwchwr estuary. The original rail crossing was built by Isambard Kingdom Brunel, and much of his work remains, although it was updated in 1907.

Original built by Brunel.

I was excited at the prospect of seeing the Llanelli Coastal Park – twenty (20???) years ago, it was one of the Millennium Commission projects that I worked on. Previously, the whole area to the south of Llanelli was industrial wasteland, but now it has been reclaimed, and there is a track running through for cyclists and walkers. I would have preferred the track to be a bit narrower, and perhaps less of it tarmac’d. It is hard underfoot and does not blend into the landscape, but I suppose it is easy cycling. The path runs through wetland, past a golf course, and sometimes comes close to the shore, although for long stretches the raised railway obscures the view. There are some nicely-designed seating areas, with slate and interesting levels in the grass, and in some parts, a profusion of wild-flowers – lots of cow-parsley and oxe-eye daisies.

Copious bird-watching opportunities…when it is not raining.

Near North Dock, I could see the leisure centre, which I knew had a café – despite having brought sandwiches, I was cold and wet, and desperate for a cuppa. I was worried it might be closed – not many people would want to be out in today’s weather, but actually, it was packed, and was rather fancier than I anticipated. I opened the door, and the waitress did her best to hide her lack of enthusiasm as I stood in the doorway with water pouring off me.

I had a bowl of soup, then had no alternative but to put my wet coat back on and march off purposefully. I did not hang about and got to Penbre/Burry Port station around 2.30. I had to wait half an hour for a train, which was a cold and dispiriting experience, but at least it was on time. I am sitting in my little conservatory, with a stray ginger cat for companion. I was asked by Mrs B & B not to encourage it, but although I ignored its cries yesterday, I couldn’t bring myself to leave it out in this weather. I hope I don’t get thrown out for breaking the rules.

Distance 11.6 miles and a Bronze day.

July 17, 2018 by melitat

Day 104 Ogmore to Cynffig Country Park 16 April 2018

Today, I was out for 12 hours. Unfortunately, only five of them were spent actually walking – the rest was waiting for public transport to arrive, sitting on public transport whilst it went nowhere, and getting to and from public transport. It has been great staying with a friend as a base, but, practically speaking, it gets very hard as you get further away, even though, in theory, there is plenty of public transport in this area of South Wales.

Things began well enough – local train to Bristol Temple Meads, mainline train to Newport, change to Bridgend and a walk to the bus stop. En route, I stopped in a local café to buy a coffee – I try to avoid chains and patronise local businesses. As I queued, the man ahead of me turned around and said:

‘I don’t know why two of them have to come to the counter. They’re only gossiping – why can’t one sit down and the other get the order?’

I made a murmuring noise.

‘And why do they have the kitchen upstairs here? There’s plenty of room for it down by here (or by yur as it is pronounced in the Valleys) – it would be much better.’

I murmured again.

‘It’s a wonder how ignorant some people are. A few years ago, I had to have an operation to cut a cancer off my ear’. He turned his head to show me his right ear.

Murmuring didn’t seem enough, so I graduated to ‘Goodness’.

‘The doctor I saw, he’s my neighbour. I told him he needed to mend the fence. He said it wasn’t his fence. Of course it is, I told him. The posts are on your side. An educated man and he didn’t know whose fence it was. It wasn’t as though he’d only been there a minute. Five years he’d been there, and didn’t know that.’

Lost for words, I repeated ‘Goodness’.

‘There’s a shop down by here, got a massive glass window it has, and they’ve gone and put a great big sign in it. Why do they want to spend all that money on the glass, and then cover it up? Two fish and chips, and I’m sitting upstairs,’ he said to the woman at the till, plonked down his money and walked away.

After this entertaining slice of local life, I got on the bus and hopped off near the pub we ate at yesterday. The other passengers had a discussion about the best place for me to alight, to find the footbridge over the Ogwr river. There are stepping stones as well, but seeing it has been so wet, the bridge seemed the better option.

I found it easily and walked over the water meadows – heavily pocked with horse hooves. The ruins of Castell Ogwr are impressive. Built in the early 1100s, possibly by the de Longmore family, it came into the Chaworth family and thence to the duchy of Lancaster, and then the crown after Henry Bolingbroke took the throne in 1399. It was still in use in the nineteenth century. On the other side of the Ogwr is the delightful village surrounding the ruins of the de Cantilupe manor of Candlestone. I did not divert to see the ruins, but enjoyed the pretty houses, the church and the spring flowers in the bright sunshine.

The track moves through a woodland to the high dunes of Merthyr Mawr – the path was fairly clear, although difficult to walk on, because trotting horses had created deep pockets in the narrow path. After a mile or so, the path comes to the beach. The tide was way out, so I could walk across the sands all the way to Porth Cawl – there is one headland where it is necessary to climb up onto the prom, but otherwise, if the tide is low, you can walk across both bays at Porth Cawl – I really enjoyed this huge expanse of firm sand even thoug the sky lowered somewhat.

At the old dockyard, the warehouses have been turned into a row of eateries, and I had an excellent lunch – the staff did no more than glance expressionlessly at my muddy trousers before seating me.

After Porth Cawl, the chimneys of Porth Talbot steel works become visible – puffing the steam that I could see last summer from the Devon shore. Devon itself was very visible – the peaks of Great Hangman and Little Hangman, where Rachel and I were in July, and even the tip of Ilfracombe.

The walk continued at the edge of the beach, and partially on the shore itself – wide sands, with some rocks, and a golf course to the inland. This eventually turned to sand dunes at the Cynffig Nature Reserve, which apparently is one of the most diverse habitats in Wales, although I saw little other than grass and gorse. I navigated successfully across (previous coast walkers have complained of getting lost, so I think the authorities must have increased the number of marker posts).

I landed at Mawdlam at around 3.45. I would like to have gone further, but had to stop in a place where I could get a bus back to Bridgend. I didn’t get back to Bristol until 7.45 – very frustrating. I can’t face similar complications tomorrow, as I would only be able to walk for a short while anyway before heading home, so will leave the next section until I have a plan to walk from place to place again. 10.6 miles and a bronze day.

June 2, 2018 by melitat

Day 101 – Cardiff to Barry 13 April 2018

It’s nearly four months since my last walk, but the weather has barely improved. The spring has been absolutely sodden – with consequences for my boots. I had forgotten that the last walk I did, in January, was on the Icknield Way in Suffolk, with my friend Jon. The ground was so boggy that every few steps we had to lean on each other to try to shake the mud off, as it was so heavy it was almost impossible to lift our feet. Unfortunately, I had slung my boots in the back of the car, then gone on holiday and forgotten to clean them. The result, when I got them out was that they were solid mud – almost like plaster casts.

I left home later than I intended, but had a good run, and was walking away from Cardiff Central Station, where I parked, around 11.40 – a few minutes to get myself facing the right way, as there are several exits, and I was off.

I walked back down to Cardiff Bay – the development there is amazing – Yr Amgueddfa Genedlaethol (National Museum) and Y Seneddd (Assembly building) are both architecturally interesting – the former is an absolute gem in copper and slate.

I walked along the Bay front, and across the Barrage. Here were lots of people around – it was grey, but not wet or cold. The barrage takes you into Penarth, where there are some rather nice houses with sea views.

The walk itself was not particularly memorable – lots of road walking, and even those parts on the shore were easy going. There was very limited visibility. At one point, I could see Flat Holme and Steep Holme, the islands in the Severn that had looked so clear from the Devon shore.

The best part, was the enormous quantity of daffodils- it has been a great year for them – cultivated ones, but also the lovely Lent lilies- some early bluebells, as well – the worst was mud.

There was a long, dreary walk on the main road into Barry, then a short element close to the docks. I was tired by this point, having got up at 5.30am. I saw a bus-stop, and thought it was time to head back – before I was there, the bus arrived. I began to run and waved frantically. The lovely bus driver stopped for me, although I was still 100 yards short of the bus -stop – you wouldn’t get that in the south-east.

A tour through the backs streets of Barry, Penarth and Cardiff brought me back to the station, and a drive down to Bristol to stay with my friend Jane finished a Bronze day.

January 12, 2018 by melitat

Day 99 Severn Tunnel Junction to Newport 21 December 2017

Today was certainly not as exciting as yesterday, but few days are. It was a very straightforward day. I arrived at Severn Tunnel Junction around 8.50, and retraced my steps for about half a mile, to rejoin the path. It crossed back over the M4, then went straight down to the sea-wall.

Looking back, the second Severn Bridge was far more visible than yesterday, despite being overcast. On the far shore, I could see Portishead where I finished at the end of October. It was too cloudy to be certain of any other landmarks.

The tidal range of the Severn river is 12m – the second highest in the world and the result is a wide expanse of mud-flats. There was not a lot of bird life visible, but all the interpretation boards told me the place is teeming with our feathered friends.

The sea wall continued more or less without interruption, before turning slightly inland and then entering the Newport Wetlands Conservation Area, which is also apparently full of migratory species, although almost the only thing I saw (other than a rookery) was a lone adolescent swan.

The Wetlands are well-named. For a good ten miles, I was bog-trotting in heavy mud, across a succession of fields, with the odd road crossing. Navigation was more-or-less straightforward, although the Newport district signage does not have the useful yellow tips that is on the waymarkers in Monmouthshire. I missed one sign which, although it only wasted five minutes, had the knock-on effect of making me miss the train at the end by one minute.

The last few miles were on the outskirts of Newport – not a place about which compliments readily spring to mind, although the City Council is obviously trying its best with a new walkway along the River Usk and an interestingly designed pedestrian bridge across it.

The weather was warm again, overcast, misty and with little wind.

A bronze day, taking me 15.9 miles.

December 15, 2017 by melitat

Day 93 Watchet to Shurton 27 Oct 2017

I’ve decided on a new ranking scheme for each day – depending on a a range of variables, weather, my mood, views, difficulty, wildlife etc. Day rankings

Today was a bronze day – one up from the standard day. It could have been a silver, but for the incident…

I caught up on sleep last night and was ready to leave by 7.30am as it was just getting light. My B & B was B1 only, so I walked down to the esplanade for breakfast, intending to be the first customer at 8am. Sadly, there was nothing to be had until 8.30. I didn’t want to wait and had had a large dinner as well as lunch yesterday, so I contented myself with a takeaway coffee and an oat crunch biscuit as a substitute for porridge.

The path makes a short climb behind the steam railway, then drops down onto a beach. I was completely mesmerised by the rock formations. It was almost like seeing the creation of the world as the beach had different layers of rock ranging from red sand to shale, then cobbles, then slabs of rock with deep grooves at an angle like frozen waves, which must eventually break up into the large cobbles.

I was walking very slowly as the surfaces were so uneven and slippery, when I felt a warm wet sensation in my right hand. I leapt in the air, the fear of God in me, and gave a shriek. I turned around to be faced by a large dog which had crept up on me – not a clatter of class so be heard. Its owner gave a perfunctory apology and mentioned that it is as well to be aware of one’s surroundings at all times. Thanks – top tip. I refrained from sharing one about the proper training of dogs.

The England coast path is not well signposted. Although there are signs pointing down to the beaches, it is not easy to know when to leave them. I saw one slip coming down and a lady walking a dog told me take it, and walk through the little hamlet behind the caravan park. With no other clues, I took her word for it. The path climbed a cliff then dropped down onto another beach with even more fascinating rock formations than the first.

It was obvious that the tide, if it came in, would be right up to the cliff, but there were no alternative route signs or warnings before you went onto the beach. Fortunately, although the tide was turning, he sea was a good way out. Enquiries of a lone angler led me back off the beach along another track which undulated gently. I could see a large herd of cows in the distance, but there was no point in borrowing trouble. The path might not go anywhere near them, and in any case, at this time of year, they should be docile.

To my right I could see a beautiful Tudor mansion nestled into the trees. Down to the shore again, then up a little path with a gate at the end and the way marker. I was just opening the stile when I heard the pounding of hooves. Yes, the cow telegraph was in operation and the whole herd was thundering towards me. I clanged the gate shut again as they pressed against it. They weren’t big, but they were young bullocks, and there were an awful lot of them. There was no way I was walking through them. I looked at the map. There was a considerable detour, but I saw no alternative. I walked down a lane, then along a track and turned back up. Doing three sides of a square, it was not clear whether the path led back into the same field, but it was a big field with a hill in the middle. Hopefully, I would not encounter the beasts again.

Of course, the path did go back into the same field, and I could see the blighters, walking back around the base of the hill. Fortunately, there were two other people coming from the direction I wanted to go in. If I were quick, I could enter the field at the same time as them, and we could give each other mutual support. They got into the field before me, and walked along the far side, where I would have walked if I had not detoured. The beasts thundered towards them. The walkers had sticks and were waving them furiously. In cowardly fashion, I thought I would just nip unobtrusively through the field corner whilst the bullocks were occupied elsewhere, but one looked round and saw me. Half of them kept the other walkers pinned up whilst half began to trot in my direction. I went as fast as I could without running, and nipped through the gate, feeling hot breath on my back.

I was depressed to find that the gate, only of wood, had no proper fastening, but it was enough to e stymied the bullocks. I shot sideways behind the hedge to take myself out of their sight. They set up a halloing and a harrumphing. I felt a bit guilty about the other people, who I could hear desperately shooing them but, peeking through the hedge, I could see the mob that had followed me still hanging hopefully around the gate. I scurried sideways to cross the field out of their line of sight in case they cracked the gate opening.

I could see Hinckley point coming ever closer. The map shows the path going around the edge of it, which was my plan, with a detour of a couple of miles inland to my accommodation. However, the path was closed and brought me the west side of the power station, down a track into Shurton. I arrived at 1.30, having done an easy 10 miles, rather than the 12 I planned, but there is no point doing more this afternoon, as I’d have to backtrack and then repeat it tomorrow. I am planning to meet Vicki and her spaniel tomorrow for a walk down the Parrett river.

Melita's Coast of Britain Walk

What on earth have I got in my rucksack?

Bronze