Llanelli - Bosherston,
18th – 23rd September 2017
Monday 18th September 2017 Llanelli – Burry Port
Burrying Last Year’s Memories
Our drive to
Wilmslow Station has become an annual pilgrimage. Jill drove us over yet again
for the start of stage three of our walk along the Wales Coast Path. Last year
we had finished at Llanelli so it was to there that we were returning on the
09.46 train. It was a splendid journey through the Welsh Marches and along the
south coast. We arrived a few minutes early and were walking out of the station
before 2pm. We had our photographs taken in front of last year’s finishing
point. Unfortunately the lady who we asked to take the photograph, a
photographer by hobby, failed to find the shutter button.
So, with our
start unrecorded, we went into the Flanagan’s Café in the Discovery Centre on
the waterfront and had coffee and carrot cake. It was easy walking along the
millennium cycle route, tarmac all the way, into Burry Port with its lifeboat station
and lovely harbour. The guesthouse was adjacent to the station, squeezed in
between two pubs. Our landlady could not recommend either of these but sent us
round the corner to what was deemed the best pub food in town.
Llanelli
Station dep. 13.57, Burry Port arr. 16.20
5 miles in 1hr 53m walking time plus 30 minutes in Flanagan’s café
(14.15.- 14.45).
We stayed in
the Globe Guesthouse, Stepney Road, Burry Port. We ate in the Cornish Arms,
steak & ale pie followed by spotted dick and custard. The beers were both
from Swansea breweries, Boss Beatle Juice (4.8%) and Gower Gold (4.5%).
Tuesday 19th September 2017 Burry Port - Carmarthen
Up the Estuary
It was a
lovely bright morning with lots of blue sky and a gentle breeze. An early
breakfast led to an early start and we were heading down to the harbour by
8.50am. An easy start on firm trails through the dunes took us into a country
park that had obviously had an industrial heritage. Paths led through woodland
passed a narrow-gauge railway and onto the beach. There was a two mile stretch
along the firm wet sand closer to the sea. The route off the beach was
indicated to us by a guy from the Llanelli Ramblers. We scrambled into the
dunes and out onto a forest track and into a quiet part on Pembrey Forest.
After emerging from the trees, the route crossed farmland that adjoined an old
airfield. We could hear racing cars being test-driven around the motor track
beyond.
The route
took to the main road towards Kidwelly but, instead of heading for the town
centre, went west on a huge loop that took in the now disused Kymer Canal to
Kidwelly Quay. Then it was back across the railway line in search of a café for
some lunch. This we fell across on the main street up to the bridge and I had scones
and coffee to revive the flagging spirits.
Emerging from our rest stop, we were soon over the bridge and walking on
the north bank of the river through a town park. This led us out onto a quiet
lane and up a steep wet and rough track to the hill-top village of Llansaint.
Then it was a roller-coaster of a section over hills, through woods and across
steams before coming down a very steep set of steps into Ferryside. This is a
very long village stretched out along the train track and giving maybe two
miles of suburban walking. I began to notice that the mileages given in this
section of the guidebook were very inaccurate. The planned 22-mile day was
turning out to be significantly longer.
The next
section did not follow the river estuary but turned inland to take to rarely
walked field paths that wound through high ground to the east. The pace
dropped, the miles ticked slowly by and we made slow progress across the wet
and slippery farm land. By the time we expected to be arriving in Carmarthen,
we were still two miles south of the town dropping down straight and
featureless roads to the main school. Here we joined major roads at rush-hour
and we had great problems in crossing the town by-pass and its various
junctions and roundabouts. Eventually we emerged from a pedestrian tunnel to
find ourselves outside our b&b. A most welcome sight. We felt slightly betrayed by the guide book
which, on what was to be our longest day, underestimated the distance by more
than 2 miles. The mistake seems to have occurred in the Burry Port to Kidwelly
section where 2 miles suddenly goes missing.
Burry Port
dep. 08.47, Carmarthen arr. 17.20 GPS 23.86
miles in 8hr 07m 36s moving plus a 25 minute (12.25 – 12.50) stop in ‘Time for
Tea’ café in Kidwelly.
We stayed at
Tir Celyn, Emlyn Terrace, Carmarthen. We walked into town to Yr Hen Dderwen, a Weatherspoon’s pub in King Street. I had a fish
& chips and pancakes & ice cream. I started with Towy Gold (4.4%) from
Castle Gate Brewery, Carmarthen and then went on to Ein Stein (5.0%) from
Lymestone Brewery in Stone. We were so tired after this hard day that we took a
taxi back to our b&b.
Wednesday 20th September 2017 Carmarthen – St Clears
An Estuary Too Far
The forecast
was not good so we got an early start in the hope of getting as far down the
other side of the estuary before the rain arrived. On a cool cloudy morning we
returned to the town centre and the river, this time crossing over a footbridge
near the railway station. A riverside path took us under the rather unusual
railway bridge. It looked as if it was designed to be able to lift to allow
boats through. The encroaching vegetation showed that the lifting mechanism had
not been used for many years. A long section on the rather busy road was broken
up by being signed to run parallel to the road behind the hedges. These fields
were wet and slippery and had steps and board walks in places so it was
tempting to carry on down the road. Eventually though, a vital path down to the
river was the one to follow as the road swung away. Our route emerged from the
wood to cross farmland and estates, climbing as it went towards Llangain. Here
was a lovely old church with a short stumpy spire. We bypassed the village and
headed down a lane, losing all the height we had just gained. The next hill was
climbed by a series of paths that were hard to navigate. Issues had obviously
been had with landowners over this rather unsatisfactory section. After another
descent and climb, the way forward was much more direct if a lot wetter. The
final descent into Llansteffan was along a boggy, sunken greenway between two
overgrown hedges. If this was not wet enough, it now began to rain and I was
fighting to get the umbrella between all the brambles and thorns. We emerged
into the upper part of the village and marched down to the seafront to get our
overdue café stop. But we were to be disappointed.
The cafes in
Llansteffan are subject to half-day closure on Wednesdays and, as sod’s law
would have it, today was a Wednesday. All that was open was a kiosk and a
wooden shelter in which to drink my take-away coffee. So it was not long before
we were searching for the way out of town, which began with a straight climb between
two fences and continued with a lovely contour beneath the castle in a wood
dripping with rain water. A climb on grassy paths over the next headland led us
back to a lane and a section on tarmac. The next few miles were a complex mix
of road and field paths as the route wound its way up yet another estuary as
the rain came down in increasingly heavier pulses. The last road section was
two miles long and took us to the foot of a steady climb up fields passed a
trig point and then down to a farm and a steep descent through a wood into
increasing wetter fields. The very last stile at the bottom of these fields was
in a bottomless mire. We were up to our knees in gluttonous sludge as we tried
to scramble through. All that remained was a short walk down a concrete farm-track,
over a bridge and passed some new house and, as we emerged onto the main road
in the village of St Clears, there was our b&b in front of us. Soaked to
the skin, we rang the doorbell expecting a warm welcome. Instead we got a dazed
look and ‘I was expecting you tomorrow’. ‘But I booked for Wednesday’, I
explained. ‘I thought it was Tuesday’ replied Bev, our landlady. ‘If you had
been looking for a coffee shop in Llansteffan, you would have known it was a
Wednesday’, were my thoughts. But she took us in, dried our clothes and looked
after us very well. What a great shame the smoke alarms started ringing during
the night.
Carmarthen dep.
08.51, St Clears arr. 16.20, GPS 19.86 miles in 7hrs 07m 42s walking time plus
a short stop at Llanstaffan for a takeaway coffee drunk in a shelter.
We stayed in Manordaf b&b and ate at the Santa Clara
Inn. I had a wonderful meal of pork belly pork and mash. The beer was
Wadsworths 6X (4.1%) so I went onto red wine later on. The landlord, who
originally told us that we could not watch the United match on Sky Sports, then
found that we were ‘reds’, showed us his shrine to United upstairs (a lifetimes
collection of memorabilia) and then turned the television on in the bar and
watched the match with us.
Thursday 21st September 2017 St Clears – Saundersfoot
Brown as Owls
It had
rained all night and it was still overcast as we set off south along a busy
road back towards the sea along the west side of the estuary. In an attempt to
get walkers off the road, the official route kept diving into fields on either
side, fields that were sodden with overnight rain and were featureless and
inadequately signed. After trying a few of these pointless diversions, we
headed back to the road and sanity. Just after the hamlet of Cross Inn (no
inn), we took a turn to the left and re-joined the coast path near a caravan
site. The route returned to the riverside, now a wide estuary, and took us along
a lovely if rather wet wooded riverbank emerging at Dylan Thomas’s Boathouse, his
family home in the post war years. The little work-shed next door was the
highlight of my trip so far. The setting was a delight and you could hear the
bird cries and see the heron priested shore, just as he described in his
poetry. The track dropped quickly into
the streets of the beautiful town of Laugharne. We passed along the main street
and round to the magnificent castle. Here a coach was disgorging its load of
golden oldies and we felt back on the tourist route after a long spell in the
wilderness of estuary country.
Another
fabulous section of footpaths led over a shoulder of St John’s Hill following
the route of Dylan Thomas’s birthday walk described in ‘Poem in October’. The
seats and information boards contained quotations from the poem including the
description of the castle beneath us, ‘brown as owls’. Eventually the route round
the base of the hill ended in some quarry workings and we were forced back onto
the main road. Here we were once again faced with the prospect of walking
behind hedges in fields that were full of water, mud and cattle. We had learnt by
now that life was too short to jump in puddles when a perfectly good
alternative was available. So we spend half an hour marching along the road
making good time in fast improving weather towards Pendine and its promised
cafes. From Llanmiloe and its long line of military housing there was a
footpath/cycleway for the last two miles into town and we were free of traffic
worries. On the sea-front there were several cafes but we soon honed into a
delightful little tea shop which boasted excellent chocolate cake. Sitting
outside in the sunshine we were able to view the coast line that awaited us.
The land of the estuaries and field paths was behind us. In front was what we
had come for, raw coastal scenery.
But that
coastal scenery came at a price. The next two hours involved three huge climbs
over Gilman Point and Marros Beacon. In the afternoon sunshine it provided us with
magnificent walking. Eventually we descended to a narrow footbridge over a
small stream that demarcated the border with Pembrokeshire. One last climb and we were on our way down to
Amroth and the start of the Pembrokeshire Way. It had taken us three hard years
of walking to finally get here. Before leaving Amroth, we fell into
conversation with Martyn Baguley, an Edinburgh man who had just produced a book
‘Wildwood Legacy’ about his work in the Pentland Hills. The last couple of
miles were over pleasant undulating coastal hills into Wiseman’s Bridge.
Although Saundersfoot was laid out in front of us, there seemed no way of
reaching it at high tide. But people were walking up the promenade towards a
cliff wall so we followed. The lo and behold, there were a series of tunnels
that took us under the headlands into the main street. A helpful shopkeeper
pointed out our guesthouse and we were soon enjoyed our splendid accommodation.
St Clears
dep. 08.53, Saundersfoot arr. 17.00, GPS
19.37 miles in 7hr 31m 06s walking time plus a 25 min (12.35-13.00) break in
Pendine at the ‘Tea by the Sea’ cafe.
We stayed at
the superb Harbourlight Guesthouse and ate at the Salvage Bar just down the
road. Here, steak and ale pie was washed
down with some magnificent beers from Tenby Harbour Brewery, pale ale M.V.
Enterprise (4.0%) and an IPA Caldey Lollipop at 4.5%.
Friday 22nd September 2017 Saundersfoot – East
Trewent
Blown Off-Course
It was
another bad forecast, our second in three days. This corner of Wales was being
battered by a series of storms coming in from the Atlantic. So we had another early start to try to beat
the weather. But by the time we had climbed over the wooded hills into Tenby,
it was beginning to rain. And by the time we had toured round the town centre
and broken out onto the south beach, the wind had picked up and the predicted
gale had arrived. In this driving wind, a crossing of the beach was not
appealing so we took the alternative route behind the dunes and alongside the
railway line. The signed path crossed the railway and took to the roadside through
the hamlet of Penally. It then returned to the coast over a shooting range that
was not being used in these dreadful conditions. We then really got savaged by
the wind, having our rain-covers ripped off our rucksacks. Phil had to rescue
his Eurohike cover from a fence in a distant field. I lost a water bottle in
the fight to stay upright. We had hoped desperately for a coffee shop in
Lydstep Haven but, in all the holiday homes and hotels by the shore, there was
only a takeaway machine in a small shop.
So we
battled up onto the next headland and back into the raging storm. The official
path circumnavigated a military installation before returning to the cliff
edge. Again we hoped beyond hope for a shelter at Manorbier. We were soaked
though and getting cold at the slower pace that we were struggling to maintain.
The path was so wet and slippery that I was finding it a nightmare to keep my
feet. As we rounded the last headland before Manorbier, the wind blew us
towards the edge and I slipped and fell spectacularly down the path. Phil
picked me up and ushered me across the deserted beach with no signs of any
respite from the downpour. ‘This is getting dangerous’ he said, trying to talk
some sense into me as I climbed out the other side. ‘Let’s find an inland
alternative’. And we did. We followed the nearest lane to the sea for the
remaining three miles into Freshwater East. It was better to arrive safely and
live to fight another day. Our accommodation was a more than a mile further on,
a farm complex in East Trewent.
Saundersfoot
dep. 08.53, East Trewent arr.16.20, GPS 16.16 miles in 6hrs 14m 34s walking
time. The owner took us back to the Freshwater Inn for a meal. I had braised
duck and red cabbage pie and some Gwaun Valley beer from near Fishguard, King
of the Road (4.5%) and Felinfoel from near Llanelli, Double Dragon (4.2%). A
taxi came out from Pembroke to answer our needs for the return trip to the
farm.
Saturday 23rd September 2017 East Trewent - Bosherston
Bosherston or Bust
It was most
disappointing to see that the promised better weather had not arrived. On
opening the curtains in the morning, the drizzle was still blowing on the
breeze and the clouds were down to sea level forming a mist driving in from the
coast. We needed an early start and a good pace today to make the bus
connection for our lunchtime train home. So we were breakfasted and packed
before 9am and in our wet gear for retracing our steps from the farm back to
Freshwater East. A short cut put us onto the coast path and up a wet and
slippery climb to the first hilltop of the day. This however proved the only
significant climb. We were soon on more level but undulating clifftop and
making good progress at last.
As we began
the descent into Stackpole Quay, the weather began to improve. The rain had
stopped and bright skies were seen approaching. The Quay had a National Trust
carpark and a café but this was no time for such frivolities. We had a bus to
catch and time was moving on so we pushed the pace up a steep set of steps and
out onto the cliffs leading to Barafundle Bay. As we approached the bay, it
became obvious that the only viable route was down the steps onto the sand and
then over the beach. The exit from this strand was up another steep path that
led out onto the relatively flat grassland of Stackpole Point. We then began a
route march across the grassy terrain that led us through a dune system and onto
a sharp descent to Broad Haven. Time was now of the essence and we had little
opportunity for optimal route finding as we scrabble down the beach over rugged
layers of abrasive rock, wading a stream and striding across the soft sand not
knowing where we could get out on the other side. We followed a couple of
walkers through the sand dunes and almost fell into some concrete steps. In no
time we were in the car park at Tefelin and on the road to Bosherston. We got
to the bus stop just minutes before the bus. But as this had to make a 15
minute round of coastal pick-ups before returning to the village, we had a
quick cup of coffee in the village café and caught the bus on its return. On
what was now a sunny morning, our third year on the path was at an end
and we were on our way home.
The bus
driver was a treasure, giving us a history lesson of Pembroke and Pembroke Dock
as he drove us to the station. We were in good time for the Swansea Train and
had opportunities to change out of our damp walking gear. The two hour ride
back to Swansea was a replay in reverse of this year’s walk, a delightful trip
spoilt only by a set of young and rowdy football supporters off to watch a match.
A 45-minute wait at Swansea gave us the opportunity of a sandwich in the
station café before we joined the Manchester train for the long ride north.
Inebriated groups was the order of the day: first a group of young people
warming up for a night out in Cardiff, then just when it seemed quiet again, a
set of very drunk football supporters boarding at Shrewsbury. But eventually
the train rolled into Wilmslow Station and there was Jill, waiting to take us
home to a meal, shower and a good long rest.
