Walk 394 -- Stackpole Quay to Freshwater East

(The bus times were so awkward today we decided to do this Walk in two parts instead.)

Ages: (a) Colin was 79 years and 44 days. Rosemary was 76 years and 186 days. (b) Colin was 79 years and 45 days. Rosemary was 76 years and 187 days.

Weather: (a) Fair-weather cloud. Breezy but warm. (b) Hot and sunny with a cooling breeze when we could get it.

Location: Stackpole Quay to Freshwater East.

Distance: 3 miles.

Total distance: 3981 miles.

Terrain: Grassy cliff paths. Undulating but steps at the beginning where needed, not at the end. 

Tide: (a) Coming in. (b) Out.

Rivers: None.

Ferries: None.

Piers: None.

Kissing gates: None. 

Pubs: None.

‘Cadw’ properties: None.

Ferris wheels: None.

Diversions: None.

How we got there and back: We were caravanning at Freshwater East. (a) We drove to Stackpole Quay and parked in the National Trust car park. (b) We didn't use the car at all today. We walked from our caravan down to the beach and picked up the cliff path towards Stackpole Quay. When we reached the halfway point, Greenala Fort, we turned back.

At the end (a) we came to what we considered to be the halfway point, Greenala Fort. We turned round and walked back to Stackpole Quay. After consuming a takeaway lunch at the cafe we tried to drive back to Freshwater East. But the road was closed due to roadworks and we had to go a long way round via Pembroke and Lamphey. A truck was stuck on the bridge at Lamphey which held us up for about half an hour. (b) We walked back to our caravan and had lunch there.

The next day we towed our caravan home to Malvern. 

 

 

 

I can't believe we have a grandson of 32!! Jamie was born on the 21^st June 1989, and we had a lot to do with him as he was growing up. We were very close at the time. But now he lives in Atlanta, USA, and we haven't seen him for three years. That's the way of the world! (The picture is of him, left, with his partner, Matt)

 

 

 

 

(a) We left Stackpole Quay on a steep cliff path, but at least it had steps cut into it. As soon as we got up high we went down almost to sea level again, but that seemed to be the order of the day.

There was a large rock on the rocky beach at that point which showed how the layers of rock had been wrinkled up and then eroded — a true piece of naked geology!

The views were wonderful for the whole Walk. We met a lot of other hikers on this Walk, the Pembrokeshire Coast Path is very popular. 

We passed a sinkhole and could hear the sea gurgling at the bottom of it. We inched as near as we dared to the edge, and could actually see the water at the bottom of the pit. 

There were a huge variety of wild flowers along the route with loads of insects buzzing around them.

A true wildflower meadow, but only for a narrow strip along the coast. 

We walked as far as Greenala Point which we reckoned was halfway between Stackpole Quay and Freshwater East. It is a rocky headland with the remains of an ancient fort on it. There we turned back. 

(b) We started at Greenala Point at the exact spot behind the fort where we had turned round yesterday. The views were spectacular and it was very clear.

At the top of one hill we climbed was a notice on a gate saying “Lundy View”. Sure enough, very faint on the horizon we could just make out Lundy Island which is in North Devon! Looking back we could see Barafundle Bay, in the sunshine today!

The slopes seemed even more steep on this half of the Walk, both up and down. But we coped — taking it very slowly. We saw a lot of rock falls and wondered how recent they were. 

At the top of Trewent Point we walked to the end instead of just cutting across like we had earlier on the way out. It was rather overgrown and underwhelming. I had hoped there would be a seat at the end so we could sit and soak in the view — but there wasn't so we couldn't. 

Freshwater East beach looked great from up there. We had to negotiate a long and steep path coming down to the beach, which was a great strain on my knees. There were no steps. But my knees coped with it, as did I. 

I took a photo of flowering succulents on a garden wall — a dazzling picture! We crossed the stream at the bottom, and that was the end of the Walk. 

 

That ended Walk no.394, we shall pick up Walk no.395 next time where the stream crosses the road at Freshwater East. It was twenty-five to two, so the Walk had taken us two hours forty-five minutes. We walked back to our caravan and had lunch there. 

The next day we towed our caravan home to Malvern.

Walk 393 -- Bosherston Lily Ponds to Stackpole Quay

 Ages: Colin was 79 years and 43 days. Rosemary was 76 years and 185 days. 

Weather: Drizzle which kept coming and going. 

Location: Bosherston Lily Ponds to Stackpole Quay. 

Distance: 3 miles. 

Total distance: 3978 miles. 

Terrain: A steep and difficult start over soft sand. Otherwise gently undulating grassy cliff paths. 

Tide: In. 

Rivers: None. 

Ferries: None. 

Piers: None. 

Kissing gates: Nos.958, 959 and 960. 

Pubs: None. 

‘Cadw’ properties: None. 

Ferris wheels: None. 

Diversions: None. 

How we got there and back: We were caravanning at Freshwater East. This morning we drove to Stackpole Quay and parked in the National Trust car park. The bus times were too awkward to use today, so we walked to Eight Arch Bridge, then alongside one of the lily ponds to the bench overlooking Broad Haven South beach. 

At the end we came to Stackpole Quay and drove back to our caravan at Freshwater East. 

 

We started today's Walk by sitting on the bench at the end of the lily ponds overlooking Broad Haven Beach where we finished the last Walk. We had just completed a lovely saunter from Stackpole Quay via Eight Arch Bridge, so we rested there and ate our lunch. The coast path almost immediately left the lily ponds, which we have very much enjoyed walking round over the past few days, and took us up an almost vertical slope of very soft sand. Every time we put a foot forward it slipped down again almost to where it had started — it was a real struggle to get up to the top of the cliffs. But it was well worth it for the views over Broad Haven Beach and the lily ponds. 

It was a relief to get on to a firm grassy path. We were both wearing our kags already, but when the drizzle intensified we struggled into our overtrousers. Then the rain practically stopped, of course! I took my overtrousers off pretty soon because I find them too hot and I'd rather have wet trouser legs.

We walked round several inlets and a huge sinkhole looking at the rocks. But when we got to Stackpole Head the wind and rain intensified. It was really quite nasty out there, so we cut across the 'neck' and missed it out. 

We were surprised at the number of people out walking the cliff paths on this rainy day — not what we're used to. But we Brits have come to appreciate the natural world a lot more since Covid struck. Most of us have to holiday at home this year because foreign travel is so difficult with all the new rules and regulations which seem to change on a daily basis.

If you manage to get to your foreign resort for a holiday, you never know whether you'll be able to get home without having to spend over £1000 to isolate in a hotel for ten days. So all British resorts are crowded out this year. 

As we descended to Barafundle Bay the rain eased off, and we felt nothing under the trees. Barafundle has been my favourite beach ever since I first discovered it back in the 1970s. I had really been looking forward to getting there on our Grand Coastal Trek, and I was mildly annoyed that it was raining on the very day we passed through. The trouble is that nowadays this remote and lovely beach, which is completely undeveloped and can only be reached by walking across the cliff tops, has been discovered by far too many other people. I was counting the discarded plastic bottles, and Colin saw at least half a dozen throwaway barbecues strewn on the sand. So sad. But the beach is still beautiful! 

We walked across the sand, then climbed the steep steps out of it. At the top we sat down just to gaze at this amazing strip of sand to really appreciate it. (If only we were there on our own, not having to share it with about a hundred other people!) 

Eventually we tore our selves away and walked a mile over the hill to Stackpole Quay which is a tiny rocky harbour built in the 19^th century for the limeworks nearby. 

That ended Walk no.393, we shall pick up Walk no.394 next time at the entrance to Stackpole Quay. It was twenty to three, so the Walk had taken us two hours ten minutes. We walked up to the car park and drove back our caravan at Freshwater East.

Walk 392 -- Merrion to Bosherston Lily Ponds

Ages: Colin was 79 years and 42 days. Rosemary was 76 years and 184 days. 

Weather: Mostly sunny with quite a cool breeze. 

Location: Merrion to Bosherston Lily Ponds. 

Distance: 7 miles. 

Total distance: 3975 miles. 

Terrain: The first two miles were along a concrete road across the ranges. Mostly a clifftop track, sometimes stony and sometimes grassy. Slightly undulating but there was one deep cleft. We also descended the cliffs to a chapel. Deep sand beach at the end. 

Tide: In, going out. 

Rivers: None. 

Ferries: None. 

Piers: None. 

Kissing gates: None. 

Pubs: None. 

‘Cadw’ properties: None. 

Ferris wheels: None. 

Diversions: None. 

How we got there and back: We were caravanning at Freshwater East. This morning we drove to Bosherston and parked in the National Trust car park. We caught the bus to Merrion and were dropped off at the gate which leads across the ranges. This gate was open today, and the red flag had been taken down. 

At the end we came to a bench overlooking Broad Haven South beach. It is situated at the end of Bosherston Lily Ponds. After a rest, we walked alongside one of the lily ponds back to the car park. Then we drove back to our caravan at Freshwater East. 

 

My injured thumb is still a little bit sore, but it is nearly back to normal now. The gate to the ranges was open, so we were able to do today's planned Walk. The first couple of miles were boring, we walked an almost straight concrete road leading from the crossroads, where we got off the bus, to the sea.

About halfway along we came to another crossroads where range traffic could go across. A young soldier was standing there all day making sure that the general public didn't stray off course. What a job! We felt sorry for him. We heard skylarks as we walked down, lots of them. And we noted a few bent trees and bushes — it must get very windy there at times. 

On arrival at the car park at the top of the cliffs, we veered a little to the right to look at the natural rock arch called “The Green Bridge of Wales”. It is quite spectacular. Next to it is a rock stack which was covered in squawking guillemots — we had heard them from well down the road as we were approaching. 

While we were watching them, I happened to notice that a couple of cyclists had lifted their bikes over a gate to the west and were cycling off over Castlemartin Ranges! Now, I was under the impression that those ranges are permanently out of bounds because of all the ordnance that has been left there. I walked over to the gate to read the notices which were the usual “Keep Out” variety, but the one on the gate talked about “permit holders”.

Then two hikers came up and climbed over the padlocked gate. So I asked them, and they said you could get a permit by filling in a form online and handing it in to the soldier we had passed further back at the crossroads. I was miffed at this because I knew nothing about it. We had discounted Castlemartin Ranges as a dead loss and did that last Walk on a deadly inland route round them. Ah well, it's done now. 

 

 

We continued eastwards along the track, passing more guillemots squabbling on stack rocks on the way. We saw lots of wild flowers, especially lovely were the wild orchids we found.

The track went in a much straighter line than the actual coast, and at times seemed to veer away from it. But we discovered, when we went to look for a suitable bush to “water”, that there wasn't really any other path, and that it was very difficult trying to walk over rough ground. So we stuck to the track. 

After passing Bullslaughter Bay — what a lovely name! — the track turned a corner in order to follow the coast. It divided into two — the shorter one went through a deep dip and the longer one went through a shallower dip. We chose the longer one. We looked around for somewhere to eat our lunch. Colin chose some rocks next to an old World War II pill-box. It was perfect! We were out of the wind and had a lovely view back across Bullslaughter Bay. 

We hoofed on. It was a bit boring because we continued to follow the track a little bit inland from the cliff edge. But at least there were no clefts! We passed the occasional rusty tank, just to remind us we were on Army land. 

Eventually we came to some spectacular inlets, one of which is called “Huntsman's Leap”. The story goes that a huntsman was being chased along the clifftop by some pirates. In desperation he leapt, on his horse, across the narrow cutting. Had the horse missed, they both would have plunged to their deaths on the rocks below. They made it safely across, but then the huntsman looked back at what he had just done and died of shock! 

At last we came to the car park at St Govan's. The tiny chapel in the cleft of the cliff has intrigued me since the 1970s when I first discovered it. A few years ago I wrote a poem about the story in the form of a villanelle. I entered it into our local U3A Welsh group's Eisteddfod, but it didn't win me the Bard's Chair! However, here it is: 

 

The Chapel in the Cliff

Where to hide ? Where to hide ? Just cliffs and sea !

The pirates tried to kidnap me . Oh God !

A fissure opens up ! God is with me !

Govan is my name . From across the sea

To visit Wales to preach, this path I trod .

Where to hide ? Where to hide ? Just cliffs and sea !

A ransom they will ask, to release me .

I am a holy monk, a man of God !

A fissure opens up ! God is with me !

Rocks close above my head . They cannot see

Nor know the fear which is beneath the sod .

Where to hide ? Where to hide ? Just cliffs and sea !

They’ve gone away, back to sea . I am free !

The fissure opens up . Thank you, my God !

The fissure opens up ! God is with me !

But a coward I’ve been ! Shame engulfs me .

I’ll stay, I’ll build a chapel to my God.

Where to hide ? Where to hide ? Just cliffs and sea !

A fissure opens up ! God is with me !

We went down the steps into the chapel which is empty. We went out the other side where we found some rocks to sit on and eat the second half of our lunches. There were lots of people coming and going, most with a mobile phone in hand as people do these days.

I carefully counted the steps coming down, and again when we went up. Legend has it that it is never the same coming down as it is going up, and I wanted to disprove this ancient story. I was so careful to count correctly. I made it 76 steps coming down, and 77 going up — Aaaaaaaaaahh!

As I emerged, a man standing there with an ice cream in his hand said, “That looks hard! But the ice creams are good, I can recommend them!” What a good idea! So we went over and bought one each.

We were feeling tired by then, and we are getting old. We intended missing out on walking round St Govan's Head, instead cutting straight across. But the mistake we made was not looking at the map, we thought it would be obvious. We followed a tarmac track from the car park, but that took us to the end of St Govan's Head and we didn't realise this until we got there. So we walked back along the other side, round what looked like a tumulus, and were presented with a deep cleft. Oh no! We hadn't been expecting one of those today. It didn't look too bad, but we found a few tricky bits going down. Luckily I had my poles, and Colin's steady hand to help me. Climbing up the other side was steep with no steps, but we managed it okay. We joined the track we should have been on, a track which came out of a different corner of St Govan's car park and which didn't have a cleft to negotiate.

We climbed over another hill and there we exited the ranges through a gate. We were relieved that they were now behind us. We were in Broad Haven South car park.

We soon found a very sandy path leading down to the beach. Part way down was a path leading off through the bushes to the left. A notice said “START” with an arrow. Start what? Colin thought it might be our path leading behind the dunes to the lily ponds, but I thought it went off too high up. So we continued down and found there were no other paths leading off before we hit the beach. For once I should have listened to my better half!

The beach was deep soft sand of a lovely golden colour — a beautiful beach but terrible for walking on. So we went down to the water's edge and walked along there where the wet sand was a tad firmer. On reaching the other side, we walked back up the beach on wet sand next to a pool. We came to a bench which overlooked the beach at the end of the lily ponds.

That ended Walk no.392, we shall pick up Walk no.393 next time at the end of Bosherston Lily Ponds overlooking Broad Haven South beach. It was ten to four, so the Walk had taken us six and a half hours. After resting on the bench for a while, we walked alongside one of the lily ponds back to the car park. Then we drove back to our caravan at Freshwater East.

Walk 391 -- Freshwater West to Merrion

 Ages: Colin was 79 years and 40 days. Rosemary was 76 years and 182 days. 

Weather: Sunny with a light breeze. 

Location: Freshwater West to Merrion. 

Distance: 4 miles. 

Total distance: 3968 miles. 

Terrain: Mostly grassy paths parallel to the roads we thought we were going to have to walk. Also across fields. A little uneven in places. Very gently undulating. 

Tide: Coming in. 

Rivers: None. 

Ferries: None. 

Piers: None. 

Kissing gates: None. 

Pubs: None. 

‘Cadw’ properties: None. 

Ferris wheels: None. 

Diversions: None. 

How we got there and back: We were caravanning at Freshwater East. This morning we drove to Merrion and parked off-road by the fence of Castlemartin Ranges. From there we caught the bus to Freshwater West. 

At the end we came to the gateway leading on to the military ranges. The gate was shut and a red flag was flying. We walked along the road to where our car was parked and drove back to our caravan at Freshwater East. 

 

By today the swelling of my hand is reduced, and the blackness is fading. I can grip things better and it is not so painful. 

Today's Walk was entirely inland thanks to the Army who commandeered this beautiful chunk of the Welsh coast back in 1938 and have steadfastly refused to give it back ever since. They were out there today shooting away with their big guns and letting off smoky bombs. We thought we were going to be walking entirely on roads and neither of us were looking forward to it, but the bus driver on the way pointed out all the footpaths that have been put in parallel to the roads but behind hedges and sometimes across fields. 

We started at the Freshwater West car park. Freshwater West is a popular surfing beach, the waves come in to this shallow beach directly from the Atlantic. This morning there were a few surfers milling about in the car park but none in the water — I think the tide was too far out. When the tide is right, they are there in their hundreds, and surfing schools take place. We walked a few yards on the road in the wrong direction to start our Walk in order to access the first footpath

At first I wished I'd brought my poles because the ground was a bit uneven. I hadn't brought them because they are such a nuisance when walking on roads, and in the end I was glad I had left them behind because it left my injured hand free for the blood to flow and so reduce the swelling. 

When this path came out on to the road there was another gate almost opposite which lead us to a path parallel to the road but behind a hedge. So we were well protected from the traffic which tends to rush down this narrow lane towards the surfing beach. This path was along the border of the ranges so we could hear the gunfire quite close — it sounded as if we were in a war zone! We passed the occasional red flag and notices telling us to keep out.

Approaching a farm our path, which was well signposted, led away from the road and crossed several fields.

Despite the notice on a gate we didn't meet any bulls! We came across some cows at one point but they took very little notice of us. We eventually came to a lane leading into Castlemartin, and along there we came to a deserted children's playground with picnic tables. We went in there so I could have a sit-down because I needed a rest. (Today's Walk was so short we hadn't brought any food, just water.) 

Sufficiently watered and rested, we carried on up to the roundabout in Castlemartin. The road through the ranges, which we had driven along last Monday, was closed with a gate across. There was also a car parked in front of it. In a box next to it sat a man to stop anybody going through (What a job!) 

We took the road signposted “Warren”, and after a few yards there was a gate leading to a parallel path behind the hedge. This led gently uphill for about half a mile. 

At the top of the hill we came to a “Range Viewing Area” where you can see more or less the whole of the territory used by the Army. Several cars were parked there and one man was out with binoculars. But quite honestly there wasn't really anything much to see, it was more the sound of the booming guns that interrupted our peaceful Walk. 

From there our path led across several fields completely skirting the hamlet of Warren. It was actually a short cut. We eventually emerged on to a lane just a few yards north of the crossroads where a road leads off to Stack Rocks. A red flag was flying and a gate across the road was shut. We hope it will be open for the next Walk on Saturday!

That ended Walk no.391, we shall pick up Walk no.392 next time at the gate to the ranges near Merrion. It was ten past twelve, so the Walk had taken us two hours, forty minutes. We walked along the road to where our car was parked and drove back for lunch in our caravan at Freshwater East. 

Today was a bit of a bum Walk — we don't get much out of walking across fields and it certainly wasn't by the coast. But it was not as bad as it might have been, we hardly touched the roads.