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.

Walk 390 -- West Angle Bay to Freshwater West

Ages: Colin was 79 years and 38 days. Rosemary was 76 years and 180 days. 

Weather: Sunny with a light breeze. Turning hot. 

Location: West Angle Bay to Freshwater West. 

Distance: 6 miles. 

Total distance: 3964 miles. 

Terrain: Mostly grassy cliff paths. Very undulating — up and down almost vertical 'paths' with few steps cut in. It was dangerous! A flat sandy beach at the end. 

Tide: Going out. 

Rivers: None. 

Ferries: None. 

Piers: None. 

Kissing gates: No.957. 

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 Freshwater West where we parked. We caught the bus to West Angle Bay. 

At the end we came to Freshwater West car park. We bought delicious crab rolls from the mobile cafe there and ate them ravenously. Then we drove back to our caravan at Freshwater East. 

 

A notice at the top of the beach at West Angle Bay told us that coal used to be brought in from South Pembrokeshire and used in a limekiln alongside the small harbour. Locally made bricks were exported from here. There were a string of forts around here to guard the entrance to the estuary, the oldest of which dates from the 16^th century. 

We left West Angle Bay car park on a good path along the edge of a grassy field. We noticed that a group of girls ahead of us were taking short cuts across the field where the main path led. But we stuck to the field edges on the official path and the one nearest the sea. We were rewarded with magnificent views across to St Ishmael's and St Ann's Head. 

Colin was having trouble with one of his boots. We both bought new and expensive walking boots a few weeks ago. Mine have been 'walked-in' and are super-comfy. Colin's are too except that they rub on one ankle bone making it sore. I said that with use the leather would become more supple and it would cease to rub, but that didn't solve the immediate problem. Several times we had to stop while he adjusted a foam pad he had inserted. Later it ceased to rub as I had predicted, and he was comfortable. 

We came to the westernmost point of our Walk and turned south. There was the scant remains of an old fort at the end, and some horses with very long manes were grazing. 

Further on we came to a Second World War gun emplacement. Obviously the entrance to Milford Haven Harbour had to be very well defended in the past. 

We were about a mile into the Walk when I remarked to Colin that the notice on West Angle Bay beach had described this walk as “challenging”. But we hadn't found it to be challenging at all, in fact we were enjoying it very much. I should have kept my big mouth shut! For next thing we came to a very deep cleft and the paths down and up were nigh on vertical. No steps had been cut in, yet it was as steep as a ladder! But we negotiated it without mishap — I used my poles and took it very slowly at my own pace. 

We passed Sheep Island where there are a lot of very interesting rocks pushed up horizontally and vertically. A geologist's paradise! 

We met a lot of walkers on the way going in both directions — everybody going in our direction was faster than us, but they were also much younger. A couple of men we met stopped for a chat. They were looking at a small flock of birds circling round and wondering if they were choughs. But they were too far away to identify. Later on they flew nearer and Colin said they had orange beaks, not red. I suggested they were youngsters, but then I know very little about birds. 

These two gentlemen expressed concern about us 'oldies' walking on to Freshwater West. Did we know that the going was quite tough? We thanked them for their concern and assured them we had encountered worse in Scotland. What we hadn't taken into account was the fact that walking in Scotland had been quite a few years back — twelve years since we did that epic Walk to Cape Wrath! We were much older now. We walked on full of confidence, blissfully unaware of what lay before us. 

We turned a corner at the remains of an old lookout post, and very soon came across another deep cleft. This one was worse than the first with almost vertical sides and no steps! For the much advertised Wales Coastal Path we thought this was bad. These clefts consumed us for the rest of the Walk — we lost count of how many there were (it turned out there were seven!) and each seemed to be steeper than the last. We were no longer enjoying our Walk.

We weren't the only ones having difficulties. One lady we met told us she had climbed out of one of the clefts on her hands and knees because she didn't feel safe!. Colin said that it was more like rock scrambling — except that the terrain was sandy with loose stones, hence quite unstable. 

We were coping okay until the penultimate cleft. On my way down this one I slipped and fell. Fortunately we had moved off the 'path' into long grass beside it because there we felt we could get a better grip, but I didn't and fell headlong. I rolled a bit and wrenched my right thumb. I yelled into the grass which was in my face, “I'm all right except for my thumb!” It must have looked drastic from Colin's point of view. I think I must have bent my thumb right backwards and it hurt like hell. I wasn't sure if I had broken it. But apart from that I was completely unhurt because of the soft grass. 

There was nothing to be done but carry on, there was no other way out. I couldn't use my thumb for anything, but I found that by putting the palm of my hand on top of my walking pole I could actually use it — just about. My poles were essential for getting up and down those slopes. 

We could see Freshwater West beach in the distance, it looked so near yet so far. It got very hot and we were both sweating like pigs! (We don't do hot! The thought of spending a holiday sunbathing on a Mediterranean beach is our idea of hell!) At last there were no more clefts but a more gentle path down to the dunes. There we had a choice — either cross the dunes to the road or go straight down to the beach. We chose the beach, of course! It was firm sand and it was flat! 

A mile of firm flat sand next to the rolling surf — what could be better? But we were both too tired, too hot, and I was in too much pain to enjoy it as we should. It was with relief that we reached the car park at the further end of the beach. 

 

That ended Walk no.390, we shall pick up Walk no.391 next time at Freshwater West car park. It was ten to three, so the Walk had taken us five and a quarter hours. We bought delicious crab rolls from the mobile cafe there and ate them ravenously. Then we drove back to our caravan at Freshwater East. 

By the next day half my right hand had swelled and turned black. But I still think the thumb was only sprained, not broken. It's amazing the simple things I can't do. It would have helped if I was left-handed, but I'm not. 

I began questioning whether we are too old to continue with this Trek. Fit as we are, we can't get away from the fact that Colin will be 80 in less a year and I will be 77 before the year is out. We have both slowed up considerably. But we can't give it up now! Perhaps I'll feel better when my thumb has healed.

Walk 389 -- Angle to West Angle Bay

Ages: Colin was 79 years and 37 days. Rosemary was 76 years and 179 days. 

Weather: Sunny with a light breeze. Perfect! 

Location: Angle to West Angle Bay. 

Distance: 3 miles. 

Total distance: 3958 miles. 

Terrain: Stony track at first. Mostly grassy paths, many sheltered by hedges or trees. Slightly undulating. 

Tide: 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: Yesterday we towed our caravan from home to Freshwater East. This afternoon we drove to West Angle Bay and parked. We then walked through the village to the church where we had finished our last Walk two years ago. 

At the end we came to our car parked at West Angle Bay. We drove back to our caravan at Freshwater East. 

 

Just before the church in Angle we took a stony track down to the marshlands at the western end of Angle Bay. Oh! It was so nice to be back continuing our Round-Britain-Walk! We both had a deep feeling of satisfaction. I put the camera on a wall and we took a delayed shutter shot of us both. 

We followed the stony track almost all the way to the end of Angle Bay until we turned west along the Pembroke River. The stones were not very comfortable to walk on in some places. We passed a wooden signpost pointing out where the footpaths are. One arm had a horse symbol on it pointing towards the marsh. I looked over to the marsh and there was a 'sort-of' path leading over the end of the bay, but I'm not sure I would have ridden a horse over it. 

We had a 'fantastic' view (I don't think!) of Milford Haven oil terminal from the easternmost end of today's Walk before we turned west to walk along the southern bank of the Pembroke River.

The path skirted a field first, then it went through a gate and was sheltered by high hedges. Further on it was sheltered by trees with dappled sunlight shining through — it was delightful! We came to a place called Chapel Bay, but we saw no signs of a chapel there. 

We were looking towards the other side of the river — it was four years ago when we walked there!

Such a lot of frustrations over that four years. Losing our car, our one and only means of transport, when Colin tried to drive it through a ford. We had to buy another car in a hurry because our village no longer has a bus service so we are 'trapped' if we haven't got a car. We could only afford to buy an old Ford Fiesta which has served us well but is too small to tow a caravan. Being hassled for a year over the last remnants of our mortgage despite the fact we had already paid back from our pensions well in excess of the £90,000 originally borrowed over a mere seven years and had never missed a monthly payment. Being caught up in the drone fiasco at Gatwick Airport and spending a miserable Christmas at home by ourselves instead of the fabulous Christmas we had been promised in Cyprus. Coming to terms with the sudden and unexpected death of our son-in-law who had a heart attack and died within a minute. (He was only 48) Our caravan being useless for touring because bits kept falling off it. (In the end we gave it away to someone who was willing to tow it away for free.) Then there was Covid 19 and a dream holiday in New Zealand was cancelled at the very last minute. (I still have the tickets!) The frustrations of Lockdowns one, two and three...... 

BUT: 

We are both healthy (if a lot older!), double-jabbed and raring to go! We spent the NZ money on a nearly-new caravan and we now run two cars. The mortgage is paid off so we don't have to penny-pinch anymore. Our daughter is coming to terms with a different way of life without her beloved husband. And we are back on the Grand Coastal Trek! No more gripes — look forward, and enjoy each day as it comes. 

We took a picture of the old fort in the Pembroke River which Colin had taken a picture of from the other side four years ago. Further on we passed a fort which was closed. We could see the guns and thought they looked Napoleonic in age. We subsequently found out the place was Victorian. 

We reached the westernmost point of today's Walk with views over to St Ann's Head. There was a fort there and some interesting rock formations.

We came to the one and only seat on the Walk, so we sat on it to admire the view.

I'm afraid I got out my mobile phone — (yes, I've become one of those!) The reason being (don't make excuses!) that I can't get a signal at the caravan site and I wanted to check a few things on the internet. 

I was soon finished, so we walked down the easy path and track into West Angle Bay where our car was parked.

That ended Walk no.389, we shall pick up Walk no.390 next time at West Angle Bay. It was twenty past five, so the Walk had taken us two hours. We drove back to our caravan at Freshwater East.