A long day (33 kilometres) of walking on flat ground: along the embankment of the Severn estuary for the first half of the day and then across fields, around a wetland and into an industrial part of Newport.
Arriving at Severn Tunnel Junction Railway station, I headed down country lanes back to the edge of the Severn estuary, where the Wales Coast path follows the embankment. An essential defence preventing flooding of the coastal plain, the path follows it for some 10 kilometres. This grass covered bank fronted by large stones gave a good viewpoint over the grass covered foreshore, dotted with grey tree trunks washed down the river and stranded by some flood tide. Sheep grazed in places, a few people walked their dogs, but much of the view over the sea was devoid of objects, an artist could have painted it with a few, broad horizontal stripes: greens for the foreshore, silver for the water, bluey grey for the hills on the distant far side of the estuary and greyish white for the sky. A crumbling pillbox (or more correctly a less well protected "section post") from the Second World War added to the abandoned feel of the landscape. Two lines of rotting wood staves, extended towards the river at one point, were the remains of an old salmon netting system according to my guidebook. Behind me in the grey distance the New Severn Bridge graced the skyline, part of a more modern world.
The green foreshore was replaced by mud, cut by channels made by the falling tide which was exposing extensive sand banks, and the embankment was fronted by a concrete wall as well as boulders for a stronger defence against the incursion of water. In the church of St Mary Magdalene in the village of Goldcliff, the guidebook refers to an inscription marking the level of a massive, deadly flood of 1607, unfortunately the church was locked when I visited. Goldcliff did however reward me with the Seawall Tearoom where I enjoyed a mug of tea and a slice of divine Victoria Sponge cake that melted in my mouth.
From Goldcliff the path follows lanes and crosses fields. Hawthorn trees along field boundaries had a red haze from the many berries. A number of wetlands have been developed here, and the Wales Coast Path took me around the main one, the Newport Wetlands. Signs stated it was a wonderful place for birds and wildfowl, but on this trip and my previous visits I have seen very few. My legs felt that the trail took an excessively long route around the edge of the wetlands, but it meant I saw the squat, white lighthouse and a few white poplars at the far end, flashing the white undersides of their leaves at me in the breeze. Most of the wetlands seemed to be reeds, beyond them an old coal fired power station and its newer gas fired replacement rose up on the skyline. The Newport Wetlands were developed as compensation for the loss of habitat when the barrage was build across Cardiff Bay, replacing industrial tidal areas with a tide free lake. There is a visitor centre where I was hoping for a sandwich and the use of their toilets, but it was closed due to the Coronavirus. Loss of toilets, and its consequent effect on bladder, bowels and public urination, has been one of the hardships of the pandemic, and authorities seem to be slow to reopen them. So I continued over fields to the Waterloo Inn which the trail passes behind, where in addition to the use of their facilities I indulged in a cream tea overlooking the village church.
The day had started warm and at times sunny, but cumulonimbus clouds had been forming and the genial host of the Inn warned my of a coming storm. As I walked through fields, its hay been harvested in large, black plastic rolls, there were ominous rolls of thunder grumbling across the sky. Fortunately, only a few drops of rain fell as I reached the edge of Newport, which marked a change from a rural to an industrial landscape. One of the industrial sites had an old dock beside what looked like an empty, covered boat building or repair yard. As I continued up the side of the River Usk, with its occasional fisherman, Newport's Transporter bridge came into view. A relic of the time when the Welsh coal and steel industry was at its height, cars and people are transported across the river in a gondola suspended from a gantry high in the air. Unfortunately closed on the day I was visiting, I trudged around a longer route to cross the river on a modern, but elegant white road bridge. Here I left the Wales Coast path and headed for Newport Train Station, walking beside the river, where old docks and wharves have been replaced by a riverside path, with young trees and stylish housing, part of the Usk Valley Way.
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