Leaving Barry railway station I walked through a park with a large area of sand on my left in Watch House Bay exposed by the low tide, so low that the keel of a boat moored to the breakwater opposite was siting out of the water. Cold Knap is a suburb of Barry with more expensive houses. The Coast Path took me around Cold Knap lake which is set among grass lawns crossed by tarmac paths. Swans preened themselves while mallards swam around aimlessly. I deviated from my route, following the brook which feeds the lake with its miniature ornamental weirs, to reach a coffee shop. There was a promenade behind the beach of hard, well rounded pebbles that I briefly joined before climbing up to the area of grass on top of the cliff. On the climb I passed the ruins of a Roman building, just foundations surrounded by modern housing, which made it look like a building that was started and then abandoned. Possibly a public building in Roman times it would have had a good view across the channel.
Lake at Cold Knap
The path followed the top of the cliffs for much of today, dropping into and climbing out of valleys, their sides lined with low trees, bent over by the wind and bare of leaves at this time of year. Stairs helped in places. Porthkerry park was in the first valley, which had an impressive railway viaduct crossing it.
Recent rain had created many puddles, pools of water and plenty of mud on the path. Anticipating the slippery mud I had brought a trekking pole to help maintain my balance. Extensive slide mark's in the mud of the path left by other walkers' boots showed the difficulties they had experienced. In places the path was across open areas of grass but in others where it was constrained between hedges, fences or by large fields of root crops, the accumulated footfall had created something of a quagmire. One of the problems of walking the coast path in Wales's mild but wet winter.
A distinctive rock formation known as the Lias formed the cliffs today. Of lower Jurassic age bands of hard grey limestone, about six inches thick alternate with darker clay rich bands. From the cliff top I looked down on the "pavements" of limestone on the beach, cut by numerous and regular joints. On one such area, long ago when I was a child, my family played a game of cricket, but my grandpa was not terribly good at hitting the ball. A number of quarries had been cut in the cliffs, all now abandoned and returning to nature. Gulls cried overhead and crows cawed from the hedgerows. Waves had been undercutting the cliffs which did not look terribly stable. The path went through a few caravan sites, where permanent trailers sat on the cliff tops with superb views over the Bristol channel. Decorations were up inside many of them and I imagine families would be gathering in these holiday homes for Christmas.
The Lias, alternating bands of hard limestone and softer, shalier rock.
Stony beach, typical of today, with the Lias cliffs and Aberthaw power station in the distance.
The longest section at the level of the stony beach started along the concrete sea wall by Aberthaw power station. This coal fired power station closed in the last year or so, when I walked by here a few years ago there were piles of coal and evidence of activity, now there was none, the railway line which formerly brought the coal now orange with rust. I commiserated at the sadness of its passing with a fellow walker who had worked on the site for 40 years. On the other side of the channel a nuclear power station is being built at Hinckley point, I am not entirely sure that is progress. Proposals for a barrage across the channel which would use the huge tidal range of the sea in this area to generate power seemed to have stalled, the use of such a reliable, sustainable source of power would have avoided issues such as radioactive waste.
After the Aberthaw power station the waymarks indicated that the coast path had changed its route. Previously the route headed inland a little, now it lies directly behind the beach initially following a line of concrete blocks that were part of the defences in the second world war. There were also a few brick block houses sunk into the ground where once soldiers waited nervous or bored for German incursions up the channel.
Eventually the town of Llantwit Major appeared inland above the fields. I followed the coast path down into the Col-huw valley. There is a café by the stony beach, beside the car park, but today it was closed so I turned up the valley. The meandering river had created a classic flat flood plain of wet muddy fields, between steep, wooded, valley sides. Walking up the valley I reached the ancient town of Llantwit Major. Its many pubs were closed due to Covid-19 restrictions, so after picking up a coffee and baguette I repaired to the railway station for my trip back home.
Col-huw beach
