Not wishing to miss my train home today from Saundersfoot I left St Clears early, in grey drizzle a little after 7 am, clutching a coffee and cookie from the Starbucks by my hotel. Much of today's route was beside two lane, moderately busy roads, but it had been made safer by running the Coast Path through fields, on just the other side of the hedge to the road, maybe not too scenic but it avoided the need to dodge fast cars and lorries. More substantial deviations of the Coast Path from the road took me through muddy fields, water collecting in the hoof prints left by sheep and cattle, and occasional woods. Such paths led me down through poor pasture and clumps of reeds closer to the river, which seemed to be flooding flat grassland beyond its banks.
These paths contrasted with the well maintained trail into the village of Laugharne which ran through woodland, contouring steeply sloping hillside beside the River Taf. This morning's high tide had transformed the river; the sandbanks and meandering channels I saw yesterday had metamorphosed into a large, unbroken expanse of water. Trees, moss and ferns clothed my surroundings in green. Ruins of stone buildings beside the path were so covered with moss and verdant vegetation that I barely noticed them as I walked by.
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| Path into Laugharne |
Laugharne (pronounced "Larn" with a long "a") is famous as a place where the poet Dylan Thomas lived. My path went by the shed he wrote in, overlooking the river and sea. Versus from his "Birthday Poem" are printed on noticeboards spread along the trail into and out of the village. When I last hiked this section I stayed the night in Laugharne, visiting the grave of Dylan and his wife, answering questions for a lady conducting a survey on the Wales Coast Path and enjoying an afternoon of folk songs with a few beers at Brown's Hotel. Had it not been closed I would have visited the Norman Castle which stands dark with a sense of foreboding at the edge of the village, overlooking the channels and salt marsh of the estuary with its bobbing boats.
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| View from path out of Laugharne |
Climbing out of Laugharne I wondered if the trees I was passing through were part of "Milkwood" from Dylan Thomas' famous radio play, as the place he called "Llaregubb" (try reading it backwards) may have been partly based on Laugharne. After curving over the top of the old sea cliffs, now tree covered, the path continues along their base for many kilometres. The sea has long since receded into the grey distance, beyond the green, channelled plain populated by sheep and beyond, extensive dunes invisible to me in the mist. Much of this is used by the military as a firing range and test facility, so the Coast Path is forced inland, and closely follows the road as it crosses adjacent fields to reach the village of Pendine, where there is access to the beach. On this long area of sand several land speed records were achieved in the 1920's, most notably by Sir Malcolm Campbell in Bluebird, but the vehicle in the Museum of Speed at Pendine is Babs, driven and crashed by J. G. Parry-Thomas, who died in his last, fatal attempt at the record. When I was a child you could take your own car onto the beach, and one exciting day, as we were off the public highway, my father let me drive our old grey Austin, sitting on his knee. My early attempt at the wheel failed when I stalled the car while attempting to change into second gear, my further manipulating the gear stick while I attempted clutch control. On another visit our neighbours' car became stuck in wet sand, as the sea was some way out they had driven down closer to it which proved unwise. We tried to tow him out with our car which, inevitably, also became stuck. Much effort was needed to move both cars before they were engulfed by the rising tide. I had visions of them floating out to sea.
After two and half days of walking through farmland, well away from the sea as the trail worked its way around the various estuaries, the section from Pendine to Saundersfoot was a classic coastal stretch. Open sea was to my left as I walked up and down paths through yellow gorse on the steeply sloping coastline cut by valleys. Little mercy was given to the tired walker with steep climbs, occasionally aided by rough steps. Wet mud on downward sections inevitably resulted in me ignominiously sliding onto my backside. No damage except for heavily mudded clothing and my transition to a grumpy old man. By a little stream I attempted to wash off the worst of the mud, but for the rest of the day I looked pretty disreputable.
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| Start (or finish) of Pembrokeshire Coast Path National Trail. |
At Amroth a milestone! I left Carmarthenshire and entered the county of Pembrokeshire, the Pembrokeshire Coast Path began, marked by white acorns, indicating it was a National Trail, as well as part of the Wales Coast Path (also a National Trail, but a Welsh one rather than a British one)! For today there was still one more hill to climb over which took me down into Wiseman's Bridge. From there the trail follows the bed of an old railway line to Saundersfoot, including a few tunnels, exciting for children. One was long enough for the darkness to hide the people walking towards me. Managing to avoid any collisions, I reached the popular, seaside town of Saundersfoot with its beach and cafés and holiday apartments. It was then a further two kilometres to reach its railway station.
The train home passed many of the places I had walked through, running alongside the waters of the Towey and Lougher. High tide brought the water up to the edge of the line, engulfing the beach I had sat beside at Ferryside. The small channels between acres of sand had been transformed into a great lake beside my swiftly moving carriage.
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| Saundersfoot |
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