For every season, turn, turn, turn: Newport to Pwllgwaelod

We were knackered after the previous day's walking, I think it was the adrenaline as much as the physical exertion so we decided to give us a light day of walking on the last day (we did this bit over a few days of an Easter holiday). We were going to walk from Newport to Pwllgwaelod, just the other side of Dinas Head. This would be the shortest day we'd had in two years. We had walked the outcrop, Dinas Head, some years before so we were even going to leave that part out (lazy I know!). I had walked this section a few times before and knew that it was beautiful and much easier than our previous two days.

The day was going to start in Newport. The town itself is set a little way back from the sea and the path and has lots of small shops, places to eat and drink and stay if you are doing a linear walk. Its an unusual place, a seaside resort that isn't actually on the sea. There is a castle but it isn't open to the public.

It's a charming as well as useful town for the walker and the signs amused my somewhat smutty mind. You can't take her anywhere.

The site has been inhabited since prehistory and there is a burial chamber that stands incongruously next to a modern housing estate. Inland there are lots more burial chambers and iron age forts, it must have been quite a happening place back in the day. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carreg_Coetan_Arthur

Over 5000 years old, there is a modern house just to the right of this picture behind a hedge. It stands within a hedge enclosure with a small gate to get in. Most odd! what is possibly even odd is that it is largely ignored.

But our day was going to begin at Parrog, the port side of the town and closer to the path and the start of our walk. I parked my car at Pwllgwaelod and got into Helen's fancy German vehicle. I have seldom been in a car so full of domestic trivia and rubbish as this one. It needed excavating, in my humble opinion. (Harsh, but fair) I punched the details into my trusty TomTom and we drove off, to get to the car park nearest the walk. We drove towards Newport, took a right and down through a series of twisty side roads that got ever smaller. We took a sharp left turn with a Dead End sign. We were on a single track lane with houses on either side and a drop onto the beach at the end of it. I sensed a certain panic from Helen when she said "Where the fuck is this taking us?"

"Keep calm, Helen," I said, helpfully.

"Calm?" she snarled, "Calm?"

The TomTom said, 'You have reached your destination!' and sounded smug while it did so. We looked at each other and back to the TomTom. And then out of the window. This is what we saw.

The bastard thing was attempting to take us to the car park, which is out of sight and to the right, along the beach. Which was, as it so often is, full of bloody sea water.

'WTF?' said Rhian.

'Bastard bloody thing, it keeps trying to kill me!'

'What do you mean?'

'It once tried to take me through the centre of Paris, it was only Alex spotting the effing Eiffel tower that tipped me off in time!'

'Then why are you still using it?'

'Dunno, maybe because I'm worse?'

'Quite possibly.'

There was a pause. The lane was narrow, not much wider than the car and we had been driving down it for quite a long time. I hate driving in reverse and I couldn't imagine driving all the way back out. Well, not without having a heart attack from stress. To our right was a house with a small courtyard in front of it that gave us a little space, and I thought Helen could successfully execute a turn here, with a bit of manoeuvring. I said so. The look she gave was one of pure disbelief and exasperation.

To be fair to her, she gave it a go. We inched forward. We inched back, then forward again at a slightly different angle. Then back, then forward. The urn with bizzy-lizzies in by these people's front door was in some danger of being crushed against the wall. The sensors screamed but were drowned out by Helen's swearing. I barked instructions and even offered to get out and guide her. She wasn't impressed. I tried to do a 3 point turn but the narrowness of the lane meant it was a 10 point turn and then a 20. No dice. I was sweating like a mad thing and less and less able to drive with every failed attempt.

I could see that Helen's temper was not the best, and the levels of humidity in the car were such that condensation was beginning to fog up the Tom Tom. The language deteriorated. This could go on all day. I didn't say so because it would have been the last thing I ever said. "I give up!" she snapped, "It's impossible!"

We drove a little way further down the lane, where there was a drive that gave us more space. I got the strong feeling that this was a common occurrence as the owners had put up a stern sign, 'No Parking or turning'.

'What do you think?' I asked. I was desperate now.

'The only other option is going into the sea!'

We risked it. The owner came out, unhappy at our infringement on his drive. I felt for him but I was overheating as much as my clutch and it was a choice of 20 seconds then or I would still be there to this day and I don't think he would have liked that either! I wouldn't have fancied his chances in a fight with her if he had dared to say anything. (It would have been 'earrings out' and I would have won.) We found our way back to the road and instead of following the TomTom, which had failed to recalculate given the crazy toing and froing in the lane, we looked ahead and saw the sign for Newport half-hidden by a bush. Hallelujah! ( She was patient. That said, I was a ball of sweat and adrenaline and I don't think that she felt she could annoy me at this point without the possibility of actual bodily harm. )

We finally parked the car and started the walk. Thankfully Parrog is a beautiful place and I calmed down. It was a very pleasant morning and the path was obvious, even to us.

We climbed uphill and the cliff side offered up some stunning views back the the previous two days' walks. Somehow the distance made it look more benign and less terrifying and, as ever, looking back on the places we have walked is far more satisfying than looking at the place still to come. The cliffs were lower than on the previous day and we were much happier looking around. After passing Cat Rock we dropped down into a valley which looked for all the world like something out of the Shire, all twisted oak trees and lush greenery and crossed the Aber Rhigian. The bridge was designed for those of us with a capacious arse and we arrived at the beautiful pebble beach at Cwm Rhigian. It was lovely. Tranquil, and sheltered. A really good place for a brief stop for refreshments, which is what we did. This beach can only be reached by people prepared to walk a little way and as ever, it was deserted apart from us. (There is an arrow hidden on the side of the picture that will let you scroll through some photos)

There is a steep climb out the valley and then you are back, walking along the clifftops, which are dramatic. We dropped into the beach at Fforest. There is a nice sward of grass just a little way back from the beach where we rested (we were taking it easy today ) and then walked past a ruined lime kiln and back up to the final section of cliff walking before we hit the road into Cwm-Yr Eglwys. The road is steep and we had the excitement of cars passing us. Driving up out of the village can be very exciting if you meet another car coming the other way, but the village is beautiful and worth the effort. Cwm-Yr-Eglwys is tiny, no shops but there is a van that sells ice creams and drinks in season. It is a popular spot because of the beautiful bay and ruined church. There is a small caravan site and a boat yard to navigate your way through, if you choose the lower, flatter path rather than heading uphill to Dinas Head.

This is the ruined church, St Brynach's at Cwm-Yr-Eglwys (for those wanting Incidental Welsh it means valley of the church). It was once big enough to have 300 congregants but all that is now left is the ruin left after centuries of storm damage. The most catastrophic one was in 1859, when a storm which came in from the Irish sea and smashed ships as well as damaging property and killing over 100 people. As a result of this storm the Met Office starting giving gale warnings in 1860. So, remember that the next time you listen to the Shipping Forecast. The church and its grounds were further damaged by the storm in 1979 which forced us to walk inland when we first started walking the path as badly prepared teenagers. Out past the ruins, in the distance, you can see the headland that leads down into Newport. A lovely spot for a photograph.

I have visited this spot many times and it is stunning. I made the most of the lifting of the Covid restrictions and visited earlier this year. I retraced our steps and sat eating my lunch, resting my feet and looking at the sea. There were a group of teenagers in the harbour on a range of canoes and boats, playing in the sun. It was wonderful to watch and I had a real sense of liberation after the months of lock down which I had spent on my own. They paddled round and shouted and laughed at each other. I don't know if they were an extended family, or if this was some sort of outdoor training course but they were having fun. After a little while, one of then started to sing, a welsh hymn Calon Lan, and one after another they picked up the tune and sang, as if it was the most natural thing in the world while they paddled around. I sat there stunned. It was the most wonderful, life enhancing moment and it wept for the sheer joy of it all, as I am now, typing this. A precious moment and the words they were singing were strangely apt at a time when most of us were limited in what we could do and were focusing on the things that really mattered to us most.

Nid wy'n gofyn bywyd moethus,

Aur y byd na'i berlau mân:

Gofyn wyf am galon hapus,

Calon onest, calon lân.

Calon lân yn llawn daioni,

Tecach yw na'r lili dlos:

Dim ond calon lân all ganu

Canu'r dydd a chanu'r nos.

I don't ask for a luxurious life,

the world's gold or its fine pearls,

I ask for a happy heart,

an honest heart, a pure heart.

A pure heart full of goodness

Is fairer than the pretty lily,

None but a pure heart can sing,

Sing in the day and sing in the night.

After a rest and looking at the view we took the short route through the 'Neck' of land that stops Dinas Head from being an island. We had walked the head a few years before with teenagers in tow. It is stunning and offers you a choice of routes at one point, one further in land, one closer to the edge and allows you views of Needle Rock which provides nesting for sea birds. To Rhian's disappointment, no puffins and some vertigo inspiring drops. There is a trig point at the highest point which gives you some stunning views in both directions, back to Newport and also on to Fishguard which we still had to walk. The path zig zags downwards as you come down the other side of the headland towards the bay at Pwll Gwaelod.

We made good time through the path, which is tarmacked the whole way and makes this part of the Coastal path accessible for people in wheelchairs or those pushing small children. What it misses out in terms of stunning views it makes up for in wild flowers and butterflies and it is a very pleasant 3/4 mile. Helen expounded on the plantlife and told me all about the lichen - again - while I wondered if there were any rogue crocodiles that would leap out of the reeds and drag her away. (In her fecking dreams.) Eventually the two paths re-join at the bay and there is a wonderful pub https://www.theoldsailors.co.uk/ where we stopped and had a celebratory soft drink and a bowl of cawl with bread and cheese before Rhian went back home and I went back for a few more days in my Happy Place.

It had been an intense weekend and we were quite proud of ourselves, having completed a tough part of the path. Looking ahead towards Fishguard and Strumble Head beyond there was more to come...and it took me back to the year when we were 17 and walked from Fishguard to St David's. The plan was that we should walk south from Pwll Gwaelod down as far as Abereiddi cutting some miles off the summer walk. In a fit of nostalgia we had booked accommodation in the YHA at Pwll Deri where we has stayed, age 17 in our misguided attempt to walk part of the Coastal Path. This time we are older, possibly wiser but with proper boots and better ruck racks. What we didn't know was that the fates had a different plan for us, involving vile weather, mud, a man called Carrot and Rhian's Big End.

STOP PRESS.

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