Or why Rhian thought this was a good idea

As she says, Helen and I walked from Fishguard to St David’s when we were in the Sixth Form. I was motivated by a long held desire to escape, and to travel, and to be tough and hardy. I envisaged myself gazing up at the stars on a wild headland. Photographing wondrous sights. Gazing soulfully into the distance. A romantic idyll, in the Wordsworthian sense of the phrase. What I got was torrential rain and high winds, a cumbersome rucksack, wet feet in totally unsuitable shoes, a companion whose sniffing drove me slightly insane and some stumbling around in the dark trying to find the outside toilet in the middle of the night. I must add, however, that it remains one of the best experiences of my young life, pre-university and all of that. We laughed, we plodded on womanfully, we met new people and saw new things. Walking, I realised, really does ground you in reality while also allowing you freedom of thought and mind.

So then, as Helen says, life really began for us. I left home, did university, went back home for a while. Left again for London to train as a teacher, set up home with Nick and Tiger the tabby cat. Holidays were abroad or back down to Wales. I had backpacked around Europe while at university with my good friend Hilary, and that had given me more of the excitement and exhaustion and experiences that I had gained on our walk. I have always loved the feeling of going somewhere. It doesn’t matter where. I love the packing and the setting off; I love the journey – doesn’t matter where to.

Picture of Rhian taken on our first walking holiday. This is right on the coastal path not far from the youth hostel we were staying at, Pwll Deri.

I think this was the only day it didnt piss with rain.

Please note the total lack of walking boots, we really were an advert for 'How not to do a long distance walk'.

Nick and I got married, worked, had children. Our lives were busy and rewarding. We had some good luck and some bad. We lost my dad, from whom I think I inherited a certain wanderlust and who was a bit of a dreamer – the same as me. It really stopped me in my tracks. We made the decision eventually to relocate back to Wales though Nick continued to work in London. It was a relentless time for me of full-time teaching, bringing up the kids, supporting my mother as she got older. The highlights of these years always involved journeys and little adventures, frequently with my sister-in-law Sian and her husband (Nick’s brother) and their three kids, whose bond with our two remains very strong. The trials and tribulations of camping in Newgale, the long drives through France, so many happy memories.

It was when I hit 50, my mother passed away and Sam went to university that I started to feel that I had more time for myself and to think about what I wanted. Alys left as well, and we became “empty-nesters”. Very confusing. So when Helen took up walking, and then suggested the idea of walking the Coastal Path I thought it was worth a go…