Songline On Sea

After a very confortable night in what must be the best bunkhouse in the country, a long lie-in and a farmhouse breakfast I set off back 10 miles to Gowerton to meet Mark off the 2.17pm train from Swansea. It took 2 short lifts and a bus to make it in plenty of time. I decided on a quick coffee which made me 2 minutes late for the train. Mark was fully equipped with Kaya's neat rucksack and looked browner than me from just being in his Sussex garden! We did shopping for tomorrow and then walked and talked our way onto the salt marshes of the northern Gower Penninsula. Looking back towards Llanelli was infinitely nicer than being there. The flatness of the salt marshes, the light and the vastness of the sky reminded me of the Solway Firth and Essex. Mark is a keen observer of birdsong and recognised many birds from their warbles. This impressed me as did his knowledge of things in the water and plants. And thus today's walk was enhanced as for the first time this year I had company. We had an excellent supper in the same pub as I had been in last night. There was a beautiful sunset and it was almost dark by the time we got back to the bunkhouse. The weather improved as the day went on but clearly there had been a lot of rain last night. Tomorrow we do the beaches at the western end of the Gower.

To get round the 'starfish' of estuaries and end up where I have added up to a very eventful day. The hostel last night accomodated 50 but there was just me and a Dutch lady cyclist who didn't share her porridge with me to augment my cup of tea. I got the bus up to Carmarthen, had breakfast and looked around. There is only a bit of castle left and the Millennium Bridge over the River Tywi was being repaired and treated for corrosion. There is a wonderful trainride that goes right along the east bank of the river which I took to Kidwelly. Before the next train I had 1 1/2 hours to get a sandwich, have a coffee and look at the church and castle. The highlight was the castle. I only had 10 minutes to look inside so bought a guidebook and the kind lady let me in for free provided I didn't have a film crew in tow. Brolly really does get me places. Tomorrow I shall be joined by Mark Haughton which I think is also the name of Coast's historian. I only saw part of Llanelli from the railway station to the nearest bit of coast which was the area of massive new housing development. The stretch then to the bridge over the River Loughor passes through a large country park with a golfcourse and Wildfoul and Wetland Centre. It used to be all industrial during the 19th century but then the river silted up and the need for their goods dried up. It has been the case that these old industrial towns all around the country have to make their past interesting to visit for tourists. The only steel plat still operating was transfered from British Steel to an Indian firm who make steel panels for the motor industry. I took a wrong turn and found myself on the very busy A484 to Swansea whose city boundary I had just crossed. I won't actually be in Swansea till next Monday because of the Gower Penninsula. I had to scramble down a steep embankment of brambles and nettles to get back to my little B road to Gowerton. I got to the bottom and it started pouring with rain but at least I was under a bridge. Along came angel number 1, Sandy who drove me first to Gowerton, no accomodation, then to Pen-Clawdd, no again, then to Llanrhidian where I got out at a hotel. Sandy is a mystic clairvoyant who until recently worked for Scotland Yard locating bodies. In the brief 35 minutes I had with her I heard lots of other amazing things but they are not for blogging. The hotel would only come down to £40.00 so I left and considered what to do. I was actually by then only 3 1/2 miles from the hostel where I'm walking to tomorrow so I rang. Alison, the farmer's wife and the Bunkhouse hostess said I could stay and she would pick me up from the pub in Oldwalls after I had eated. Had a great meal. Alison, angel number 2, picked me up, showed me round the wonderful Bunkhouse which I have all to myself, then left to return with a basket of eggs, ham, milk, tea, coffee and cornflakes. It is still raining and I'm exhausted. I have probably covered 50 miles today (16 as the crow flies) of which I walked 11 today and 10 tomorrow.

Having seen all those starfish yesterday now the map looks like one with every leg an estuary. There used to be ferry crossings when the pilgrims were about but now the only way is to go round them. The tide was going out which made Pendine Sands look inviting but the MOD have this whole area and they were firing today. I visited the Museum of Speed which only exhibited motorbikes but there was a film where clearly the local hero is Parry Thomas - the guy who died in 'Babs' and was Welsh. The sands have been used for racing since way back and they could make much more of it rather than filling the place with caravans. Laugharne - pronounced 'Larne' is where Dylan Thomas chose to live in a boathouse by the side of the River Taf and next to one of the many Norman castles around here. I didn't have time to look round as the 2 hourly bus was due which would take me to St. Clers. I just had time for a coffee, buy a sandwich and a Cadbury's cream egg which I stuffed in my trouser pocket. Bad move - I later sat on it and it made the mess that only Cadbury's cream eggs are capable. It was a long walk down to Llansteffan where there was another castle defending the entrance to the River Tywi. I'm staying in a hostel just out of town. It has room for 50 people but there is only me and a Dutch lady riding a bicycle. The light, the colours, the sand, the water is all remarkable and would reward any visitor. Today's walking was all on road. After over 200 miles of coastal paths it was a pleasant change and I did enjoy being able to clock up the miles more quickly. I walk at about 3 1/2 mph and reckon that the sticks give that extra half a mile per hour. It's nice to be able to get into a rhythm and enjoy the movement. I generally walk for 1 1/2 hours and take a water break and drop the sack but I can happily do 5 miles without stopping if I'm in the mood.

I saw so much sand today starting with Tenby which is famous for its sands all the way to Pendine whose beach is famous for its length and breadth. I looked around Tenby which is delightful with brightly coloured houses. The coast path was exhausting to Monkstone Point at which is where I decided to take the steep path down to the beach as the tide was far enough out to get round to Saundersfoot lowtide being 2pm. In fact I was able to walk on the beach for over 4 miles to Amroth which has the distinction of being the start or finish of the 185 mile Pembroeke Coast Path. A local mussel collector thought I wouldn't make it when I asked his advice but he was wrong. He was also wrong about me being Nicholas Crane, though I have to say with Brolly sticking out of Rucksack it is an easy mistake. There were lots of starfish on the beach to Amroth. At the pub it was 4.30 and they didn't think I'd make Pendine before dark which was also wrong. I was tired on arrival and pleased that the Beach Hotel had a room. Pendine is well known for being the beach where in the 20's it was used to establish the ever increasing land speed record. The cars looked decidedly dodgy and one called ' Babs' in 1927 crashed and killed the driver. I guess the driver had a regular funeral but so did the car which was buried in the sand. 42 years later it was resurrected and is now in the museum which I hope to visit tomorrow. The new moon is up. Its to first time I've seen it this year.

I remember this feeling. The feeling of carrying a 12 kilo pack on an up and down path for more than 15 miles. I have been rather kind to myself intentionally, at the start to this trip, but today I kicked in and put in some real mileage. Actually I have decided 15 miles of hard walking is a couple of miles further than I want to do from now on but I know I have set myself some tough walks on the Southwest Coast Path. The walk was great, though, through Freshwater East and then a strangely named Swanlake Bay. Coming from the west the head land did look like a swan's head and the beach like a lake but the name was Nordic so long before Tchaikovski. I decided to pay the £2.50 senior citizen's entry fee to Manorbier Castle. It was a revelation - a real medieval knight's castle, yet, warm, compact and romantic in a fantastic setting. The church also, like Pembroeke and its Abbey, was dominant and impressive with the most out of line chancel I have ever seen. Chancels often lean to the right apparently mimicking the leaning head of Christ on the cross. I might have stayed the night at the nearby youth hostel but it was booked by a group of girls. I think I may have seen them on the beach at Lydstep - they all had dark hair and wore glasses. The bay was completely full of permanent mobile homes with a magnificent view of Cauldy Island where there is still a Cistercian monastry. I was toiling over the last stretch which was across a glof course into Tenby. At the very first B&B, Marion let me in and ushered me into room 1 on the ground floor because of my exhausted state. I went into the fortified town but only to get fish and chips and mushy peas which I ate in front of the TV primarily to watch this week's episode of Damages. I was tempted to camp tonight but the weather has turned bad so I'm glad I didn't. No one else is camping yet, either.

It was a sort of half day off today so I had a lie in whilst the wind and rain beat upon te window. I had lunch instead of breakfast and caught the bus to Stack Rocks. There is the most magnificent natural arch called The Green Gate of Wales. Fortunately the viewing platform which was right on the edge had railings to cling onto. It was the first time I had felt the full force of a southerly gale which was strong enough to push me around though thankfully the rain mostly kept bypassing where I was walking. For the next 4 miles there were great chasms, causways, cauldrons and blow holes. One mighty fissure is called The Huntsman's Leap. The story relate that a huntsman's horse jumped across it successfully but when the rider looked back at what he had jumped over he died of shock. I heard a very similar story up the east coast somewhere! I had a leisurely evening but stayed up late with Mallika, the manageress as she transfered my 227 photos taken so far to disk which I can now send home. I met Violet today who runs the shop next door. She also runs the tea shop in which she also lives. She was also born there. Her mother started selling teas in 1922 which was hard work since water didn't get here till 1946 and electricity 10 years later. Prince William bought a can of something here in 1998 when he was on a field trip down here with a group from Eton. I took her photo. A long walk tomorrow to Tenby.

I had to walk several miles before getting a lift back to Angle where I finished yesterday. The walk then to Freshwater West was relatively easy and I had plenty of time and the weather was good so I could take in the delights slowly. It was hazy and occasionally muggy which invited the nasty brigade to emerge and hang around my head and be annoying. I have been enjoying the yellow gorse bushes in bloom all trip but learned today that the farmers hated and are continuously at war to stop it spreading mostly by burning. The wild horses keep it at bay and hoof the ground for food which encourages new things to happen. This coast path has been opened since 1970 and is well maintained. The Pembroeke Path is over 180 miles long. The latest improvement has been to reduce the number of stiles from 550 to 150 which helps lots of people including me. Freshwater West is one of the best surfing beaches in the country and hosts the National Championships next weekend. There are massive sand dunes. In amongst them by the beach is a strange looking house which 15 people were working on and is to be a set for the next Harry Potter movie. At the far end of the long beach was a large field being prepared for the next Robin Hood movie and where over 600 extras on horseback will be shooting a scene. The surfers are not happy at the invasion and had been promised that it won't interfere with them though the roads will be occasionally closed! The road beyond Castle Martin is also often closed when the army is shooting which all makes the western end of this penninsula tricky. From Freshwater West to Stack Rocks is one stretch of coast nobody can walk. This is the Salisbury Plain of Wales. I got a lift back from Scotty who I had to watch changing by his car and packing his surfboard away. He came from Edinburgh and was going home to have haggis for his tea. It was curry night at the excellent St. Govan's Inn. You pay your £7.95 and eat as much of the 6 different curries as you can. I was seated on my own next to 4 year 11 girls from Pembroeke High School. One of them was pregnant by a boy in her class and apparently it is not unusual for girls as young as 12 to get pregnant. Has Henry VII mother set a trend around these parts? (see yesterday's blog). This is probably going to be the only time I can have a base camp like this for 5 nights. The only other place it may be possible is the Gower Penninsula which is next Thursday already. I look forward to Mark Haughton joining me for that.

I got on a bus only just as it went passed what I thought was 10 minutes early. But no, this was Thursday time! Pembroke is very historic and I discovered a part of it by visiting the High Street and impressive castle. As a settlement the place where the castle now stands was inhabited during the Stone Age in an underground cavern which is now beneath the Norman living quarters. Most famously it is the birthplace of Henry VII whose mother was only aged 14 at the time. Adjacent to it is a former Benedictine monastry where the impressive Priory Church demonstrates its former power shared with the aristocracy. I chose to follow the coast path to Angle which goes behind a power station and around the Chevron oil refinery. The woods are full of bluebells. Not many people take this route so although it was thankfully well signposted the path was often non-existent. It was odd walking around so much intense activity, mighty tankers being sucked dry, the army firing away, and me singing occasionally along with the birds. Some villages are no more. One called Pwllcrochan was an important pilgrim crossing so it had a nice church. I went in to it, of course to find a whole load of fit looking people dressed in the same way like the were the crew of the Starship Enterprise. The church is now a meeting place for Chevron employees. Malcolm White who was running the show gave me a coffee and explained how they and the Prices Trust had saved the lovely building which had no further use as a church since the village had gone. He must have alerted security because I kept being passed and scrutinised as I walked round the perimeter fence of the refinery by men in large four-wheel drives. Muddy Angle Bay was fast being covered by the incoming tide which is when the wading birds get active. There were lots of curlews. Yesterday I saw house martins. Angle is lovely and I was in time for the bus with its grumpy driver with all of 5 minutes to spare. I must be getting fitter as the 12 mile walk felt pretty easy.

Bosherston is near the south coast of this peninsula and there is nothing to do but walk. A day off in town is what I usually aim for but I chose a quiet village with a qite delightful pub which does B&B. I walked down to Broad Haven beach then along to Barafundle beach and then to Stackpole quay. Brolly was very happy as it was just her and me. Both beaches are very special in fact Barafundle has just won an award as the best beach in the UK. Inscribed in the sand was the following 'U3A Chertsey 22/04/09'. I wonder if my U3A group would do such a thing? Having visited more beaches than most I would rate it perhaps in the top 10. Some of the best ones that I've seen are in very remote locations and don't have a road down with a car park. The Stackpole Estate used to belong to the Earls of Cawdor but is now National Trust. It is famous for its lily ponds. They are a series of lakes created by building dams and flooding the estuary. They are best visited in June when the lilies are in flower but my visit coincided at least with the sun reappearing after a couple of days off so it looked great anyway. The Stackpole Centre is for outdoor activities. I was walking up a steep path when a fit looking woman warned me of cyclists coming down. The tenth one was a girl of 8 who with a face of thunder said she wasn't allowed to peddle. If she had she would probably have ended in the lake at the bottom! I had a message on my mobile phone today from Penny - it read 'Hello Tom, OK if we bring 2 hives up this evening? One empty and one with bees'. I asked for further details since I was hoping for a quiet evening to find that it was from a friend in Forest Row who had pressed the wrong Tom. It did make me wonder if it was a gag and several notorious people crossed my mind - some of them may be reading this blog. The angel of the day was Dawn. I had met her at Marloes Youth Hostel putting her bike together and humping a bass guitar around. I was having a cup of tea outside the B&B writing some notes for this blog when I was hailed by name from a passing car. This seemed unlikely in such a remote spot but there was Dawn. She was in a rush to pick up her partner from the train but having spotted me she would not pass without giving me a piece of her homemade cinnamon cake which she duely cut, wrapped in a napkin and then sped off muttering something about Mary Magdalen. I'm eating it now and its delicious - thanks Dawn. My last walk was a mere 3 miles down to St. Govans Chapel which is a most extraordinary 12th century construction built between 2 rocks right on the beach. You have to walk through it to get to the beach. Govans was a friend of St. David, of course! But before living here he was probably the abbot of a monastry in Ireland. If he did end up a hermit living in that spot he must have been quite mad. I think most of these stories are made up to provide places for pilgrims to visit on their journeys, in this case to St. David's. The rifle range was busy all day in fact until 10.30 tonight with a rare night exercise. I've arranged my schedule so I can walk one stretch on Saturday when they are not firing.

In the end it was my fault, it seemed. The bus did arrive at Tesco 5 minutes late. It was apparently stuck for 5 minutes behind 2 other buses and must have gone passed without my noticing. Since the bus is designed for walkers and I am pretty clearly a walker, you would have thought the driver would notice me and make the bus obvious and I was standing looking for it in the correct place. Never mind, the more important aspect to today was that it was the first day carrying rucksack. Since the path was relatively flat with some road walking I went with the old team who have managed over 3,000 miles of me, rucksack and Brolly. Remarkably I flowed along with no knee problem. Is my body now designed to function best with 12 kilos on my back? I have been using Shereen Khan's lovely foot cream and last night massaged arnica oil vigerously into my knees but I've tried so many things that it is hard to say what has made today so easy. The result was that I got to Pembroke Dock 40 minutes early. Many people who walk the Pembroke Coast Path miss out the walk from Milford Haven which is a shame. It takes you passed yet more brand new liquid gas pipelines. The path has been carefully preserved and has its own special caged bridges over the pipes and there were two men mowing and strimming the path. Is the Queen going to walk along it or had they heard I was coming? Neyland is coming out of decline. It owes its existence to Brunel who had massive plans to link it to Paddington by rail and the boat to America for which he built a huge ship. I don't know the details as I thought I didn't have time to read the information board. Beth came out of her house to show me how to get on to the bridge across the Haven. She said she would wave at me on the bridge but I couldn't see her though I had stopped for a coffee between her and the bridge. Its a toll bridge over to Pembroke Dock except for pedestrians of which I can't imagine there are many. 'Pembroke Dock is a dump' said 2 young men to me when I stopped for a chat. I can understand their feelings as from what I saw it is very depressed and there was a feeling of loss of interest and resignation from the people I saw who were mostly hanging around, pushing prams, smoking and carrying plastic bags full of shopping. I waited for a bus to get me down to Bosherston which is 7 miles south of Pembroke and where I had booked bed and breakfast in the pub. Once again it didn't come so I checked the timetable and yes, the 16.05 was there and it ran through to May 1 but then, oh no, it only ran Monday, Thursday and Saturday. It was getting grey and cold and I was in danger of screaming. In the end I got a bus to Pembroke and started walking. When I was on the right road to my little village I started hitching. Almost immediately my angel of the day stopped and drove me right to the inn. My angel lives in the van he was driving in a layby which we passed where he gets good reception on his TV. His life has dealt him a blow but to me he was the good samaritan. I'm staying here for 5 nights. Tomorrow is a day off and then I shall use this as a base to walk this penninsula which is now south Pembroekeshire. The north coast has a large oil refinery and much of the south is a MOD rifle range. It's been grey all day today and not so warm.

I think I extolled the virtues of the local bus service for walkers. I have changed my mind. I bought a ticket to my starting point at Dale and at the same time a return from Milford Haven. The bus driver gave me a timetable to confirm the time that from Milford Haven. I waited half an hour outside Tescos in Milford Haven and eventually rang Traveline who said 'sorry. the information was incorrect and there was no bus'. I will now have to harangue the bus company for the £27 taxi fare! The sun goes on non-stop. i crossed Dale beach not long after low tide. I thought the next crossing a Sandy Haven was OK up until 2 hours before high tide. It was in fact 2 1/2 hours. I arrived 2 1/4 hours thinking to be early but arrived to see the stepping stones 6 inches below the water. I went for it with my shoes still on and just made it. Two lady spectators wondered if I would and were testimony to my heroism. My feet were wet for the rest of the day! Before the drama I had visited the delightful Norman church of St. Ishmael. The Cornish saint had taken over from St. David as the local very powerful bishop of this area. Not far from Sandy Haven which had inspired the artist Graham Sutherland came the impressive new gas terminal. I knew something was going on when I walked alongside new security fencing and then, behold, massive new piping and storage tanks and the massive tanker I had seen coming in yesterday. The tanker was tethered to a pier in the bay and was only the second tanker to unload it liquid gas cargo in preparation for the Queen and Prime Minister to come here on May 12 to officially open the new pipe which will take the gas in underground pipes up to Nottingham for distribution. The tanker was from Qatar and soon there will be three tankers arriving every week. My part time taxi driver turned out to be a health and safety officer involved in the whole enterprise. It is true, tankers do wait for weeks outside the bay for the oil price to rise before entering the haven. I caught the sun today on my arm and wore shorts for the first time this year. I'm alone in the male dormitory again and could theoretically sleep in any of 10 beds.

Another sun drenched day. The walk down to St. Ann's Head was easy walking with one especially flat part where there used to be an airfield. Marloes Sands is at least a mile long, beautiful and a very popular beach. Its very tempting to go through the narrow gap to Dale but of course I didn't. Although it wasn't very clear the light and colours were fabulous with lots of chuffs making their strange wheezing sound like they have a chest infection. I've almost learned Orlando's new song which is about crossing rivers. It has some difficult rhythms and funny words. I sing part of it at least as I cross any water which runs under my feet from left to right. There is still 2 weeks till its debut at Atlantic College where I hope some music students will sing the 3 underneath parts. Some of the river crossings are tricky. There is one coming up just before Milford Haven. I can only cross from 2 hours before or after high tide so I had to invest 70p in a tide timetable and plan my walk accordingly. THe next hostel is full up so I'm going to stay here in my cowshed for 2 more nights and make use of the shuttle bus service which covers the whole Pembroekeshire Coast Path in sections. This section is St. David's to Milford Haven, the next covers the penninsula from Pembroke Dock. I didn't meet a chapel with anything going on when I passed so my communion this Sunday was with nature. St. Ann's Head has an important lighthouse at the entrance to Milford Haven and even the locals are impressed by the new gas tankers. Ferries leave here for Ireland. Rounding St. Ann's Head introduces a whole new world. The whole huge bay is full of what is needed to serve the gas and oil industries. In this same estuary Henry Tudor landed in 1485 with 50 boats and 4,000 men. He gathered a load more from west Wales and went on to defeat Richard III and thus became Henry VII. I asked Mike Crutchley where the bus went from in Dale and he offered to run me there himself. Mike is a keen photographer but when her showed me one I was able to say that I'd just seen that very photo in a pub as I watched 10 minutes of Everton vs Manchester United. I remembered Mr. Atchley in Suffolk who had helped my at Orford. Scratchley, Atchley, and now Crutchley. Whatever next? I had fish and chips in the pub and watched Everton win the penalty shoot-out and get themselves in the FA Cup Final. I'm standing outside in the freezing cold as I end this blog.

A wonderful day with non-stop sunshine. A leisurely start in the caravan and a wonderful family breakfast of saucages from Haverstock West Market yesterday cooked by Karen. It was the first night in over 3,000miles I have spent in a caravan and I slept very well after helping Roy finish his very nice bottle of Welsh malt whiskey. I took notes of Roy's behaviour with his grandchildren as I am due to become a grandfather within a month courtesy of my eldest daughter, Tamsin. Roy is a bass in my U3A choir and has a great sense of humour. It was another day without rucksack as Roy kindly drove us both to Marloes youth hostel and then back to start the walk. He dropped me at a cafe in Little Haven run by Ceri (Kerry) Philips who sells Rosie's homebaked carrot cake. I wasn't really hungry so declined paying £3.00 for a slice. Whilst outside putting on suncream Ceri came out with a slice which she insisted was on the house claiming that I looked like needing a sugar shot. It was delicious and had pieces of ginger in the topping. Rosie got the recipie from her mother and like Claire's keeps it a secret. Claire's is still the better in my now expert opinion. The 12 mile walk was absolutely stunning along the beautiful coastline. A rich variety of rock types and features, beautiful beaches, flora and seabirds. I saw some chuffs today easily recognised by their strange call - gannets dove, fulmer glided and large beetles often scurried across my path. There were loadds of huge tankers waiting in the bay before going into Milford Haven. Roy claims they are waiting till the oil price rises. I thought of pirates. There were some lovely sailing boats out for a slow weekend sail there being almost no wind and again a flat sea. It was Ilse's funeral today in Edinburgh. She was a very dear friend and long ago had introduced me to the work of Rudolf Steiner for which I shall always be grateful. In the Times today there was a whole section devoted to great British Walks in which their expert suggested that 'walking these British Isles......is the nearest and earthbound soul can come to heaven'. I felt very close to Ilse whilst walking today. This area is again very much holy ground with ancient religious communities both on the coast and on nearby islands. The youth hostel is being run by 2 lady volunteers who do it for a week in exchange for accomodation. One of them is a nurse at Gatwick Airport. Both you hostels I have stayed in have the male rooms in converted cow sheds. This means that 5 nights out of 6 have been spent in cow sheds!

I was kindly given a lift from the hostel to Newgale where Roy Cakebread met me and took rucksack to his son's caravan in Broadhaven where I am staying tonight. It was raining so I had a coffee in a cafe which would have been full of surfers had the sea not been totally flat and the tide in. I ordered a carrot cake in memory of yesterday and regretted it but it lasted the time it took to read the Daily Mail, whichis not long. It was not a long walk today but since it was raining Brolly had to be involved so I set off rather lopsided with stick in one hand and Brolly in the other. I probably looke a bit odd but it worked OK. Brolly had an unusual task fending off insects. It was so still and sultry in the afternoon that hosts of flying nasties swarmed out of the undergrowth. Shortly after Newgale I crossed a historic line which marks the point where the Norman influence ended. The place names up until Newgale are Anglocised and above are definitely Celtic. There were coalmines here. There are lots of Welsh ponies over the hills with beautiful hairy fetlocks. Built into one hillside is a strange building which looks like a set from the Telly-Tubbies. It is in fact one of the first ecologically designed houses built 10 years ago for the local MP. It explains why so many parts of Pembrokeshire life show an awareness for the environment. Just before Broad Haven the cliffs are high but are being massively eroded. Tankers pass en route to the refineries of Milford Haven and to supply the new LPG Gas Line. Oddly there are a variety of benches along the path gifted as memorials to persons who enjoyed the view out to sea. There are 6 of us in the caravan tonight, 5 Cakebreads and me. We had a lovely meal in the local hostelry after which we compared the merits of Welsh malt whiskey with Londis' own brand. This is the first time in the whole trip when I have stayed in a caravan.

I made a last minute decision to leave my rucksack here at the Youth hostel near St. Davind's and come back for another night. I was supposed to camp at Newgale but thought it better to walk the 10 miles with my new sticks to get used to them. Brolly was a bit put out to have a day off so soon but hey... I offered another 52p to St. Non's and put more spring water on my knee and set off. What a change! I fairly flew along the path and the ups and downs caused no pain whatsoever. Was it a miracle, or are these sticks a miracle or is it full strength Ibuprofen pill which I should take everyday after breakfast? Breakfast today was actually a disaster. I put 2 croissant in the microwave and waved goodbye to them for 2 minutes after which it was goodbye to them having generated a huge amount of smoke and entered the bin putrified. Solva was delightful and will be forever remembered as the place where I had the best carrot cake of my life. Claire Hughes runs the little cafe by the delightful harbour and bakes them everyday to a recipe she got from her grandmother in Cardiff. She promised her Gran never to tell anyone of the magic formula! It should be a place of pilgrimage. She also gave me a second mug of coffee as I finished devouring her Daily Mail which brought me up to date with the football. I met Linda coming down as I was going up a hill. We were both using sticks so guess what we talked about! The tide was well down by 4.30pm so I was able to walk on the beach round to Newgale - my first beach walk this year. The girls in the cafe said that the next bus back to St. David's was in 20 minutes but after 40 minutes it had not appeared though Adam kindly gave me a lift. He is one of the Newgale fraternity who leap about in the air underneath a kite both on the beach and in the water. For Adam it is therapy after the stresses of his occupation. I made terrible choices in the supermarket over what to eat but had very nice company back at the hostel. There is a man asleep in my room who is going around the coast on a motorbike. In one day he has covered what took me 6 weeks. My only experience of being on a bike was romping around London on a Honda 50 as a student in the 60s in the days when you didn't even have to wear a helmet! At the same time I discovered the joys of walking having walked the Pennine Way in 1968 with a group of friends. I already knew from that experience how special walking was. It was a wonderful stretch of coastline today.

I had a coffee in the cafe at White Sands Bay and left without any ceremony whatsoever to start this year's walk. The weather was good for walking and quite mild for a time but the issue of my right knee became alarmingly apparent on the first incline and became more of an issue as the day went on. The Pembroekshire Coast Path though was wonderful, as good as any and better than most. This is a remote area geographically but kind especially to walkers. The path is well maintained and signposted. It is right on the edge, not arduous and with islands and rocky outcrops to give interest to the seascape. The whole area in and around St. David's must be as holy as anywhere in the United Kingdom with its heyday pulsating with hermits, pilgrims, shrines and religious communities. St. David's with its magnificent cathedral and imposing Bishop's Palace is very masculine but just half a mile to the south is the exquisite St. Non's Bay and the place where Non, David's mother, gave birth to him. There was a thunderstorm in the 6th century at the time of his birth and a spring sprang up adjacent to his birthplace which has since been a place where countless infirmities have been healed. Yes, I did shower my knee with the blessed water after which I tossed in 52p, genuflected in the chapel to the three saintly ladies Non, Winfred and Bridget before going to the cathedral and asking St. David to help as well. i then rang my sister who is a highly respected and experienced osteopath who said to take MSN and vitamin C and forget about the Ibuprofen recommended by a man who kindly took a photo of me singing across a stream. The path and cliffs were bursting with spring blooms in white, pink and yellow. The yellow broom was especially spectacular. I was surprised to see swallows but a man with an awesome telescope said they had been around since April 3. I got back to the same hostel as last night on a little bus called 'The Celtic Coaster' on which I was the only passenger. There was an almighty thunderstorm before I had a meal, the main dish of which was roast beef, carrots, peas and potatoes at a cost of 99p from the local supermarket so you can imagine what it was like. I spoke to Roy Cakebread, a bass in 2 of my East Grinstead choirs who is staying not far round the coast in his son's caravan. He is on standby for tomorrow night in case the scheduled night of camping is not a sensible idea!

Hello dear friends and potential new friends. This is likely to be a lengthy blog so I hope there are some interested people out there and that you may have the patients and endurance to accompany me fot the next 5 months. It took Kaya a little effort to get up to say goodbye and it has taken a lot of effort on my part to get going on this last leg. This is where you all have an important role. Way back in 2007 when I started this trip it was me leading the charge and gathering up interest. The second year I was excited about the west coast, especially Scotland which did not let me down - but by the end I was crumbling. This time round it has been hard to get both my body and head in gear. I've been worried by nasty things like knee pain and a bout of loss of balance so there was more time spent on treatment, acupuncture, homeopathy, pills, massaging and lots of omega 3. The many good wishes offered before leaving helped enormously in getting me back on track. Walking to the station in East Grinstead carrying a large rucksack that suggested serious intent and supported by the indefatigable Brolly brought a beaming smile from a lady who asked if I was going somewhere interesting. Yes, I said. There was no time for a chat as I only caught the train with a minute to spare. My good friend Darrol was already on the train so by chance we shared the start of my journey joined again by chance by Dawn at Lingfield, another friend off to work. Paddington to Cardiff to Haverfordwest then bus to St. David's and lastly a 2 mile walk to the Youth Hostel by White Sands Bay. Clifford kindly gave me a lift for the last mile on his way to watch the sunset. Here was a Scotsman giving an Englishman a helping hand in Wales. What an appropriate finale to the journey to last year's finishing point and this year's starting point. I feel good and look forward to starting tomorrow. I'd given myself low mileage walks for the first few days and don't have to carry Rucksack for I shall stay here again tomorrow. I bought a coffee in Cardiff where the young lady serving me had a very bad chest cough and called me 'my love' several times. It was a nice welcome to Wales which has so many charms.