Day 8 - 11

 DAY 8

A day of cats and people rather than scenery. We saw several cats. One woman told us one of her two cats was shy because he was missing half the skin from his head when she got him as he'd been abused. His eyes were different sizes. This fluffy fellow in Pembroke Dock seemed to be asking us to open his front door so he could go inside.

It was a day of mostly urban walking. We crossed the huge, very high Cleddau Bridge.

There were three steel cages taking us over pipelines. 

This man walking his dog warned us of cows in the next field and told us his life story, and it was a hard life.

It was a warm day so icecream was required when we reached Milford Haven.

We stayed in a modern hotel with an absolute water view.

 DAY 9

We got lost, twice, while trying to leave Milford Haven, adding time, distance and confusion. We still had views of the refineries but the scenery gradually improved.

We were very conscious of time. There were two tidal crossings we had to make. If we missed the low tide we would have to walk a much longer alternate route. Made the first crossing at Sandy Haven, a pretty place that reminded us of Helford on the SWCP.

It was a two and a half hour walk to the second crossing at The Gann. But we made it in time. 

A shallow short paddle between the pallets and sand flats, then a walk along a road into the tiny village of Dale where we indulged in curried parsnip soup and coffee. Yum.

DAY 10

Dale village. The tide was still high.

There were some very over-grown tracks in the morning. Sheryl is in this picture. Can you find her?

Then the fog came in. Thick and white and damp. All afternoon.

Lunch, beside an empty house and old lighthouse converted into a coast watch tower. It's for sale if you're up for a Grand Designs restoration project. The fog horn from the nearby current lighthouse began its mournful warning cries as we sat here.

We walked away with only close views of the track beneath our feet and the fields close to us. Everything else was white due to the fog. We passed large expanses of old concrete, the remains of an airfield.

The fog lifted a little to reveal Marloe Sands which is quite impressive at low tide.

At the end of Marloe Sands, rises Gateholm Island, where over 130 hut circles indicate the remains of a large Iron Age settlement.

Then the fog rushed back in. At Martin Haven, we had a long cold wait for a bus. There's not much there, only a small visitor centre and jetty for the boat to visit Skomer Island, tomorrow's adventure. The bus finally took us home and to the pub for a warming dinner of pasta and cider.

PCP - part 2

 DAY 3

A glorious day of walking. Wonderful views. This is Swan Lake Bay. No swans or lakes.

The fabulous National Trust cafe at Stackpole Quay appeared right on time for lunch.

Walking into a head wind all day made it feel like our packs were a few kilos heavier, but the views were worth the effort.

Lattice Window ( or the Horny Devil Arch as S called it. Horny Devils are an Australian lizard)

Beautiful Barafundle Beach had a lovely feeling of peace as we walked from one end to the other.

On the next headland we walked very carefully, then sat down and then, due to strong gusty winds and updraughts, crawled to the cliff edge to sit and look down at waves surging into caves and guillemots nesting on ledges.

Bosherston Lily Ponds, just behind sand dunes, formed by damming a creek on a large estate. 

Another beautiful peaceful place, apart from the occasional disconcerting static of the rat-a-tat-tat of gunfire from the nearby military firing range.

Our pub for the night. St Govan's Inn.

DAY 4

This should have been another day of cliff views, rock arches and an ancient chapel built into a cliff but the army ruined it. We couldn't see any of that. This is one of many military firing ranges along the UK coast. They decided June was the time for a major live firing exercise. Today we heard the rumbling of tanks and saw many red flags as we walked an alternative inland route through fields. Boring.

The end of the day. Freshwater West. A long wild surf beach. The only buildings are a toilet block and a restored seaweed drying hut, once used by local women who collected seaweed to make laver bread, a strange Welsh delicacy that is nothing like bread.

We caught a bus to our accommodation in Angle, but because of the timing, the bus driver suggested dropping us at a cafe next to the pub in Bosherston which we had left in the morning, and he'd pick us up on his way back in the other direction. I really enjoyed my hot chocolate.

 Angle was an odd village. No shops, one pub where we had dinner and we stayed at The Globe Hotel which wasn't a hotel. It was run like a b&b but noone lives there and staff were only there at breakfast time, we were given a door code and we were the only guests. It was like rattling around in a large haunted house.

An eccentric garden in Angle.

DAY 5

A pub that kept the fire burning non-stop for 300 and was frequented by pirates.

A ferry from Ireland heading to Pembroke passes Thorn Island where a 19th century fort has been converted into a luxury hotel - yours for only 12,000 gbp a night

After a delicious stop at the only cafe in West Angle Bay, we spent the next 3 hours in gale force winds on cliff tops. Exhilarating but hard work on numerous steep sections and dangerous in places.

Too close to the edge, so we climbed through a fence to walk further away. At another spot, Sheryl was blown sideways into a barbed-wire fence and needed help to detach her pack cover which was caught and torn by the fence.

Sheep streaming down the slope and up the track, panicked when they saw us.

Freshwater West Beach again, from the other end this time. Wild, windy, 2 metre waves.

And a surprising number of people.

A flock of sanderling birds running in unison.

Welsh school kids are tough. Surf lessons in 15 degrees, gale force wind, 2 metre waves and a  beach known for strong rips.

The same bus driver returned us to The Globe Hotel in Angle, smiling as he said, 'Enjoy the refinery tomorrow.'

DAY 6

Oil and gas refinery, a power station and power lines, jetties and super-tankers.

But, also a picnic table for lunch at a wildlife reserve, no people, just birds and insects.

Plenty of woodland walks shielding the awful view, although we hear the humming, buzzing and throbbing most of the time.

A fabulous ancient oak tree. Probably around 500 years old with a trunk of maybe 6 metres thick.

The giant tap. The outflow for a dam that once produced electricity for Pembroke.

The day ended with a short urban walk and a bus ride to our hotel  in Pembroke Dock for the next 2 nights.

DAY 7

A semi-rest day. We walked for about an hour along the PCP to see Pembroke Castle, birthplace of Henry VII - Henry VIII's father) as well as other very significant history.

And so ends our first week on the Pembrokeshire Coast Path.