Pembrokeshire Coast Path - Day 3: Goodwick to Aber Mawr

Pembrokeshire Coast Path Day 3: Goodwick to Aber Mawr – 8/5/19 

13.5 Miles, 2950 ft. gain

[If this reads like a diary entry full of personal details – you’re right! It’s my story. Some info may be helpful for your trip planning, there’s an abundance of photos because everything was so beautiful, and I believe food and drink and human connections are the secret sauce of traveling. As they say, “Take what you need and leave the rest.” Enjoy!]

Today and tomorrow have an added degree of difficulty with transportation arrangements.  This morning Danny and I return to the P’shire under our own power, but this afternoon, tomorrow morning, and tomorrow evening all require shuttles.  Before turning in last night we worked out logistics with our hosts for a pickup time this afternoon. We made our best estimate – a bit earlier than they thought it should be – perhaps we are trail jackrabbits! After our 7:00 a.m. breakfast-with-a-view, we headed back to the harbour where we left off last night. The timer started ticking.

A brooding early morning sky, but I see sunshine piercing through

A quick way to gain some elevation

We’re on the right track toward Strumble Head

These folks probably throw fun parties

At the end of this street we stepped off the pavement and into nature. Dew on the bushes and blossoms made their already brilliant colors even more intense. Breathtaking.

What a way to begin the day!  What could make it better than these gals standing on the trail?

Gimme some cows and coastline on a Monday morning.

The P’shire turns away from the cliffs and descends to Cwm Felin, a shady little valley with a bubbling stream. The gate advertised a cuppa tea if we were willing to follow the path to the hamlet of Llanwnda, but breakfast was still fueling us and we continued on. 

Just west of Cwm Felin is Carregwastad Point. On the cliff summit above, called Carreg Goffa, stands a rough stone monument for the site of “the last invasion of Britain” by French troops led by American Colonel William Tate on February 22, 1797. Wikipedia (which is always true) summarizes the attack: “It failed; the French troops discovered a cache of liquor saved from a shipwreck and were easily overcome by local men and women.” This blog post is a must-read of background, the bungled invasion, and formidable female Jemima Nicholas who, armed with a pitchfork, captured six Frenchmen and locked them up in a church.

I don’t normally suffer from allergies, but this morning I felt a sudden onset of itchy eyes, scratchy throat, and irritating cough. Looking around, we saw that trailside vegetation had been recently cut – so recently that the distant hum of weed eaters reached our ears as we walked up the next hillside. The source was walking in the same direction, however, so not so easy to overtake. After a mile of bleary-eyed walking, as the hum became a buzz and then a roar, we caught up with the source: trail maintainers. 

Most long distance trails in the U.S. are maintained by volunteers, but these nice fellows were employees of the National Park, called warden teams.  Danny eagerly asked details of how the National Park Service works, I’m sure making mental notes of comparison. The men were pleased to see us out enjoying the trail, and I was pleased to finally get ahead of them!

The wind picked up and so did our appetites as we walked onto Strumble Head, a broad headland of cliffs and dramatic lava features and easy access by car for bird watchers and everybody else. Keeping our eyes open for a cozy out-of-the-wind-but-still-with-a-view seat for lunch, we rounded the bend to Strumble Head Lighthouse. At first view it appeared to sit on the shore, but a closer look revealed a footbridge to its perch on Ynys Meicel (St. Michael’s Island). The lighthouse is not open to the public, but there is a large car park and trail access.

Opting not to join the many visitors scrambling around the paths closer to the lighthouse, we leaned into the increasingly fierce wind, still searching for a place to take a break. At an inward turn, we sat down right on the path and ate quickly even as people walked past.  Not a bad view, though.

While preparing for our adventure I read about seals along the Welsh coast, but it takes patience standing still to see them and we were always on the move. A short way west of the lighthouse, visitors were gathering to watch a dozen seals at play along the base of this volcanic outcropping. How did we know they were seals? Their heads bobbed above the surface as the water level ebbed and flowed, and as I looked closely I could see them dive under and pop back up.  A thrill for the seals and for me!

No, you can’t see the seals playing in this photo but you can see the playground

Now for the second half of today’s miles. Still up on the clifftops, a glance to the left was a constant reminder of human impact, past and present: rock walls, a patchwork of fields divided by hedgerows, and remnants of Ministry of Defence buildings on the hillsides.

Garn Fawr is an Iron age hillfort built on craggy rocks looming on the horizon (below). To be honest, I only noticed it in this photo later because I was stunned by the crazy steep-walled cove in front of me called Porth Maenmelyn. We had circled around the edges of many coves (and would see many more) but this one captivated my heart with its seemingly impossible drop to the wild beach below. Porth Maenmelyn was my favorite part of Day 3.

As Danny kept moving ahead, I ventured onto a side path 

for a closer heart-thumping look from the edge.

Halfway around the top of the cove, on the left side of the trail sits Tal-y-Gaer Farm

All the way around the top of the cove, looking back at Tal-Y-Gaer Farm

Around the next bend we were surprised by a steep climb (maybe I was just getting tired?) to Pwll Deri Youth Hostel, described in our guidebook as “the most exposed and spectacular site of all the hostels in Pembrokeshire.” We were just passing through, but if you’re planning your own trip, give it a try.

The rounded rock in the left foreground of the photo below was once the site of Dinas Mawr, another Iron Age promontory fort. At a trail junction on my approach to the hostel, the left path leads to the hostel and the right path leads out to Dinas Mawr. I hesitated, debated investigating the rock promontory, but I knew Danny was ahead of me and hadn’t planned on the detour. When we were past the hostel and I saw the trail from this angle, I was glad I hadn’t tackled it. If you stay at the hostel someday and hike to Dinas Mawr, think of me!

Pwll Deri Youth Hostel on the far right, Dinas Mawr on the left

From the hostel, the P’shire seems to run straight off the edge…

…into the cove of Pwll Deri

Danny and I had been monitoring the time all day, but our speed was slowing. Why did we feel so tired today? Had to admit that the honeymoon was over, the first two days of high energy were giving way to the work of a long distance hike and the added stress of a time constraint for our shuttle pickup. Beyond Pwll Deri, the next challenge soon presented itself as the P’shire passed up and over the rocky headland of Penbwchdy. But first, a hello from the local residents.

Nearly there! We danced along the eroded cliff edge of Pwllcrochan

REALLY nearly there!  Aber Bach

We arrived at the small road end near Aber Mawr right at the appointed time so we didn’t even take a look at the beach; then our driver/host was half an hour late as we cooled our heels. The drive back to Fern Villa was startling: the roads are single lane enclosed by hedges ten feet high and occasional pullouts wide enough for a car to pass.  If you’re not at a wide spot when another car approaches, there’s a game of chicken until one relents and reverses to a pullout.

Dinner at Hope & Anchor Inn Restaurant, a bit early for other patrons but the doors were open.  How about a huge burger with salad and cheese and bacon and…maple syrup? Yes, thank you!

“Look around. Look at what we have. Beauty is everywhere—you only have to look to see it.” ~Bob Ross