Pembrokeshire Coast Path - Day 1: St. Dogmaels to Newport

Pembrokeshire Coast Path Day 1: St. Dogmaels to Newport – 8/3/19 

18.1 Miles, 4000 ft gain

[If this reads like a diary entry with too much detail – 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!]  

This was the first multi-day hiking trip that I haven’t had to carry everything for the entire trek. What a wonder! Yet I still fretted over what to carry for the day and what to leave in my suitcase. What if we arrive at our next accommodation before our luggage does?  And will my neck pillow for plane travel fit in the suitcase or should I just toss it now?

Day 1, what ends up in my daypack: lunch, snacks, water, an extra shirt, tissues, rain gear, hat, bandanna, puffy jacket (who knows?), the day’s maps and photocopies of pertinent guidebook pages, info sheet about our next B&B, reading glasses because all print is too small, phone and chargers and adapters, first aid stuff including leukotape for blister prevention, headlamp (again, who knows?), wallet/ID/cash. Everything else was squished into my suitcase with fingers crossed that the poor fellow transporting it wouldn’t hurt his back.

At 7:00 a.m. Gill presented a bountiful breakfast served with plenty of chatter. She’s actively involved in many facets of her community, environmental issues, local crafts, the 2000-year history, and of course the Pembrokeshire Coast Path. I regretted that we couldn't spend more time in her home. Gill prepared for me a lovely homemade pesto sandwich with pickles to carry for lunch, and she walked with us to the trail’s start to send us forth. 

"The longest journey begins with a single step."  ~Lao Tzu

Our guidebook’s narrative was difficult to decipher until we were walking and not meant to be a step-by-step. Something mentioned in few words might encompass miles of trail. Trail markers were our surest method of keeping in the right direction. Gill assured us there was signage on every stile and gate – not true, but darn close – but we still missed some turns on our first day.

Our first 1.5 miles was mostly on a narrow road with little traffic at the early hour. A sharp left turn sent us climbing steeply up to the top of the cliffs…somewhere there are cliffs…we climbed enthusiastically over a gate and into a lovely pasture.

Looks like a very nice campsite – should we be down there?

Big lesson #1: despite how similar they look, not all trail signs are ours. The cute acorn symbol is generic to all hiking trails, and there are many intersections.

The sheep know we have lost our way

After a few more gates, we admitted that we were in the right neighborhood but the wrong backyard. Barbed wire fences lined with hedges prevented us as well as the sheep from getting to the cliff edges. We followed along until we found a dip in the fence (someone else’s solution in the past) and at last we got back on track. Looking back, we saw what we had missed (Cemaes Head) but decided to chalk it up to the first day’s learning curve and press on.

Weather report: overcast, a good breeze, not at all cold, one instance of rain enough to put on pack covers but it was over in half an hour

Mood report: thrilled, ecstatic, awed, humbled

International Appalachian Trail

Ah, this is what I’ve been looking for!

The trail stayed high on the cliff edges for miles, occasionally punctuated by gates and stiles, and lined with clumps of wildflowers and heathers. We met a few walkers who stopped for a chat. (This was the least populated day of our entire trek.)

How does the trail get around the estuaries? Well, depending on how deeply it cuts into the cliff, sometimes the trail winds in a U-shape along the top edge, and sometimes it goes down to the beach and then back up to the clifftops. Our first descending experience was at Ceibwr Bay, once a small port and now owned by the National Trust. There is road access and then a short walk to the beach.

 A group of kayakers getting a lesson before embarking on an adventure
(which we’ll have a bird’s eye view of shortly)

Little stone bridge crossing the estuary

 We’re going the right way!

 

We’ve caught up to the kayakers – or have they caught up to us?

Ahead of me, Danny is crossing a land bridge between the ocean on her right and a sheltered pool on the left. The pool is the result of a collapsed sea cave.

 I’m standing on the land bridge and here come the kayakers

 paddling underneath me to reach the cove

Joining more kayakers swimming in the cove called Pwll y Wrach, “Witches’ Cauldron”

Looking back at the path going over the land bridge

 Looking back again, wide view

How amazing is that?  And this is our first day on the P’shire! The Witches’ Cauldron was my favorite part of Day 1.

Still ahead lay six miles of “more strenuous” hiking, which translated to some very steep, short climbs that were each conquered in mere minutes, unlike miles-long strenuous climbs in the U.S. Over the course of the day, we walked steadily, stopping only for first and second lunch, powered by adrenaline that we were really HERE walking on the cliffs of Wales.

 Danny climbing up through bracken ferns on Morfa Head. These were ubiquitous throughout the coast walk. While they look feathery and delicate, they felt thick and leathery and inflexible like plastic – hardy stuff! (If you're interested in the ferns of Wales, look no further, it's all here!)

Danny took on the nightly duties of contacting the next day’s hosts, arranging for meal times and lunch orders and transportation if needed. I owe her a great debt because this was time-consuming and nerve-wracking at the end of each day. Our accommodations for tonight (a hotel at a holiday resort) were far enough from our path that Contour Holidays arranged for a taxi to pick us up. Sounds simple, but it didn’t always work smoothly. Today Danny was unable to make contact with the taxi company and we weren’t sure exactly where to leave the path. How will we know when we reach Newport Sands, our getting-off point?

Well, I think that’s it down there

In hiking, objects are farther away than they appear.  We wound around several more cliff edges as we approached Newport, increasing the anticipation of getting onto the sand. There were cars parked on the beach! But alas, the trail turned inland and I didn’t get to make footprints. Entering civilization and infrastructure required keen eyesight to follow trail markers, a lesson we would relearn every day.

Newport Sands – Traeth Mawr – “Big Beach”

Low tide at the estuary

A look back

A golf course?

At last we stopped at what we thought was our end point near Iron Bridge and tried again, without success, to reach our taxi company. In the end, Danny contacted the hotel to fetch us.

Llwyngwair Manor Holiday Park

The resort grounds were lovely, the hotel interior was a bit worn, and I didn’t take photos of our ordinary serviceable room. I was tired from the long first trail day (18.1 miles!), but a hot shower and clean clothes perked me up.  Danny and I had a simple supper (veggie lasagna and a baked potato) and I was introduced to Welsh Aspall cider – delish!  We struck up a conversation at the bar with three ruddy-faced retired gents. One fellow said he’s an avid walker – “it helps your head.” Another asked, “What do you think of Donald Trump?” (we’d hear that a lot) and Danny countered with, “Who voted for Brexit?” Our new friends insisted that we tell everyone how wonderful Wales is. Lots of laughs and a great memory with many more to follow.

“Still round the corner there may wait
A new road or a secret gate … “  
~J.R.R. Tolkien