Pembrokeshire Coast Path Day 6 – Solva to Broad Haven –
8/8/29 – 13 Miles, 3370 ft. gain
[If this reads like a diary entry full of personal
details – it is! Some info may be helpful to someone planning a similar trip,
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!]
Some wise person once said, “Be careful what you wish for,
lest it come true.” I learned that lesson today (and re-learned it a few more
times) enjoying a cooked-to-order breakfast. Who could resist a bright cheery
dining nook and the rationalization that today will be a low mileage day? Bring
on the sausages! The lesson, of course,
was too much in the tummy. I’m not accustomed to eating breakfast at all in
daily life. Ah, well, I got my wish of the B&B package experience. The
second cup of Welsh coffee did hit the spot.
We met the morning patrol on our way out of town
Solva at low tide
The P’shire crosses the River Solva, goes quickly up and
over Gribin Ridge and just as quickly down to the valley of Gwadn. If I had
known to look further up the valley, I might have seen St. Elvis Farm, originally
a parish named for St. Ailbe (Elvis), the nephew of St. Non, who was the mother
of St. David. Some say that St. Elvis baptized his cousin, St. David. [Parallels
to John the Baptist and Jesus?] Go down the Google rabbit hole at your own
risk in search of Elvis Presley’s heritage theories: here and here.
Emerald hues uncovered at low tide
Goodbye, Solva. I look back often on hikes to gain a
different perspective, and this view of Solva especially sparked my imagination
of walking the P’shire from the opposite direction,
northbound rather than
southbound
This morning I cried “uncle” to the strong sun. Multiple
times a day I’ve been lavishly applying sunscreen to face, neck, ears and arms.
However, I neglected my legs that were now crisp and red, so today I zipped on
the “legs” of my hiking pants (and kept them on for the remainder of our trek).
I’ve been carrying a wide-brimmed hat and tried it out today. In polite terms,
I do not like the hat.
Dinas Fawr
This is the symbol for a generic side trail (similar to
a “blue blaze” on the AT that signifies a
water source or an entry from another
point). I dubbed this guy “Big Foot.”
Dinas Fach
Still have the hat on!
Looking down at Penycwm Beach, the reddish shore caught my
interest. Red sand? I’ve seen a red sand beach in Iceland – could this be the
same? When we reached the side scramble down to the shore, Danny continued on
while I investigated. Not red sand – red seaweed, exposed by the low tide and
drying a brownish red color. Intriguing and squishy to walk on. But when I returned to the path on the
clifftops, the bigger picture was revealed, and it was absolutely astounding.
The red algae in the blue water appears purple, washing into the contours of
the rocky cliffs.
WOW. I’m gonna have to find some more words.
The
colors at Penycwm Beach was my favorite part of Day 6.
Even more noteworthy, at the northern end of the beach the
Brandy Brook flowing into the ocean “marks the western end of the Pembrokeshire Landsker – the invisible dividing line between Welsh-speaking (north) and
English-speaking (south) parts of Pembrokeshire, called little England beyond
Wales.” Read Wikipedia’s simple information here and a more entertaining blog
post about the “Landsker Line” here.
Danny and I stopped for a bite
to eat and, of course, a cup of coffee
This woman looks like a good
person to be friends with – wonder where she’s going?
Or is she returning from someplace
fun?
A dog and his boys playing on
the beach
A wide pebble bank (created by that
1859 storm) separates the sandy beach from the road. The bank looks flat in a
photo, but it is mounded more than ten feet high. The rocks shift and slide and
are challenging to walk on.
Danny is pounding the pavement
and I’m “on the rocks”
Per the guidebook’s instructions, we
walked to the southernmost parking lot hoping to “return to the footpath proper
when invited to do so by a fingerpost on your right.” A lovely couple in the
parking lot pointed us to an acorn trail marker on the opposite side of the
road. Saying “Where is the coast path?” is sometimes met with a shrug, much
like asking, “Where is the Mountains-to-Sea Trail?” back home. People may know
there is a trail but don’t know that it has a name. In this case, the acorn
marker wasn’t our trail. Instead, we followed the road up and around a curve or
two until we found the inviting fingerpost on the right, as promised, and we
were on our way.
Goodbye, Newgale Sands
Past that point the cliffs were
lower, gentler slopes towards the water.
A startling exception is Rickets Head, a crumbling remnant getting bashed
on both sides by fierce waves and tides.
Patient Danny took my photo as I ran up to the base of the rock.
“Can you see me now?” Yes, I’ve
forsaken the hat.
Looking back at Rickets Head, a strikingly different formation from this angle
“Enjoy the view” Bill Jones
Nolton Haven is a small, sheltered
inlet with some boats, an inn, and a pub (toilets!).
The farming community of Nolton is a
half-mile inland.
Nolton Haven United Reformed
Church’s Congregational Chapel, completed in 1858, still active
Looking back at Nolton Haven
and sea caves
Don’t forget to look inland! This innovative house was tucked
up into the hillside.
Perhaps they made all the signs pointing in the same direction?
Sheep’s Bit
Common Knapweed
East of Nolton Haven, the
P’shire follows the cliffs above Druidston Haven and then takes a turn onto the
road again to pass around Druidston Hotel (the cliffs in front of the hotel are
private.)
Druidston Hotel
As many times as we’ve come around a
bend to see a beach below, I still get a thrill from the bird’s eye view – especially
Broad Haven, as our home for the night was right there on the beachfront. The day’s miles may have been short, but the
elevation gain was significant and my tired body felt it.
Anchor Guesthouse in August is a busy place
Fabio checked us in and made our day
with his handsome smile, big personality and close attention to whatever we
needed. We inquired
about laundry service and Fabio said, “Yes, of course!” We rushed to gather our
dirty belongings. No hand washing tonight!
After a quick look at the convenience
shop close by (do I have enough candy bars?) we returned to the hotel’s
restaurant called Sunshine Italian. Surprise! Fabio was our server. Over
Magner’s cider and a glass of wine, we discussed the stormy weather forecast ahead.
The expression in Wales is that if the weather forecast is bad, believe it, and
if it’s good, don’t believe it.
After dinner, I walked over to peek
at the beach - and the rain moved in.
"Our memories of the ocean
will linger on, long after our footprints in the sand are gone."
~Author Unknown
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