Pembrokeshire Coast Path – Day 14 – Manorbier to Amroth – 8/16/16
16 Miles – 2,550 ft. gain
The rain woke me from an already-restless sleep, wind
gusting and loud raindrops that my earplugs couldn’t suppress hitting the
picture window beside my bed. I pulled back the curtains to affirm that the
weatherman is right today.
Our customary early start meant foregoing the last
opportunity for the “breakfast” part of B&B’s but Jim, our host, left
goodies in a little fridge outside our door. Once again it was tricky to eat in
the room amidst all the chaos, but we got the job done and out the door on
time. [A pat on our backs that we never left anything behind at any of our accommodations.]
I stepped out the door “rain ready” in my rain pants, rain
jacket and pack cover. Danny and I walked through town on roadways to return to yesterday's stopping point. The former Manorbier Army Camp property has
been repurposed as a youth hostel and campgrounds. Here we started our final hike
on the P’shire.
Experiences of the prior 13 days manifested on our last day
– wet weather, strong winds, route finding through towns, road walking, coffee
break cravings, cliffs, beaches and woodlands. What we lacked was low tides,
calm seas and sunshine. Ah well…
Back on the clifftops, the fierce wind was familiar and intimidating;
we knew there was little chance of it abating (in fact, it did not stop for one
minute all day long). A confusing tangle of paths led out to the edge of
Lydstep Point, but thankfully the P’shire signposts directed us across the neck
of the peninsula and down to a smart little community of caravan homes called
Lydstep Beach Holiday Village, an alternative to walking along the beach. The
land was once part of elegant Lydstep Estate. I was charmed by the modest
attractive homes with a knockout view of Lydstep Haven – what a lovely location
for a holiday getaway or, heck, a retirement cottage.
Lydstep Manor House
Goodbye, Lydstep, until next time!
Enduring more exposure and sideways rain, I began having a
conversation with myself about finding an alternative. When I looked out where the path was headed, Danny and I began talking out loud and we agreed: let’s find a way inland to a road.
Lucky for us, the area encompassing Giltar Point is a rifle range associated
with Penally Camp, and at a fence we found signs for an alternative route away
from the cliffs.
Giltar Point – no thanks, we’ll pass
At the main road through Penally, we turned right and
followed the sidewalk to the New Overlander Inn – if ever we needed a coffee
shop, it was now! We blew into the café
sopping wet, commandeered a table and spread out our gear. No doubt we were
rude Americans, but I hope we were forgiven.
It was hard to put all that wet gear back on and return to the
fray. I knew I would press on and complete the hike, but the mental struggle
was real. I recalled our training hike back in May in a downpour on the
Mountains-To-Sea Trail and realized, “This is what that was for!”
Entering the town of Tenby at South Beach
Looking back at South Beach
Looking ahead towards St. Catherine’s Island and Fort
St. Catherine
Still avoiding the full force of the elements, we opted to
cut through town rather than round the point of Castle Hill. Tenby is a 13th
century medieval town, but it’s also a quaint not-too-small seaside tourist town.
The sidewalks were bustling with people trying to squeeze a good time out of
drenching rain. On a clear day we would have stopped for lunch at a streetside
table for two and enjoyed the people parade. Today we were tested to follow
little acorn stickers on lampposts. They were easy to see until they weren’t.
In this tourist haven we couldn’t find local residents to direct us, so we burned
time and some extra calories going back and forth until we hit on an escape
route out of town via The Croft, back on the P’shire once again.
Goodbye, Tenby, wish we had gotten to know you!
Castle
Hill and the ruins of Tenby Castle on the left
The Croft is a minor paved road leading out of town, threading
between beach parking, campgrounds and small hotels. We spotted public toilets
at a car park and hurried down the hill, only to find that there was a pay
stile charging 4p to pee! I was not about to dig deep into my backpack to find
coins. If I was arrested for jumping the stile, at least I would be locked up
in a dry cell.
Alternating from pavement to footpath, we enjoyed passing
through lush Lodge Valley’s twisted trees and narrow hedgerows, brief glimpses
of the ocean, and more campgrounds and hotels. If only we were guests at one of
them tonight! But…
A few steps’ detour to the shoreline to peek at the
village of Saundersfoot shrouded in mist.
On a sunny day (and low tide) we
could have walked on the beach from this point
all the way to the end of the
trail in Amroth.
Having pushed past the time we should have eaten lunch, in
Saundersfoot we stopped at the first restaurant we saw (The Captain’s Table) for a dry lunch break. Our rain jackets and daypacks dripped
in little puddles around our chairs. Once again we packed it all up and stepped
outside.
Leaning into the wind and chilling rain, Danny and I pressed
on, passing Coppet Hall Point and Wiseman’s Bridge without comment. The last
half-mile of our journey was on the beachfront road at Amroth. Seeing its cheerful (but deserted) shops selling
sand toys and ice cream, for a moment I felt transported across the Atlantic to
the Grand Strand of Myrtle Beach, SC.
Pembrokeshire Coast Path monument at Amroth
There was no one to greet Danny and me at the monument
marking the southern terminus, but we cheered and celebrated our 186-mile accomplishment
as though it was being broadcast worldwide. We took photos of each other, but we needed one of us together
for the ultimate victory pose. I went to the pub across the road, The New Inn,
and asked if anyone was willing to join us in the pouring rain to commemorate
two women finishing the P’shire. A woman immediately volunteered, pulled her coat over her head and splashed through puddles to serve as photographer. She
seemed as excited as we were! Only later did I realize that she needed the assistance
of her cane to get out there.
Elation, exhilaration, jubilation, exultation, all
those big words for YIPPEE, WE DID IT!
This was my favorite part of Day 14!
We entered the pub to cheers and toasts from patrons enjoying
the weather through the window. Danny wanted a hot drink and I was ready for my
celebratory cider.
Can you believe our accommodations for the night were back
in Saundersfoot? Ah, me. Our taxi
retrieved us from the pub and delivered us to Cwmwennol Country House, where we
converted our room into a laundry, hanging wet gear on every available knob
and peg.
The beauty of the Welsh Coast exceeded all my
expectations. The Pembrokeshire Coast Path is a moderate hike with a few
strenuous sections. Our schedule was ambitious and the hike can be stretched out over more days, which I
recommend in order to enjoy more attractions. You can book your own
accommodations and be self-supporting, but it was fantastic to have my suitcase
waiting for me at the end of each day. I gained confidence that I would be comfortable as a solo
traveler on long distance trails like the P’shire, but sharing the journey with Danny was very special.
No matter where I travel, from the backcountry to small
towns to large cities, the people I meet are the best part of it all. Everyone
we encountered in Wales (even if they weren’t Welsh!) was friendly, curious,
interested, patient and helpful. I am grateful for them all.
“It is good to have an end to journey toward;
but it is the journey that
matters, in the end.” ~Ernest Hemingway
