Pembrokeshire Coast Path Day 8 – Marloes to Dale Round Trip “Day Off”
8/10/19 – 5 miles
[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!]
Every day so far we have merely observed low tides and high tides, but tomorrow's tides will affect mileage. To take advantage of low tide (and shorter miles) at two locations in the morning hours, Danny and I had previously agreed to skip the miles circumnavigating the Dale Peninsula. Considering the continued storm conditions, it wasn’t wise in any case to hike on the cliffs in extreme winds like we had experienced yesterday even if we'd had the time. I may have said, “Hell no, I won’t go!” Danny’s excursion to Skomar was canceled but she wasn’t going to sit around. She suggested walking into Dale Village to scout our starting point for tomorrow.
With walking directions from our host to “go between these two buildings, turn left at the end of the path, then turn right, cross the airfield and go down the hill,” we went looking for Dale.
[Airfield, did you say? Built and operated as RAF (Royal Air
Force) Dale during the Second World War, then used for training by the Royal Navy
as RNAS Dale (HMS Goldcrest), the
land is now privately owned by a farmer. Neglected concrete runways and roadways and some buildings remain.]
Where are we going? The map below is Dale Peninsula. Marloes
is above the top edge of the map. We plan to walk southward through the
airfield (the dashed lines forming a triangle) and then somewhere near Westdale
Bay we should turn eastward toward Dale, on the eastern (right side) edge of
the peninsula – we’re walking across the “neck” of the peninsula. Sound
familiar?
Where are we NOT going? Around the perimeter of Dale
Peninsula, including St. Ann’s Head
A kind local woman said we're on the right track
Rain was intermittent and the high hedges along the narrow paved roads shielded us from the wind until we arrived at the airfield. Stepping out into the open, I was nearly knocked over. I mean leaning-forward-just-to-stay-upright wind. I mean cursing-out-loud-but-the-words-are-carried-away wind. The airfield was massive, stretching to the horizon. The frog signposts were gone. We followed a deteriorated concrete roadway, hoping that at least an obvious left turn toward the town would appear. [No helpful P’shire signs today.]
Well, there was an obvious left turn, i.e. the concrete
roadway ended at the cliffs. We followed another concrete roadway along the
southern edge of the airfield, now walking perpendicular to the wind that
continued at gale force. At last, stairs and a dirt path dropped us down into
the narrow valley.
Frothy surf at Westdale Bay
Stormy skies over the village
The road through the valley passes between a
row of colorful houses on the right and Dale Castle on the left. A structure was first built on the site in
the 13th century, but the “castle” that stands today is a private
home remodeled in the early 1900’s (not open to the public). Some red sandstone
walls, remnants of an earlier time, still stand alongside the path. (Read more here.)
The village seemed to be taking the day off, not many people
on the beach and few boats in use at the port. Danny was focused on the start
point for tomorrow. I opted to poke around the waterfront shops: one artists’
co-op and one gift shop. I sat down outside the Boathouse Café where exciting
things were happening.
An adorable Corgi brought his people to the café, but in his
opinion, they left him outside for too long. He could see them through the window, enjoying their
lunch. His antics to draw their attention, jumping and barking and
begging, continued nonstop until they returned to him. How can you be mad at a
cutie with such short legs? What might have been annoying if I was also trying to
eat was instead entertaining as I had nothing else to do. This fellow
was my favorite part of Day 8.
A family from Austria, a mother and three teenagers,
arrived with fully loaded backpacks.
They were hiking the P’shire northbound, camping all the way. I
didn’t envy pitching a tent in
stormy conditions and blustery winds.
I walked out on the pier and then parked on a bench to watch
whatever happened next.
Meanwhile, Danny walked a busy road section to locate the
Pickleridge car park and satisfied herself on where we needed to go in the
morning. [More on her extensive
research for tomorrow’s challenge coming up.] She found me still sitting on
the bench by the water.
After a cup of coffee (no flat whites here, thank you) we
headed back to Marloes. The wind was no less brutal and I was no less
frustrated with struggling against it. We got sidetracked onto a runway (doesn’t all
cracked and weed-ridden concrete look the same?) until I referred back to my
photo of the right path with a fence running alongside it, and we corrected
course. The one-mile distance that our host had described actually clocked in
at 2.5 miles – each way.
View from the airfield looking back up the coast to
Tower Point, hazy on the horizon
Return walk to Marloes
We arrived at the Clock House around 2:00 p.m. and spent the
remainder of the afternoon reading, writing and resting. Supper was back at the
Lobster Pot, toasting to my least favorite day so far (fortunately, it all got
better from there). Hiking mostly requires the right attitude, but sometimes
poor weather gets the best of me. If I could do it over, what would I do
differently? Something to ponder.
Tomorrow is a new day and an exciting new challenge – racing
against the tides at The Gann and Sandy Haven.
Listen to the wind blow
Where does the wind go?
What does the wind know?
Listen to the wind blow. ~Buffy Sainte-Marie
Where does the wind go?
What does the wind know?
Listen to the wind blow. ~Buffy Sainte-Marie
