Day 155: Trefin to Fishguard

A new year begins and a lull in the train strikes allows a return to Wales. The plan is to hike for eight days, completing the Pembrokeshire Coast Path and the 60-mile Ceredigion Coast Path, before reaching the southern edge of Snowdonia.

The forecast is for unsettled weather, with gale-force winds, freezing temperatures and rain. I learnt my lesson after last winter, so no camping this time. Somewhat belatedly, I discovered Independent Hostels which is an excellent source of cheap accommodation and the chance to meet like-minded adventurers, although probably not in winter!

The journey to Fishguard is no different from previous travels. We are all thrown off the train at Swansea and a replacement bus is provided; another compensation claim. I’ve yet to pay the full fare to Wales; no wonder the train companies are struggling. A double-decker luxury bus is provided for four of us and I sit upstairs at the front with a fine view of the wild weather. Glad I’m not hiking today.

The long journey passes quickly, chatting to 75-year-old Loreen who has lived near Fishguard all her life. Her father died when she was 14, leaving her and her mother to work their farm. A young age to be driving the tractor, milking cows, delivering calves and stacking hay bales six rows high. I’ll mention that to the children next time they complain about household chores.

The Hamilton Backpackers Lodge is home for the next three nights. I arrive to find a local Hells Angel enjoying a cuppa in the lounge. The owner, Steve, is a member of one of the feeder clubs. It’s a lovely place, full of character. Steve could not be more helpful, inviting me to share spaghetti bolognese washed down with a fine bottle of red wine, followed by a visit to his local pub. A cosy place with a roaring fire and everyone is very friendly. The sort of pub where people buy you a drink even if you say no. Thankfully they were out of tequila. Four pints later, I make my excuses. A great night but I’ll pay for it tomorrow with a 5:30am start and a hard day’s hiking.

Next day

The alarm goes off in the dark and I’m tempted to roll over and go back to sleep, but there are only eight hours of daylight and I’ve 20 miles of remote cliff-top walking ahead, climbing 4,200 ft, so I catch the first bus, arriving at Trefin before dawn. It’s bitterly cold in the dark, but I’ll soon warm up after a few climbs.

Ghostly beams from the distant lighthouse on Strumble Head periodically sweep the grey horizon. A sign warns: “Beware deep animal holes.” No kidding; do they have bears in Pembrokeshire?

Dark skies shroud ship-wrecking cliffs plunging into a foaming sea.

The stream at Aberbach beach is swollen by the rain and too deep to cross without stripping off my muddy gear, so I take the short diversion inland. It’s going to be a long day.

The diversion leads to a pretty stone bridge crossing.

The path climbs up and along a series of rocky ridges. It’s a stunning section but exposed to the wind, gusting up to 50 mph. As usual, the wind is either to my back or my left side, pushing me inland. A couple struggle, heads down in the opposite direction, accompanied by a tiny dog that’s in danger of becoming a balloon.

The igneous intrusion of Garn Fawr, the site of an Iron Age fort, dominates Strumble Head.

The views are wonderful, the wildness amplified by the howling wind.

A memorial to the Welsh poet, Dewi Emrys, overlooks Pwll Deri. The inscription translates to: “and these are the thoughts that will come to you / When you sit above Pwllderi”. I’m thinking of chasing a beanie hat snatched by the wind.

The path curves and narrows to a few feet, with a dry stone wall to my right and a vertiginous drop to my left. Halfway round, the gusts strengthen, and I drop to my knees, leaning into the wall. I’m not sure it’s strictly necessary but it makes me feel better.

Back on my feet, the rain returns, creating a fleeting rainbow.

Strumble Head Lighthouse, built in 1908, stands alone, surrounded by the raging sea. I’d not fancy the narrow bridge crossing today.

Approaching the final headland before Fishguard Bay, a group of seals are resting far below in an inaccessible rocky cove, undisturbed by meddling humans and their dogs.

It’s dark now and I’m curious as to how well my eyes will adjust to the gloom, trying to reach Goodwick without using my torch. I give up when my feet vanish, switching on my head torch a hundred yards before the first streetlight.

I fall into the Royal Oak for a well-earned pint and curry. The pub hosted the signing of a peace treaty in 1797 after the last invasion of Britain was repelled. The French troops were more interested in drinking and looting, and within two days the invasion had collapsed.

A wonderful first day’s hiking, although I don’t recommend an early morning hangover.

Walk distance: 21 miles.

Total distance: 2,509 miles.