Day 160: Penbryn to New Quay

The bus drops me at Sarnau for a challenging 20-mile hike to Aberaeron. The long journey means a late start, so there may not be sufficient daylight hours. I’ll just go with the flow.

It’s a glorious morning, with the scrunch of frosted grass underfoot, following a wooded valley down to the coast. An iced wooden gate opens grudgingly and donkeys peering over bushes bray loudly in hope of breakfast.

There’s a steep climb out of Penbryn. My feet slip on the smooth icy track, so I switch to a shallow stream, the rough bed offering more grip. Cresting the hill, steps plunge into the next valley; memories of the South West Coast Path.

The scenery is stunning. The graceful curve of Pen-y-Badell, with the snow-capped mountains of Snowdonia on the horizon. Some days I get this early feeling they’re going to be special. It’s hard to express but all my senses are heightened. Perhaps it’s just the cold.

Descending once more to the pretty bay at LLangrannog, there’s the satisfying childhood pleasure of breaking ice under my boots — crunch, crack.

The bronze statue of Saint Crannog watches from the headland.

The clouds roll in, but the approach to Pen-y-Badell is dramatic and beautiful.

Rounding the hill, I’m overtaken by a woman in rainbow-coloured gear, with a small dog who scatters the friendly robins. She looks super-fit and strides straight up an almost vertical grassy slope. I consider following for a moment, before taking the longer, more gentle ascent on the main path.

There’s an ominous cloud out at sea. I hope it’s not heading my way as I’m on an exposed hill climb before descending to Cwmtydu Beach.

The weather front races towards me. Time for the waterproofs.

Rainbow Lady returns from the summit. She watched me “chicken out” of following her up the steep hill. Sigh — credibility shot.

There’s no shelter so I may as well choose my ground, finding a rock to sit on. An M&S beef and horseradish sandwich never tasted so good. I feel like the chap in the old Hamlet adverts, sitting with his cigar, waiting for the storm to hit. The snow washes over me, hunched over my food. I’m warm and dry, so it’s strangely exhilarating.

Fifteen minutes and the snow passes. It’s so calm. The sea is like glass, and the air has a sharp smell.

A pretty gorse-lined path winds up to New Quay Head and the Cardigan Bay Lookout, last used by Coastguards in the 60s. It’s now used for monitoring bottlenose dolphins in the summer. I’d love to see a pod, having scanned the sea all week, but it’s unlikely as they head north to the Isle of Man in Winter.

A young girl blowing a kiss towards the horizon marks the halfway point of the 870-mile Wales Coast Path. Apparently, it reminds us of the longing of New Quay families for the mariners who spent months away at sea.

It’s getting dark, so I abandon any thought of walking on to Aberaeron. I’ll need to change my plans for the remaining days, making it impossible to reach Machynlleth by the end of the week but sometimes less is more. Another wonderful day.

Walk distance: 13 miles.

Total distance: 2,577 miles.