Day 96: Tenby to St Govan’s Head

It’s a long old trek down to Pembrokeshire, so this is the start of my first week long hike. I’m camping for four nights and staying in overnight accommodation during Storm Eunice. The worst of the storm is forecast for the North, so I’m optimistic. I also want to test my tent and wet weather gear before hitting Scotland.

The wind is whipping up the sand on Tenby South Beach. I must get some sunglasses. I already struggle at the end of the day, walking directly into the low sun.

This is my sort of coastline; jagged rocks, towering cliffs, and crashing waves. It’s a gale force wind, and I’m definitely in for a buffeting. The foam floats up to the cliff top and covers the grass. A smart, solitary sheep, seeks sanctuary behind a tiny wall fragment, leaving the rest of the flock to cling to the the hillside. Wild ponies huddle together; their manes streaming in the wind.

This is my toughest day, as I arrived at Tenby at noon, which leaves six hours of daylight to cover 17 miles to the only campsite that is open, near St Govan’s Head. I’m spending two nights there, so I can relax and explore the area tomorrow, before the Castlemartin firing range opens on Friday, allowing me to walk the spectacular section to the Elegug Stacks. I’m comfortable hiking in the dark, but normally plan to finish on a decent path. Today will be different.

The rain has started. Regardless of the weather, and the daylight window, I really want to take a closer look at the limestone arch at Church Doors cove, so carefully climb down the long staircase to the rocky beach. It’s worth the effort.

Returning to the cliff top, it’s slow progress, with the wind pushing me sideways, thankfully from the west. The scenery is stunning; towering, vertical limestone, draped in green. I have to remove my gloves each time I take a picture, and my iPhone gets progressively wetter. If I keep doing this it will be midnight before I pitch!

The powerful waves are hard to resist. Just one last photo and then I need to cover some miles.

The sun makes a miraculous appearance at the end of the day, but it’s short lived.

Night falls. I try to follow the track by moonlight, but the wind and rain pick up again, driving into my face, making it hard to see. I dig out my head torch and the beam sweeps the cliff top. I keep to the fence line, a long way from the cliff edge. The trickiest section is finding my way down to Broad Haven beach, across the dunes, and back up to Trefalen Farm, where I’m camping. The path is not obvious, and I take a couple of wrong turns through the dunes. I really try to avoid dunes at night. I’m relieved to find some steps up to a car park.

There are three motorhomes in the field, and I pitch beyond the last one, behind the highest section of hedge I can find. Stashing my gear inside, I walk to the farmhouse to check in with the owners, who were anxious about my progress. I have no phone signal.

The farmer is very concerned about Friday. Tomorrow, my planned rest day, is fine. Apparently the storm has moved south, and he shows me a time-lapse projection for the local area on his laptop; waves of red, with 95 mph wind forecast. He’s not seen this in 25 years of farming. We discuss my options, and agree to take stock in the morning. For now, it’s a hot meal and a warm sleeping bag.

My gear has come through with flying colours, as I’m still dry under my outer layers, with only slightly damp socks, which I was expecting until my new boots arrive. A pretty wild day, and I feel tired, but strangely happy. I made it.

Walk distance: 17 miles.

Total distance: 1,468 miles.