“To begin at the beginning: It is a spring, moonless night in the small town, starless and bible-black, the cobblestreets silent and the hunched, courters’-and-rabbits’ wood limping invisible down to the sloeblack, slow, black, crowblack, fishingboat-bobbing sea.” Today is Dylan day;

I may not see the coast today, as the path heads down the River Towy and back up the River Taf. It’s also very misty, which is not great for a pre-dawn walk along a long road section. I’m happy

Although the wind and rain woke me around 1am, I slept for a record 12 hours. I think the early start yesterday, plus the long walk, caught up with me. It’s a misty morning. I rustle up some porridge and

It’s a cold, grey winter’s day, as I cross the Loughor Bridge, into Carmarthenshire. The welcome sign displays in Welsh before English, a reversal in order on crossing the county boundary, due to the much higher use of the Welsh

I’m not sure what to expect today, so I’m packed at 5:30, and back on yesterday’s trail, skirting the lower slopes of Rhossili Down. The light from my head torch reflects the green eyes of sheep, dotted on the hillside.

There are two things I really want to do on my visit to the Gower Peninsula. The first is to walk out to the end of Worms Head. The name is derived from the Old English word wyrm (‘sea serpent’).

It’s a bracing pre-dawn walk along the promenade from Swansea to Mumbles Pier, but I’m snug in four layers, with the bobbing headlights of keen joggers for company. The Gower Coast Path starts from Mumbles, and runs for 39 miles,

The frost on the boardwalk makes me slip and slide, so I step into the dunes. It’s a glorious morning. The frozen grass crunches underfoot and my white breath plumes ahead of me. The gothic Sker House dominates the bleak

Armed with my new winter sleeping bag, effective down to -17C, this week’s plan is to sleep under a roof in Porthcawl and Swansea, and then camp for two nights on the Gower Peninsula, the first area in the UK