North Pembrokeshire 2

One week after the scorching ‘thirstatholon’ I returned to North Pembrokshire, tent in tow and optimism (maybe slightly delusional) in overdrive. Sunshine was promised, so I’d conquer two days and a glorious night under the stars. Strumble Head greeted me with its flashing lighthouse and cliff top views, then it was on to Fishguard, its ferry groaning so loud even the seagulls flee in terror.

Stena Europe – its last month of service.

Just along the coast is the old harbour, full of character. An ancient castle whispered tales of battles past, then the path ushered me… into a caravan park. Don’t judge, they’re labyrinths, especially after several wrong turns fueled by a daydream of scoops and sprinkles.

Fishguard Castle.

Finally, out of the caravan maze and onto Dinas Head, a dark sand beach named Pwllgwaelod stretched before me like a pirate’s secret cove. Past the dramatic headland, I reached Cwm-yr-Eglwys. My daydream has been fulfilled, ice cream as I soaked in the ruined church and the gentle ebb and flow of the tide.

Pwllgwaelod

Cwm-yr-Eglwys

Onward to Parrog, Newport, the tide is in and the water is up to the garden walls of the houses. Rain came as I pitched the tent, there’d been weeks of sunshine and no rain forecast, my maiden camping experience was a washout.

Newport

Next day I drove to Cardigan, a quick bus ride whisked me back to Newport. Carreg Coetan, an ancient burial chamber humming with time, was worth the detour. The rain stopped just as I left, the emerald hills across the estuary glowing in the sun.

Carreg Coetan.

Then, things got epic. The path clung to the cliff face, my legs complaining like rusty swings, but the views! Pwll y Wrach, a turquoise pool born from a collapsed cave, and Ceibwr Bay where the rocks danced like frozen waves banded with colours like sunrise on the sea. These moments shut up even the whiniest of muscles.

The cliffs around Foel Fach

Godir Rhyg

Careg Yspar, Pwll y Wrach

Careg Wylan, Ceibwr Bay

Reaching Cemaes Head, and down to Poppit Sands I saw the sign: “Pembrokeshire Coast Path – First Gate.” And a grin filled my face. I was walking the whole thing… backwards! Not exactly the plan, but who says you can’t conquer a trail in reverse?

The Coast Path the wrong way

On I went, dodging cars and admiring Saint Dogmaels, a medieval monastery telling tales of monks and pilgrims. Just like that the Pembrokeshire part was done, another chunk of the coast conquered, one lost turn and one soggy campout at a time.

The end of the Pembrokeshire Coast path, looking over the Teifi Estuary

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