Category: Life in General

“If you are in a bad mood go for a walk. If you are still in a bad mood, go for another walk.” – Hippocrates

I’m with Hippocrates on this. Whenever life gets oppressive nothing works as well as lacing up the boots and getting out of London for a day of solitary walking.

Occasionally, I’m lucky enough to carve out the time to do something more substantial. You can read my account of walking the 630-mile South West Coast Path here. (I can’t claim it’s as redemptive and life affirming as Raynor Winn’s The Salt Path – much in the news recently – but it has the same scenery and weather, and more pubs. And is all true.)

Having walked the coast of south western England, I was stuck for an encore. I toyed with inland trails, notably the Wessex Ridgeway, but that was tame after the glory of the Cornish and Devonian seascapes. So I returned to the coast, and with two old friends I recently hiked the first half of the Pembrokeshire Coast Path, in Wales.

I don’t intend to blog about it day by day, but here are a few lessons learned:

1. Coastal Miles Are Longer Than Inland Miles

I should know this by now. A 12-mile hike in the Surrey Hills is a different proposition to the same distance on the switchback terrain of a hilly path that winds in and out, following the eccentric line of our rugged coast. I learned this lesson repeatedly in Cornwall, but I keep forgetting it.

Day One in Wales was an example. We set out from Cardigan and had walked two miles before we even picked up the Path at St Dogmaels. After that, it was 17 miles of what the guide described as “challenging” walking – lung-bursting climbs, followed by knee-straining scrambles back down to sea level. Rinse and repeat. On the hottest day of the year so far.

We were able to cool off with a lunchtime swim at Ceibwr Bay, one of many attractive, deserted beaches. But the day got hotter and hotter, and the walking got tougher and tougher. I had packed four bottles of water. By mid-afternoon I had finished them all.

The views were fabulous, but I would happily have stopped after 13 or 14 miles, instead of trudging on, slowly shrivelling in the sun.

At last, we reached the cafe at Newport Sands. My order consisted of a cold can of water, a diet Coke, and an ice cream. All at once. And it wasn’t enough. Half an hour later, we reached our destination at the Castle Inn, where I had a pint of icy lime and soda and copious beer. And still i was thirsty.

2. Short Cuts Are Acceptable

I walked with two of my oldest and best friends. This in itself made the trip a pleasure, but there are drawbacks. Some people are a little more, um, fundamentalist about walking a trail. I knew the first day was going to be hard. There was scope for cutting it shorter at the start by taking a bus or cutting across the first headland. I was keen to do both but was overruled. After that, there was no option but to trudge every mile of the coastline.

The rigours of the first day meant we were all tired and sore next day. It was an easier trek, with a cooler start, but even so, the day became increasingly hot and the coastline was tediously wiggly, with not so much climbing as day one, but more than enough. One of our party had started with a knee problem, and this became progressively worse through day two. By the time we plodded into Fishguard, he was finding it hard to walk, and indeed on subsequent days he took buses to meet us along the Path.

This was obviously Not Good. But there was one silver lining – the impact of overdoing it on the first day meant that those of us still walking became increasingly cavalier about the route. On day three, confronted with a 20-mile trek, we junked any ambition of walking round Strumble Head and instead cut across the headland, saving at least five miles and allowing us the added bonus of a mid-morning stop at a splendid cafe at the Melin Tregwynt mill.

After that, we had an easy stroll down a wooded lane to the sea at Aber Mawr, where coastal walking resumed, with the familiar routine of steep ascents and descents. For which we had more in the tank than if we’d pedantically sweated round the coast.

3. Remember Rest Days

The third lesson flows from the first two. If you’re overly ambitious in your planning, you’ll soon tire of the walk, whatever the beauty of the scenery. We did five consecutive days of walking, partly because we had to cram the trip into our schedules. It was notable that each day we walked a shorter distance, culminating in a bus trip on day five that shaved off the first six or seven miles.

We reached Broad Haven by lunchtime, way too early to check into our hostel. But by this point, we were sufficiently leg-weary that any shortening felt like a good thing and the stunning beauty of Whitesands Bay was easy to take for granted.

Note to self: in future, programme in a rest day – or at least a very easy day – every third or fourth. Enjoy the walk rather than becoming fixated on simply completing it. You may never come this way again.