A whole month has passed and I haven’t had a chance to sit down and write – so my memory of this walk will be sketchy – life happens…….
So, after a complicated taxi arrangement, we are deposited at Fox Hole, which looks nothing like the ones in our embankment, and set off westwards, heading for the pinnacle guarding the entrance to Threecliff Bay. It’s a dull day with promising patches of blue sky – “enough to make a sailor suit” – as my mother used to say.We soon find ourselves tramping through the dunes of Pennard Burrows, all roads lead to Rome so they say – and there are many steep trails of soft sand to be conquered. I go one way, Damian goes another so I stop to catch my breath and take a moment in this lovely little cove. Emerging from the dunes we meander down to Pennard Pil, walking up the river to a set of substantial stepping stones – I do love a stepping stone.On the other side we turn left and follow the path up through heathland to the tops of the cliffs – from here we are faced with the wonderful sweep of Oxwich Bay. …….and yet more sand dunes down to the wooden bridge that crosses the inlet – a photo opportunity.
After crossing the bridge we head for the beach. Here, the firm, slightly damp sand is easy to walk on, a relief after the panting and puffing through the dunes. We quickly get into the rhythm of walking, I take great lungfuls of salty air, peace descends and in the distance I can even see signs of tea and cake.
As I drift contentedly on, my eyes come to rest on a boy walking towards me, a small terrier beside him, not on a lead. At the same time two young girls overtake me with an extremely ugly pug face dog trotting along beside them. As I watch, the pug face scuttles over to the terrier and starts the initial chat up, sniffing a little here and there. Suddenly, with a ferocious growl, the pug face launches itself at the terrier’s neck, jaws snapping, locking on, silly little tail snapping back and forth with the velocity of the intended garrotting. I watch appalled as the owner of the terrier tries to snatch up his poor dog and shake off the pug, earning a few nips in the process. Not before time, one of the girls totters over in her high heels and grabs hold off her little darling by the scruff of its neck and thank goodness it’s over. The owner of the victim puts up his hood and slinks away, the dog in his arms. In the strange shocked silence I put in a few words about dogs that should be on leads and owners that can’t control their pets – it falls on deaf ears.
The spell is now broken, Damian and I head hastily for the tea shop.
Heading out of the cafe up into the woods, Damian makes the mistake of looking back over his shoulder……It is here I lose the clip to my camera strap and amazingly find it again – in the piles of leaves!From here the path winds up through woods and out over the cliff tops, down to the sea – we meet no-one.
At one point, the so familiar diversion sign appears, which we dutifully follow into Port Eynon.This is without doubt a popular seaside destination in the summer – in November even the chip shop is closed. But no matter, we have finished the walk fairly early and there are Sunday newspapers to read over a glass of local ale.