Having found a lovely BnB in Goodwick, we get a ride south to Tregwynt Woollen Mill – the plan being to walk back to Goodwick. The mill is in COVID mode, which means there are no tours of the buildings that house the looms but the door is open for a peek inside. You can also hear the chitter chatter of the machines busily weaving the most gorgeous blankets, clothes and cushions.
There is also a one way system through the shop to the cafe and the marked standing positions for queues make me smile.
After a cup of tea we head down a narrow tarmac lane and then turn off down a footpath through the woods to reach the sweet little beach named Aber Bach. There are a few people out sitting on the pebbles enjoying the morning sun. We turn right heading north on the cliff path. By the time we reach the cliffs at Pwllcrochan (a mile or so), the clouds are massing and it starts to look like rain.
…….but as is so often the case, as soon as I put my wet wear on it clears up. This is so infuriating as it is a struggle to dig into my rucksack, retrieve the waterproofs and then stand on one leg and wobble trying to get the trousers on. Anyway, there are greater challenges in life……
Sometime later the path seems to disappear into a steep pile of rocks but Damian insists he can see a way up, so scrambling it is.
At the top is a cairn and I add a stone, relieved to rest after my exertions up the rocky slope.
From here we get to walk on a wide flat grassy path through gorse and bracken – here’s a photo of me looking quite serious and hungry.
Looking at the map we realise that we still have a long way to go with limited provisions and that the path from now on is not going to provide any tea stops or food shops. Despite this we both need fuel so when the path leads up onto a tarmac road we take advantage of a bench with a view and eke out the sandwiches. On the other side of the road is a memorial stone to a well known (well not to me) local bard who wrote mainly in Welsh. A wiki tells me he won the crown at the National Eisteddfod of Wales in 1926 and in 1929 he won the chair at the National – the first of an unequalled four wins. I remember exciting school trips to the Eisteddfod in Llangollen, particularly the colourful traditional dress worn by some of the dancers and singers.
We walk on……
Round about Trefasser the cliff and rock formations are really spectacular and even the small scattered “islands” all have names Ynys Melin, Ynys y Ddinas, Ynys Ddu, Carreg Ddu. I later look up what “ynys” means in Welsh and guess what – it means island.
The path now is still quite rocky and in places quite steep – another scramble.
And again effort is rewarded by another cairn topped with a dancer/shaman……………………..
We are now getting very tired so it is with relief we start to see the Stumble Head lighthouse in the distance. This is where we turn a corner and start the to head east back to Goodwick.
But from here it is still four or five miles back to our Bnb and it’s very hot…………………….
From here on I don’t really have any extra energy to look around me. All my strength and concentration is geared towards putting one foot in front of the other and not think about how thirsty I am. With one exception when we see a seal ………………..but even this is not enough to raise my spirits.
Eventually we can see Fishguard, Goodwick’s twin town, in the distance, so not far to go now.
……..and the unmistakable 910 metre long breakwater, made from 1.6. million tonnes of rock blasted out of the hillside.
Finally we meet the residential outskirts of Goodwick and hobble down the streets into the town.
As Wales is on partial lockdown the only place serving cold draught beer in Goodwick is “The Shack”, a wooden hut with outside space, on the other side of town and located on a busy main road. Do we care? Do we have the energy to walk there? Hell yes.
Distance: 13 miles