‘The time you need to relax is when you don’t have time for it’. 

 Sydney J Harris 

I’d been walking for pleasure since my 30s – I’d come to it late but got the bug and although there is sometimes an inertia with me to get started, I am very quickly converted as I go through the gears. I had managed some decent hill-walking in the Lakes and Snowdonia before alighting on the idea to walk around the coastline of Wales. When Jo (my walking partner and motivator) agreed to the expedition I was thrilled and whilst we didn’t set a timeline our free weekends were filled with planning and adventure. We never thought for a moment it would last a decade and eventually take in Offa’s Dyke to circumnavigate the whole country. 

It’s started off being linear – Chester to Queensferry, for the first leg there was a headwind so strong we couldn’t hold a conversation. 870 miles felt like another planet as we navigated the super straight 6-mile stretch into that wind.  

Subsequent legs fortunately got easier and more interesting. Getting up to Flint Castle (the first exposure the Edward I) made us feel like tourists as we explored it like kids with vigour and intrigue. North Wales threw up some surprises in places – the striking industrial landscapes can be really beautiful (esp on a winter day). The path turns a corner at Point of Ayr, and this brings the Talacre lighthouse into view. One of the 30 or so that we encountered on the path. 

Many of these early legs became doable using the trains – which was wonderful. Looking out at the Irish Sea after those walks was a real pleasure. And this this N Wales section we soaked up the castles, the lighthouses, the seaside, the candyfloss resorts and the off-shore tumbling wind-turbines. The way the train hugs the coast across North Wales is special with lovely views – always with Liverpool Bay and the Irish Sea as an ever-present handrail.

Then we were onto Ynys Mon, this is a 125km spectacular walk all on its own – amazing, varied, breath-taking and always worth the effort. When this was complete, we departed from any sense of a linear walk. Jumping around from South Wales to West Wales as the mood took us. In this non-linear fashion our first port of call was the Gower (a favourite haunt of mine since college days) and of course it didn’t disappoint. From the muddy flats of North Gower rounding the tip of Llangenith to reveal the majesty of Rhossili. The onto my favourites of Port Eynon, Oxwich, Three Cliffs, Caswell and Langland. Stumbling into mumbles and past my alma mater – Swansea University.  

Rude Man in Aberystwyth 

After a particularly wet and strenuous walk to arrive in Aberystwyth we were faced with a no hot water scenario and so the front desk duly sent along someone to fix it. To the question asked by the  maintenance man, 

‘Has anyone touched this thermostat?’, I felt an uncontrollable surge of honesty on fessed up,  to which he responded. 

‘***ing idiot’! 

Once I had recovered from that we quite naturally descended into friendly banter and later his assistant turned up announced as ‘the other chuckle brother’ – never a truer word … 

Tremadog on Carnival Day

It can sometimes be a struggle to get a good meal after a day’s walking, but we were lucky enough to get the last table in the Golden Fleece that day. What we didn’t anticipate was the end of carnival atmosphere – everyone seemed worse for wear, and it was only tea-time. Still, it was wonderful to be fed and watered (or beered!). We escaped the bar (somehow) to ensure we were good to walk the next day! 

Seals

For all of North Wales and Anglesey we were on high-alert and didn’t spot a single seal – that changed in Pembrokeshire – rounding a quiet corner of a secluded cove there were a dozen or so seals nonchalantly bathing in the sun. It was sublime, surreal and it was hard to tear ourselves away to continue on the path. A moment of magic – that’s what this path does… 

End of the Coast 

Leaving a relatively short last leg to finish was always the plan and ending in Solva (whilst not the original idea) was a great option. Such a pretty little bay and with a small welcoming party we had our 15-minute of fame- photos with flags and banners. We also had a great chat with the car -park attendant – the self-proclaimed Elvis Preseli. 

The sense of satisfaction afterwards was enjoyed with hot tea and cawl and Welsh cakes at Mangu’s – can’t recommend this enough. It is one of the absolute joys – arriving in towns and villages with the oasis of a coffee shop. The teas and coffees after a walk have a nectar quality as if ones taste-buds have been super-sensitized. 

Offa (LLywbr Offa) 

We’d actually set off on Offa before finishing the coast – it was almost a comfort to get back to Prestatyn for some familiar territory. And it quickly leads up to the Clwydians which were a familiar stomping ground. 

We were unable to complete much in 2020 as the Covid rules were tightened. It was then a wonderful relief to do a short stretch near the river Alyn. Special too, to have our packed lunch in the churchyard at St Tecla’s. Again, we didn’t do a linear walk but jumped around as the logistics got more complex. The switchbacks through south Shropshire were testing though the scenery was stunning. There were some long walks through the low-lying middle Marches with minimal ascent which was a nice change and as we climbed to the sections that were more challenging it felt like there was always a red kite overhead to guide the way. 

We finished llwybr Offa on the hills above Llanthony Abbey and what a glorious view from the Hatterall ridge. On this occasion we had a welcoming committee of wild ponies who seemed quite unimpressed that we had just completed the whole circumnavigation of Wales! 

All-in-all – stitching it together. 

The Welsh Coastal Path is serene, windswept and breath-taking. However, we can’t overlook the wet days, windy days, blister days, miles through industrial landscapes, numerous sewage farms, but these all fade into insignificance for the good bits. 

Offa is a different beast and brings other joys and challenges. The undulations of the switchbacks, more farmland to contend with, local transport more of an issue. Still, none of this is insurmountable and positives again always outweigh the hard bits. 

There were occasional unhelpful diversions, farm-friendly animals, blazing heat, joint -testing undulations, horizontal rain. All of this just added to the beautiful tableau of the path. 

Of course there were also amazing days, sunny days, sea-thrift swaying days, memorable days, fishing boat bobbing sea days, turning corners to be met with Mediterranean style vistas, such that every mile was a worthwhile endeavour…. 

The most asked question I get is ‘which bit was the best bit?’ It takes deconstructing to get an answer – which has sometimes been the Llyn, Pembrokeshire, the Gower, but in truth my response has become ‘you’re asking the wrong question’. One of the right questions I think is ‘What did you learn?’ 

After 1000 miles it seems too frivolous to pick out a single village or town, beach or cliff top. As for learning, well take your time – savour it, this is a Michelin star country not fast food. Then step off every now and then – a boat trip, a different perspective and, a flight of fancy, a delicious detour. 

Lastly, breathe – slowly and with purpose. Let your senses do their job – live in every moment. In doing so there will be a deeper bond with this country, a hard-wired connection and an appreciation in all things beautiful.