Day 66: Borth to Cardigan (Poppit Sands Hostel) 61miles
I was really looking forward to seeing Aberystwyth and as I set off early from Borth I expected to be there really quickly but that was because, luckily, I didn't realise the hills that were in front of me this morning.
You leave the hostel and cycle a few hundred yards along the straight and totally flat seafront and then you are immediately faced by not one but two 25% hills and that's just after breakfast and before your legs have even started to warm up. Once up those you only have a short easier section before you are faced with a 2 mile climb up through the forest. By the time I got to Aberystwyth for my morning coffee I was knackered. Good bikeshop in the town where I bought a new bottle of chain oil and then went down to the sea front and met Adrian Lloyd who donated to my charity. After Aberystwyth the hills just kept coming and coming-it felt like cycling at home in Cornwall but at least now I was fit as a fiddle.
You leave the hostel and cycle a few hundred yards along the straight and totally flat seafront and then you are immediately faced by not one but two 25% hills and that's just after breakfast and before your legs have even started to warm up. Once up those you only have a short easier section before you are faced with a 2 mile climb up through the forest. By the time I got to Aberystwyth for my morning coffee I was knackered. Good bikeshop in the town where I bought a new bottle of chain oil and then went down to the sea front and met Adrian Lloyd who donated to my charity. After Aberystwyth the hills just kept coming and coming-it felt like cycling at home in Cornwall but at least now I was fit as a fiddle.
Found a cycle path across some fields and lanes but then I had to rejoin the main road which was hilly and not very pleasant.You are faced with miles of main road with no real alternative if you are trying to cycle the coast-all the cycle routes go inland.
Down the road and a nice surprise was the town of Aberaeron. With a very busy main street it didn't look promising but a quick right turn down to the harbour and it's almost as if you are back in Tobermory with a terrace of brightly painted cottages looking over the harbour.
Continued on the main road until I could turn off onto the B4342 to New Quay. I sat up above the village pondering whether to go down to the harbour and eventually I did. One of the first shops I saw was a Cornish Pasty shop. I went in for a chat thinking they must have moved up here from home but in fact it was just a very clever business ploy. The owners had an arrangement with a bakery in Newquay who sent frozen unbaked pasties up to New Quay where they were then cooked fresh. The smell was drawing people in and I couldn't resist joining the queue and having one myself and very nice it was. New Quay reminds me of Port Issac of Doc Martin fame.
Now of coursse the downside of being brave and going down to the harbour was the hill that faced me going out.
Down the road and a nice surprise was the town of Aberaeron. With a very busy main street it didn't look promising but a quick right turn down to the harbour and it's almost as if you are back in Tobermory with a terrace of brightly painted cottages looking over the harbour.
Continued on the main road until I could turn off onto the B4342 to New Quay. I sat up above the village pondering whether to go down to the harbour and eventually I did. One of the first shops I saw was a Cornish Pasty shop. I went in for a chat thinking they must have moved up here from home but in fact it was just a very clever business ploy. The owners had an arrangement with a bakery in Newquay who sent frozen unbaked pasties up to New Quay where they were then cooked fresh. The smell was drawing people in and I couldn't resist joining the queue and having one myself and very nice it was. New Quay reminds me of Port Issac of Doc Martin fame.
Now of coursse the downside of being brave and going down to the harbour was the hill that faced me going out.
Long climb out of New Quay and then a right turn onto the minor lanes through Nanternis, keeping as close to the coast as possible and then down and down to Llangranog. This is a beautiful cove with black rocks and a sandy beach. You could easily be on the north coast of Cornwall and the ice cream was lovely. Lots of families were enjoying the sunshine.
The zig zag hill out on the minor road was brilliant in a painful sort of way, you can tell from the photos how high I'd climbed in a very short distance. In fact the afternoon was to turn out even hillier than the morning. From Llangranog it was down to Penbryn and then up and up -down to Aberporth and then up and up and up. Along little lanes to Y Ferwig and meeting the B4548 at the mouth of the Teifi, past the golfcourse and into Cardigan. Superb cycling but my legs were really feeling it now. The beaches, villages and scenery in this part of Wales are stunning.
Stopped at Somerfield in Cardigan to stock up for tea, told a group of boys off for throwing stones at swans and then set off along the other side of the estuary through St Dogmaels to find Poppit Sands Youth Hostel.
Poppit Sands is a lovely area but of course the hostel isn't down on the beach it's miles above it. The views from the hostel were superb and there was a good mix of folk in tonight including one couple who were going to book the hostel for their wedding later in the year. There was also a couple from Tasmania who caused a bit of uproar early next morning.
The zig zag hill out on the minor road was brilliant in a painful sort of way, you can tell from the photos how high I'd climbed in a very short distance. In fact the afternoon was to turn out even hillier than the morning. From Llangranog it was down to Penbryn and then up and up -down to Aberporth and then up and up and up. Along little lanes to Y Ferwig and meeting the B4548 at the mouth of the Teifi, past the golfcourse and into Cardigan. Superb cycling but my legs were really feeling it now. The beaches, villages and scenery in this part of Wales are stunning.
Stopped at Somerfield in Cardigan to stock up for tea, told a group of boys off for throwing stones at swans and then set off along the other side of the estuary through St Dogmaels to find Poppit Sands Youth Hostel.
Poppit Sands is a lovely area but of course the hostel isn't down on the beach it's miles above it. The views from the hostel were superb and there was a good mix of folk in tonight including one couple who were going to book the hostel for their wedding later in the year. There was also a couple from Tasmania who caused a bit of uproar early next morning.
Day 67: Poppit Sands to Marloes Sands 60 miles
At the hostel there is very limited car parking and all the cars are parked one behind the other. I seemed to be the only one who didn't arrive by car and this was to cause a big problem. The couple from Tasmania needed to leave very early in the morning but of course nothing was organised the night before and their car was right at the wrong end of the line. Well before most people were thinking of getting up they went around all the sleeping rooms banging on the doors to get cars moved. Not knowing who owned which car they had to get everyone up. I thought there was going to be a fight- a very entertaining breakfast as people swore about them after they'd gone.
When it was time to go I assumed I would just carry on up the last bit of the huge hill and be off along the coast but it was not that easy. The hill we were at the top of was a dead end, the hill I needed to get out was parallel to this one but you had to right back down to the beach to get on to it. The day had begun where yesterday's ended and the climbs just kept coming and coming. A 25% hill down to Moylgrove and a 25% hill out the other side and I must admit my legs just wouldn't get going. Had to walk a bit of that one but with the weight of panniers pushing up hills that steep is no picnic and requires a bit of zig zagging
Beautiful scenery again and then down into the lovely village of Newport for coffee. Up a back lane was a bakery, really in no more than a tin hut. They mostly did loaves of bread and a few groceries but the lady offered to cut off some slices of Bara Brith and butter them and wrap for me and I also had an apple and banana- for this feast she charged me £1.
From Newport it was largely main road to Fishguard where I had a very interesting time. On the way in I stopped to visit the old fort. Built in 1780 in response to the threat from pirates and privateers like the American Paul Jones it was armed with eight 9 pounder guns and it seems manned by 3 invalid gunners from Woolwich. During the disastrous French invasion of 1797 a French frigate was fired upon as it tried to enter the harbour. The frigate retreated to save itself, not knowing the 9 cannons only had 3 rounds between them.
When it was time to go I assumed I would just carry on up the last bit of the huge hill and be off along the coast but it was not that easy. The hill we were at the top of was a dead end, the hill I needed to get out was parallel to this one but you had to right back down to the beach to get on to it. The day had begun where yesterday's ended and the climbs just kept coming and coming. A 25% hill down to Moylgrove and a 25% hill out the other side and I must admit my legs just wouldn't get going. Had to walk a bit of that one but with the weight of panniers pushing up hills that steep is no picnic and requires a bit of zig zagging
Beautiful scenery again and then down into the lovely village of Newport for coffee. Up a back lane was a bakery, really in no more than a tin hut. They mostly did loaves of bread and a few groceries but the lady offered to cut off some slices of Bara Brith and butter them and wrap for me and I also had an apple and banana- for this feast she charged me £1.
From Newport it was largely main road to Fishguard where I had a very interesting time. On the way in I stopped to visit the old fort. Built in 1780 in response to the threat from pirates and privateers like the American Paul Jones it was armed with eight 9 pounder guns and it seems manned by 3 invalid gunners from Woolwich. During the disastrous French invasion of 1797 a French frigate was fired upon as it tried to enter the harbour. The frigate retreated to save itself, not knowing the 9 cannons only had 3 rounds between them.
Down at the harbour I found a lovely little cafe for a bacon sandwich and then the nasty hill up to the town. It was horrendously busy with heavy lorries and cars, no cyle lane, really dangerous. I gave up and pushed the bike up the pavement. From the top of the hill got a good view of a ferry entering the harbour.
When I reached the town I went to lock my bike to some railings and saw a tandem and trailor a few yards away. I noticed a sign on it with a Cornish phone number. The sign said that it's owners were on a sponsored cycle for Help for Heroes. I went into a bakery nearby and bought some cakes and then waited for the owners to return. They turned out to be Helen and Frank from Tywardreth. They had left Cornwall on March 3rd and were doing the same as me. I had left in the middle of April and caught them up here in Fishguard. Frank and Helen had a son in the army in Afganhistan, which is of course why they were collecting for Help for Heroes. To add to their adventure they had stopped in Gretna to get married. They had spent much of their trip wild camping and drinking copious amounts of whiskey. I was due home in the middle of July, they were not due back until the middle of August. Have not heard about them since so I wonder how they got on? If you've heard please let me know.
When I reached the town I went to lock my bike to some railings and saw a tandem and trailor a few yards away. I noticed a sign on it with a Cornish phone number. The sign said that it's owners were on a sponsored cycle for Help for Heroes. I went into a bakery nearby and bought some cakes and then waited for the owners to return. They turned out to be Helen and Frank from Tywardreth. They had left Cornwall on March 3rd and were doing the same as me. I had left in the middle of April and caught them up here in Fishguard. Frank and Helen had a son in the army in Afganhistan, which is of course why they were collecting for Help for Heroes. To add to their adventure they had stopped in Gretna to get married. They had spent much of their trip wild camping and drinking copious amounts of whiskey. I was due home in the middle of July, they were not due back until the middle of August. Have not heard about them since so I wonder how they got on? If you've heard please let me know.
I had waited over an hour to meet Helen and Frank so I was running a bit behind schedule as I left Fishguard. I had planned to go out to Strumble Head but by-passed it and set off down the main road until I got to Square and Compass where I turned right out onto the coast again and of course plenty more hills. Through the lovely Trefin and then yet again I was sidetracked. I came round a corner and there was Pembrokeshire Sheepdogs and would you know it a display had just started. I couldn't resist and the nice girl on the gate let me in to take some photos. In the end I watched the whole display and the homemade cakes for sale afterwards were delicious. One of the old dogs called Steve was the splitting image of our rescue sheepdog. Really well worth a visit if you are in the area.
Running even later now as I set off down the back lanes to St Davids. It's one of those places I'd heard about so often but had never visited. Really wish I was staying here tonight so that I could have had time to relax and look around. The pubs looked really inviting and if I knew what I was about to face could well have changed my mind. The Cathedral is beautiful and strange to see in such a small place, will certainly go back and stay one day.
Left St Davids on the main road and for a few miles it was hilly but only moderately so but this changed with the long downhill to Newgale and the superb beach. The next 10 miles were at the same time really stunning and really painful.
The section of coast I was about to cycle along is punctuated by a series of Havens- Norton Haven, Broad Haven and Little Haven. Each of them was approached by a very steep downhill and left by an equally steep uphill. The downhills were tiring enough and the uphills strained every muscle. They just seemed to keep coming and coming. To make matters worse we had a downpour that stuck my clothes to my skin. Again, it was exactly the same as the coast roads of North Cornwall, high hedges full of flowers and a real roller coaster of a cycle..
The beach at Broad Haven was lovely and there was a good shop to stock up for tea. One last huge climb and then it got a little easier on the country lanes to Marloes. Went to the shop for a couple of bottles of beer and it had shut 10 minutes ago and in the morning on a return visit found they had a good stock of real ales-what a shame.
The hostel is at the end of a long lane very near Marloes Sands and is made up of a series of converted farm buildings- I was in the "Cowshed" The farmhouse is part of the complex and is where they seem to put the family groups. Nice place to stay and boy was I tired- too tired to go back the mile or so to the pub and that didn't happen very often. Today was only 60miles but felt like double and the last few days were really telling. Looked at my maps and decided on a shorter day tomorrow- didn't want to kill myself on the last lap.
Left St Davids on the main road and for a few miles it was hilly but only moderately so but this changed with the long downhill to Newgale and the superb beach. The next 10 miles were at the same time really stunning and really painful.
The section of coast I was about to cycle along is punctuated by a series of Havens- Norton Haven, Broad Haven and Little Haven. Each of them was approached by a very steep downhill and left by an equally steep uphill. The downhills were tiring enough and the uphills strained every muscle. They just seemed to keep coming and coming. To make matters worse we had a downpour that stuck my clothes to my skin. Again, it was exactly the same as the coast roads of North Cornwall, high hedges full of flowers and a real roller coaster of a cycle..
The beach at Broad Haven was lovely and there was a good shop to stock up for tea. One last huge climb and then it got a little easier on the country lanes to Marloes. Went to the shop for a couple of bottles of beer and it had shut 10 minutes ago and in the morning on a return visit found they had a good stock of real ales-what a shame.
The hostel is at the end of a long lane very near Marloes Sands and is made up of a series of converted farm buildings- I was in the "Cowshed" The farmhouse is part of the complex and is where they seem to put the family groups. Nice place to stay and boy was I tired- too tired to go back the mile or so to the pub and that didn't happen very often. Today was only 60miles but felt like double and the last few days were really telling. Looked at my maps and decided on a shorter day tomorrow- didn't want to kill myself on the last lap.
Day 68: Marloes to Manorbier 43 miles
I'd really got used to staying in hostels now and in fact much prefered it, especially as I was meeting some really interesting people. One lady staying at Marloes had come to fulfill a lifetime ambition of sitting, with puffins walking around her. West of Marloes is Skomer Island and boats from Martin's Haven make daily trips in the summer to see the puffins. Today was the day that my fellow guest was to finally achieve her ambition. Unfortunately while we were all chatting over breakfast the warden came to inform her that he had just had a call to say there was too much swell to land on Skomer.The poor lady was distraught. Later in the village post office I relayed this message to another lady who was talking about going on the same trip. "Thank goodness for that," she said,"I've been dreaming all night that the boat was going to capsize and we were all going to drown." So one lady crying and one smiling.
The official youth hostels run a book ahead system and having decided on a shorter day the warden booked me a bed at Manorbier Hostel, between Pembroke and Tenby. Left Marloes Hostel and went up to the village to post stuff back home including the latest 200 photos. Alison and I kept liaising and she would send blank memory cards ahead to hostels and I would send full ones home.
As I passed the parcel over the counter the lady looked at the address and said "I was born in Penzance." Turned out we used to live within a short distance of each other- small world.
Next it was out to Martin's Haven and walk out to the coastguard hut to take photos of Skomer and Skokholm Islands. Beautiful stretch of coastline with lots of ships anchored in St Brides Bay presumably waiting to go into Milford and Pembroke.
The official youth hostels run a book ahead system and having decided on a shorter day the warden booked me a bed at Manorbier Hostel, between Pembroke and Tenby. Left Marloes Hostel and went up to the village to post stuff back home including the latest 200 photos. Alison and I kept liaising and she would send blank memory cards ahead to hostels and I would send full ones home.
As I passed the parcel over the counter the lady looked at the address and said "I was born in Penzance." Turned out we used to live within a short distance of each other- small world.
Next it was out to Martin's Haven and walk out to the coastguard hut to take photos of Skomer and Skokholm Islands. Beautiful stretch of coastline with lots of ships anchored in St Brides Bay presumably waiting to go into Milford and Pembroke.
Back once more through Marloes and then east to St Ishmael's before follow some beautiful lanes around Sandy Haven and on into Milford. A good dockside cafe for a break and then up into the town. Milford reminded me of a mini San Francisco with dead straight but roller coaster roads heading down to the water. A similarity to Falmouth and the Carrick Roads with huge oil tankers in surrounded by trees and countryside. A small promenade area with a profusion of war memorials remebering heroic events from the second world war such as D Day and the attack on Tarantino.
Up until this point I had been feeling fine but as I left Milford and completed a very hilly section to the toll bridge into Pembroke I started to feel quite ill. The last few days had been very hot and extremely hilly and I think my body was just reminding me that I was not a youngster anymore. I had been on the road for over 10 weeks altogether now and it was time to take things abit easy for a couple of days. The first thing I did was to lock the bike up outside the library in Pembroke and have a stroll around the town. Early in the morning this must be a lovely town but in the middle of the day the main street was full of traffic- what a shame there's nowhere for a by-pass.
Up until this point I had been feeling fine but as I left Milford and completed a very hilly section to the toll bridge into Pembroke I started to feel quite ill. The last few days had been very hot and extremely hilly and I think my body was just reminding me that I was not a youngster anymore. I had been on the road for over 10 weeks altogether now and it was time to take things abit easy for a couple of days. The first thing I did was to lock the bike up outside the library in Pembroke and have a stroll around the town. Early in the morning this must be a lovely town but in the middle of the day the main street was full of traffic- what a shame there's nowhere for a by-pass.
Still very hot as I left Pembroke and a busy steep hill to get out of the town. By the time I got to the top I was feeling ill again and so I stopped in a park and sat in the shade to study the map. My plan had been to cycle out to Angle before turning to go back along the south coast towards Manorbier. I took the decision now to go straight down the A4139 rather than risk doing anymore damage. Once off the main road the lanes are really quiet and scenic with hedges full of flowers.
Ended up down on Manorbier beach which was a beautiful place with a Norman castle in the sandunes at the back of it. Quite popular today with lots of families enjoying the sunshine and the views. I parked the bike and had a sit down for a while before going back up to the cafe in the village.It had just been taken over by a local family who also seemed to run the large village stores. As always the youth hostel was up the hill but although long enough not as bad as many I'd cycled.
The hostel itself is a strange looking place and looks like something from a James Bond film or perhaps a moonbase. The facilities inside were good but like a lot of hostels the existence of a good washing line and some pegs would make all the difference. In fact I got told off for hanging my washing on a line belonging to one of the staff-it was 10yds long and mine was the only washing on it. So it was back to using stones to hang it from the windowsill of my room.
Ended up down on Manorbier beach which was a beautiful place with a Norman castle in the sandunes at the back of it. Quite popular today with lots of families enjoying the sunshine and the views. I parked the bike and had a sit down for a while before going back up to the cafe in the village.It had just been taken over by a local family who also seemed to run the large village stores. As always the youth hostel was up the hill but although long enough not as bad as many I'd cycled.
The hostel itself is a strange looking place and looks like something from a James Bond film or perhaps a moonbase. The facilities inside were good but like a lot of hostels the existence of a good washing line and some pegs would make all the difference. In fact I got told off for hanging my washing on a line belonging to one of the staff-it was 10yds long and mine was the only washing on it. So it was back to using stones to hang it from the windowsill of my room.
Day 69: Manorbier to Llansteffan 42 miles
Another look at the map and another change of plan to rest my complaining body. Found an independent hostel in Llansteffan that had vacancies tonight and this turned out to have "Wild and Sexy" consequencies.
Some good company at Manorbier Hostel and as everyone was up early in my room so was I and in fact I was in Tenby before 9a.m. and what a lovely place this is. Never been here before-in fact I haven't been anywhere very much- and another place to be revisited in the future. As I was in no hurry today I locked up the bike and had a good walk around.
The town still has great chunks of the old town wall and gates and is set up on a hill above the harbour. Found an indoor market with a good cafe for a bacon sandwich. There was also a fishing tackle dealer in there so I had something to chat about. Sent another parcel home with postcards and brochures I'd collected over the last few days and felt really relaxed and well today.
As I left Tenby I came to a cycle route to Saundersfoot I'd been told about in the market. It began with a steep wooded hill and as I started up it there in front of me were two German cyclists, who later turned out to be Belgians, who saw me coming and a kind of speed hill climb developed. All thoughts of illness were swept aside as 4000miles of cycling paid dividends as I upheld the glory of Britain and left them panting and blowing in my wake. We were to meet again, in fact, several times.
Some good company at Manorbier Hostel and as everyone was up early in my room so was I and in fact I was in Tenby before 9a.m. and what a lovely place this is. Never been here before-in fact I haven't been anywhere very much- and another place to be revisited in the future. As I was in no hurry today I locked up the bike and had a good walk around.
The town still has great chunks of the old town wall and gates and is set up on a hill above the harbour. Found an indoor market with a good cafe for a bacon sandwich. There was also a fishing tackle dealer in there so I had something to chat about. Sent another parcel home with postcards and brochures I'd collected over the last few days and felt really relaxed and well today.
As I left Tenby I came to a cycle route to Saundersfoot I'd been told about in the market. It began with a steep wooded hill and as I started up it there in front of me were two German cyclists, who later turned out to be Belgians, who saw me coming and a kind of speed hill climb developed. All thoughts of illness were swept aside as 4000miles of cycling paid dividends as I upheld the glory of Britain and left them panting and blowing in my wake. We were to meet again, in fact, several times.
Saundersfoot was very busy but you could escape and cycle along the seafront and there I found a very helpful Tourist Information Office. They guided me onto yet another traffic free cycle path that took me along the coast to Amroth via two tunnels. This was a beautiful but later hilly section that eventually down a very long 20% descent to Pendine.This is one small part of National Cycle Route 4- a Sustrans route that goes all the way from London to St Davids in West Wales. As part of my trip I cycled a lot of these Sustrans routes and would advise anyone to obtain Sustrans maps before any long distance tours.
In Saudersfoot I had one of those embarrassing moments. While cheerfully saying goodbye and bathing in the glory of telling people about my heroic exploits I missed the pedal on remounting and ended up in a heap on top of my bike. Last week I saw Victoria Pendleton fall off hers in the World Championships so I don't feel so bad now.
My two German adversaries went past here while I was chatting-I'd get them again later!
Pendine was the sight of many early attempts to beat various landspeed records and just above the beach is the small but interesting Museum of Speed. The exhibits include early motorbikes and Babs.
Babs was the name given to his record breaking car by John Parry-Thomas who in 1926 took the record to 170mph on Pendine Sands. In January 1927 he again raised it to 174.8mph but in March 1927 he crashed the car on another attempt. He was killed-apparently decapitated when the car rolled- and buried in Surrey and Babs was buried at Pendine. She remained buried until 1969 when she was excavated and restored and now is the centerpiece of the museum. Well worth a visit. They wouldn't let me take a photo by the way.
In Saudersfoot I had one of those embarrassing moments. While cheerfully saying goodbye and bathing in the glory of telling people about my heroic exploits I missed the pedal on remounting and ended up in a heap on top of my bike. Last week I saw Victoria Pendleton fall off hers in the World Championships so I don't feel so bad now.
My two German adversaries went past here while I was chatting-I'd get them again later!
Pendine was the sight of many early attempts to beat various landspeed records and just above the beach is the small but interesting Museum of Speed. The exhibits include early motorbikes and Babs.
Babs was the name given to his record breaking car by John Parry-Thomas who in 1926 took the record to 170mph on Pendine Sands. In January 1927 he again raised it to 174.8mph but in March 1927 he crashed the car on another attempt. He was killed-apparently decapitated when the car rolled- and buried in Surrey and Babs was buried at Pendine. She remained buried until 1969 when she was excavated and restored and now is the centerpiece of the museum. Well worth a visit. They wouldn't let me take a photo by the way.
After double egg and chips I set off along the A4066 to Laugharne, which luckilly for me meant not going back up the hill as I'd expected. The road wasn't exactly flat but certainly easier and it led me to the beautiful Laugharne, with it's castle and river. There were a lot of people wandering along the estuary of the River Taff and then a sign told me that the path led to the Dylan Thomas Boathouse and there sitting on a bench were my two German friends who after a chat explained that they were actually Belgian and very friendly they were. This still wasn't our last meeting. Anyway back to Laugharne which was really stunning and yet another of the dozens of places I must return to. Interestingly Laugharne is the centre of an area where Welsh is not the main language largely due to an influx of Flemish weavers in the 12th century.
Back on the bike and a hilly section up the A 4066 to St Clears. Went into Barclays Bank for some cash and met a really friendly group of staff and then into the newly opened Welsh Craft Centre and cafe. Lovely town but yet another blighted by such heavy through traffic as roads seemed to come from all directions.
Back on the bike and a hilly section up the A 4066 to St Clears. Went into Barclays Bank for some cash and met a really friendly group of staff and then into the newly opened Welsh Craft Centre and cafe. Lovely town but yet another blighted by such heavy through traffic as roads seemed to come from all directions.
The bank staff told me how to get out of town on a cycle path alongside and then parallel with the busy A40. After a few miles I was able to turn right onto a myriad of lanes on which it took an age to cover the six or so miles to Llansteffan. There was hill after hill and twice I was chased by dogs as I past farms. The hedgerows were beautiful and the view across the River Towy to Ferryside was stunning.
The village shop in Llansteffan had aquired new local owners this week and they already had some good homemade meals for sale. I wasn't sure what to buy as I didn't know much about the hostel which was a couple of miles further up the road on the B4312. With good judgement I didn't buy anything fresh as later I found the owner of the hostel cooked interesting evening meals.
The village shop in Llansteffan had aquired new local owners this week and they already had some good homemade meals for sale. I wasn't sure what to buy as I didn't know much about the hostel which was a couple of miles further up the road on the B4312. With good judgement I didn't buy anything fresh as later I found the owner of the hostel cooked interesting evening meals.
Up a final steep hill and I was at the hostel and this certainly was one of the more interesting places I stayed on my trip- and the one with the longest name.I would certainly recommend staying here if you cycling this way.
The hostel belongs to Ken Knuckles a really interesting man who seems to have settled here after many years travelling the globe. He spent a lot of time in Mexico hence the Mexican theme which continued in the menu that Ken cooks himself. I had the curry made with Welsh black beef and lovely it was.
Ken had put me out in a chalet on my own because of the other guests he was expecting. Later a coach pulled in full of students from all parts of the world coming to the end of whistlestop round Britain tour. They were lining up a final night celebration which I had the privilege of watching unfold before I left them to it at midnight. There is a well stocked bar and one of the specialities is Taquila which the students downed eagerly. It was fun to see and it's great to sit back and watch now that I'm older and wiser. It's easy to turn down the thrills of group dancing when you are a bit more mature. www.backpackershostelwales.co.uk
The hostel belongs to Ken Knuckles a really interesting man who seems to have settled here after many years travelling the globe. He spent a lot of time in Mexico hence the Mexican theme which continued in the menu that Ken cooks himself. I had the curry made with Welsh black beef and lovely it was.
Ken had put me out in a chalet on my own because of the other guests he was expecting. Later a coach pulled in full of students from all parts of the world coming to the end of whistlestop round Britain tour. They were lining up a final night celebration which I had the privilege of watching unfold before I left them to it at midnight. There is a well stocked bar and one of the specialities is Taquila which the students downed eagerly. It was fun to see and it's great to sit back and watch now that I'm older and wiser. It's easy to turn down the thrills of group dancing when you are a bit more mature. www.backpackershostelwales.co.uk
Day 70: Llansteffan to Swansea 66 miles
For the princely sum of £14 Ken also provided a free breakfast-evening meal extra of course. He told me food would be laid out for the students so just go and help myself. I was first down and it was so amusing to watch them come in a few at a time. Their eyes were mostly only half open and they ate in total silence. The coach was leaving early to get them back to London, bet most of them missed the rest of South Wales.Ken didn't get up after his late night and I've got a feeling he has a few of those.
I was feeling relaxed and happy and also quite well again. Today was going to be a bit different as I left the coast for the first half of the day to pay a visit to The Many Tears Animal Rescue Centre north east of Carmarthen.
Left early and was in Carmarthen by 9am. My memeories of the town include the number of famous local people statues that seemed to be on every corner. A market was happenning outside M&S and it was here that I was stopped by a local man who recognised my Audax shirt as he rides some of these himself. He gave me instructions on a rural route to the Botanic Gardens of wales as I knew the Many Tears Rescue Centre was near there.
It all started alright as I rode along the B4300 and then turning off to the right, cycling along a few more wooded lanes and there was the garden. Garden not open yet so set off a minor road which I thought would bring me at any time to the centre. Asked several people who had never heard of it. Went up hill after hill and down hill after hill, lovely little lanes and valleys and then after miles there it was-The Botanic Gardens of Wales, exactly back where I'd started. At least now the gardens were open and so in I went. Found the cafe, not open yet, asked a member of staff for directions, no idea. Gave up and went out amd tried another lane and to cut a long story short heard barking in the distance and I was there at last.
Many Tears Rescue is a lovely place with many people working hard to rescue dogs mostly, from pounds, farms and a lot from Eire where there is a real dog welfare problem. If you love dogs look at this website. www.freewebs.com/manytearsrescue Full of beautiful animals for adoption and some lovely stories of Happy Endings.
I was feeling relaxed and happy and also quite well again. Today was going to be a bit different as I left the coast for the first half of the day to pay a visit to The Many Tears Animal Rescue Centre north east of Carmarthen.
Left early and was in Carmarthen by 9am. My memeories of the town include the number of famous local people statues that seemed to be on every corner. A market was happenning outside M&S and it was here that I was stopped by a local man who recognised my Audax shirt as he rides some of these himself. He gave me instructions on a rural route to the Botanic Gardens of wales as I knew the Many Tears Rescue Centre was near there.
It all started alright as I rode along the B4300 and then turning off to the right, cycling along a few more wooded lanes and there was the garden. Garden not open yet so set off a minor road which I thought would bring me at any time to the centre. Asked several people who had never heard of it. Went up hill after hill and down hill after hill, lovely little lanes and valleys and then after miles there it was-The Botanic Gardens of Wales, exactly back where I'd started. At least now the gardens were open and so in I went. Found the cafe, not open yet, asked a member of staff for directions, no idea. Gave up and went out amd tried another lane and to cut a long story short heard barking in the distance and I was there at last.
Many Tears Rescue is a lovely place with many people working hard to rescue dogs mostly, from pounds, farms and a lot from Eire where there is a real dog welfare problem. If you love dogs look at this website. www.freewebs.com/manytearsrescue Full of beautiful animals for adoption and some lovely stories of Happy Endings.
After being given a tour of the kennels and passing all those sad faces it was time to get going again but not before meeting a couple who had driven up from Plymouth that morning to collect a dog. They'd be home for tea I had at least a week to go yet.
Listened more carefully to instructions and after half an hour found myself in Cross Hands where I stopped at a bakery for a cup of tea, a roll and a couple of doughnuts. This was a lucky stop as someone in there knew about a cycleway all the way to Llanelli and it really was brilliant. It's based on one of the old coal railways and it was literally a gentle downhill for about 10miles all the way to the seafront at Llanelli. Stopped on route to talk to an ex-miner who told me all about the past and then a quick stop at Strady Park- one of the most famous rugby grounds in the world and now an overgrown, rusting wreck. The seafront at Llanelli is superb-The Millenium Park- with a cycle way all along it and lovely sculptures with information boards showing what this area would have looked like in the steel and chemical works days. A local cyclist rode with me for a while and even gave me a donation for my charity. There is also a visitors centre with a cafe upstairs with views over the bay. It was here that I had my one final meeting with my Belgian cycling friends, we literally walked into each other as I was going into the centre and they were coming out.
As you leave Llanelli you cycle across the Wetlands and Wildfowl Trust Reserve, totally flat and a beautiful open space. Eventually at the other end you come to the bridge that takes you over the river and onto the Gower. It had been a strange but really interesting day so far. I was tired but when you're in the mood you don't notice how many hills you have gone up.
Listened more carefully to instructions and after half an hour found myself in Cross Hands where I stopped at a bakery for a cup of tea, a roll and a couple of doughnuts. This was a lucky stop as someone in there knew about a cycleway all the way to Llanelli and it really was brilliant. It's based on one of the old coal railways and it was literally a gentle downhill for about 10miles all the way to the seafront at Llanelli. Stopped on route to talk to an ex-miner who told me all about the past and then a quick stop at Strady Park- one of the most famous rugby grounds in the world and now an overgrown, rusting wreck. The seafront at Llanelli is superb-The Millenium Park- with a cycle way all along it and lovely sculptures with information boards showing what this area would have looked like in the steel and chemical works days. A local cyclist rode with me for a while and even gave me a donation for my charity. There is also a visitors centre with a cafe upstairs with views over the bay. It was here that I had my one final meeting with my Belgian cycling friends, we literally walked into each other as I was going into the centre and they were coming out.
As you leave Llanelli you cycle across the Wetlands and Wildfowl Trust Reserve, totally flat and a beautiful open space. Eventually at the other end you come to the bridge that takes you over the river and onto the Gower. It had been a strange but really interesting day so far. I was tired but when you're in the mood you don't notice how many hills you have gone up.
Once over the bridge I had intended to go out Rhossili but all the hostels were full on the Gower, presumably with surfers and schools on activity weeks. Alison had found me accomodation in Swansea and as July went on it was getting harder now to find somewhere to stay. Just over the blue bridge I was lucky again to pick up a traffic free cyclepath through a wooded area that , to my surprise, brought me out right on the seafront near Mumbles. The other surprise was that cycling in to Swansea the seafront was lined with army tanks and vehicles and overhead were all sorts of aircraft practising for tomorrow's air display. The seafront at Swansea is a very busy road which is a shame as it detracts from the beautiful views.My B&B was right on the front just around the corner from the cricket and soccer ground. There are B&Bs all along the road and I can't remember the name of the one I stayed in but they were all very similar.
It was only a few yards down the road to a busy but cheap foody pub and then I had a quick walk around to a supermarket for real milk and my late night snacks, didn't fancy a trip into the town centre on a Friday night.
It was only a few yards down the road to a busy but cheap foody pub and then I had a quick walk around to a supermarket for real milk and my late night snacks, didn't fancy a trip into the town centre on a Friday night.
Day 71: Swansea to Penarth 72 miles
Woke up to heavy drizzle and tanks going past my window, unfortunately looks like the airshow might be off. Thought about staying two nights to enjoy the show but I'm too close to finishing now and really want to get home.
Cycled through the docks area of Swansea but of course it's all yachts and flats noe with swing bridges to let the boats in and out.
Alongside the main road to Port Talbot and here the first bit of luck for the day. The beach was packed despite the rain as The Welsh Nipper Life Saving Championships were taking place. There was a large refreshments tent that I was invited into to dry off a bit and while I was there couldn't resist a bacon sandwich, followed by a piece of chocolate cake. Like my mother used to say "You must have hollow legs."
Cycled through the docks area of Swansea but of course it's all yachts and flats noe with swing bridges to let the boats in and out.
Alongside the main road to Port Talbot and here the first bit of luck for the day. The beach was packed despite the rain as The Welsh Nipper Life Saving Championships were taking place. There was a large refreshments tent that I was invited into to dry off a bit and while I was there couldn't resist a bacon sandwich, followed by a piece of chocolate cake. Like my mother used to say "You must have hollow legs."
From Port Talbot to Porthcawl it's not possible to stick close to the sea. Various cycle signs lead you inland and you cycle next to the A48 and M4 for a while but then I was led inland and got totally lost up on the moors. I thought about turning back but in the end just kept going and ended up cyling through bracken and mud. Looking at the map later I assume I was in Margam Park and up on a hill called Moel-Ton-Mawr. Eventually I came to a lane and just headed downhill and came to the village of Pyle. From here it was a quick dash down to Porthcawl-the Skegness of South Wales. The seafront was lined with amusement arcades and fairground rides. Better was just around the corner as the cycle path took me along the beach and then into the lovely village of Newton St Marys and what luck, it was village fete day. The green was covered with stalls and games and best of all the church hall was serving the most fantastic refreshments. Just to cap it all the rain stopped and the sun came out. Chatted to some lovely people while I ate and was refreshed ready to start again. The only downside was that there was lovely looking village pub and lots of people were standing outside enjoying real ale but I forced myself to leave eventually.
You have no alternative now but to follow the A4106 and then A48 for a while and there are a number of hills to climb and typical Britain I was soaked in the morning and now I was sweating pints. After a few miles of busy traffic I was able to turn south to Ogmore-by-Sea with it's estuary, golden beach and lovely views back to Porthcawl-a direct cycleway across the river would be brilliant.
From Ogmore it was a myriad of quiet lanes towards Llantwit Major through the lovely villages of Monknash, Marcross and St Donats. It was on this section taht as I descended a hill strange noises started eminating from my rear-the rear of the bike that is. On closer inspection I had no rear brake blocks left, just bare metal. It was the middle of Saturday afternoon and I really couldn't see me resolving this problem now until Monday in England, so it was going to need a bit of care just using the front brake for the rest of today and all Sunday.
An hour later,having told the wife about my problem. I cycled into the village of Llantwit Major and couldn't believe my eyes when there in front of me was a cyle shop and what a great find this turned out to be.
Forza Cycles is run by Neil Craig, a well known local racer and he couldn't have been more helpful. Not only did he fix my brakes he also removed several layers of gunge from my gears and as he said "The bike will be a lot lighter now." On top of all that he is reputed to be the best coffee maker in Wales and he stopped mid servive to make me a lovely cup of his best brew. Thank you Neil. www.forzacycles.co.uk
From Ogmore it was a myriad of quiet lanes towards Llantwit Major through the lovely villages of Monknash, Marcross and St Donats. It was on this section taht as I descended a hill strange noises started eminating from my rear-the rear of the bike that is. On closer inspection I had no rear brake blocks left, just bare metal. It was the middle of Saturday afternoon and I really couldn't see me resolving this problem now until Monday in England, so it was going to need a bit of care just using the front brake for the rest of today and all Sunday.
An hour later,having told the wife about my problem. I cycled into the village of Llantwit Major and couldn't believe my eyes when there in front of me was a cyle shop and what a great find this turned out to be.
Forza Cycles is run by Neil Craig, a well known local racer and he couldn't have been more helpful. Not only did he fix my brakes he also removed several layers of gunge from my gears and as he said "The bike will be a lot lighter now." On top of all that he is reputed to be the best coffee maker in Wales and he stopped mid servive to make me a lovely cup of his best brew. Thank you Neil. www.forzacycles.co.uk
It would have been really great to have stayed in Llantwit after my stop. I was tired, my legs had cooled down and the rain had returned. The village was very inviting but Alison had found me a B&B in Penarth and tomorrow was a long enough day already so I didn't want to make it any longer.Over the next half hour it got heavier and heavier and for the rest of the journey to Penarth it became absolutely torrential. Cycling along the B4265, past Cardiff Airport and down into Barry became a bit of a chore and to make matters worse having got near Penarth on the main A4055 I turned right as instructed to find my B&B and ended up going downhill for miles on the B4267 and more or less ended up in Barry for the second time. Having done that I found that the B&B was at the top of the long hill I had zoomed down and so I had to climb up it, twice as hard in wet weather gear.
I found the B&B in a leafy street near Penarth town centre and was a bit worried as I was absolutely dripping. When the man answered the door I was ready to apologise and offer to take everything off in a shed or something but before I could speak he just walked straight off saying "follow me." I squelched after him and he led me to a room handed me the key and walked off and there I was left, soaking his carpets. There was no heating on so I had a shower, rolled things up in towels and did the best I could to hang things up but by morning everything was still wet but an hour cycling in the sun was to do the trick. The bike had to spend the night out in the rain, poor thing.
The good news was that the rain eased as I ran into town and there was a Weatherspoons yet again so all's well that ends well. The harder the day the better the beer tastes.
Back into England tomorrow.
I found the B&B in a leafy street near Penarth town centre and was a bit worried as I was absolutely dripping. When the man answered the door I was ready to apologise and offer to take everything off in a shed or something but before I could speak he just walked straight off saying "follow me." I squelched after him and he led me to a room handed me the key and walked off and there I was left, soaking his carpets. There was no heating on so I had a shower, rolled things up in towels and did the best I could to hang things up but by morning everything was still wet but an hour cycling in the sun was to do the trick. The bike had to spend the night out in the rain, poor thing.
The good news was that the rain eased as I ran into town and there was a Weatherspoons yet again so all's well that ends well. The harder the day the better the beer tastes.
Back into England tomorrow.