Category: 2017 Pembrokeshire Coastal Path — Wales, UK

There seemed to be a road rally across the inlet from where we camped. There was screeching of tires and donuts (we observed spinnning tail lights). Other than that, we had a peaceful night’s rest.

We awoke to George’s quiet groans of exiting his tent. Sometimes I wonder if he’s not pulling the old trick my grandpa used to do, make as much noise as possible while feigning being quiet. We attempted breakfast on our alcohol stove. Normally, we use “Heet” gas additive, but we couldn’t find any in Bath, so we settled on purple camping alcohol sold here. This alcohol doesn’t light as easy or burn as hot. It took twice the amount of time and fuel to get the water hot enough to use (not boil). After a rocky start to the day, we finally pushed on around 9:30 (still not too bad for Bunny T and me).

While we were packing up, a local man walked through camp with his dog. We talked for quite a while with him. His only trip to the states was 30 years ago when he was a 29 year old rugby player. He said he had a wonderful time in the USA and wanted to return the favor. He offered to slack pack for us today (carry our packs down the trail so we could walk faster without the weight). We considered a bit, but decided against cause we never know where we’re going to be until after dark (at least it’s starting out that way). In the end, he gave us some bananas and protein bars. He was very generous to us (as all people have been except for the Lydstep Beach Village–DO NOT GO THERE!

We were feeling good enough to take a few side trips down to the beach after dropping our packs with the Pack Man George. (We can’t decide on a trail name for George, but have narrowed it down to Pack Man, Amazon, or AW for Amazon Withdrawal).

We got into Manorbier around lunch time where we wanted to tour the castle after grabbing a bite of lunch and doing a little grocery shopping.

After lunch, we decided to storm the castle from the rear since we passed it on the way into town. Unfortunately, George forgot the toilet paper so we got wiped out.

Monorbier Castle is the birthplace of Gerald of Wales who was a prodigious writer in the 12th century. The castle has complete walls and two towers still standing. The gentleman we met this morning in camp had reserved the castle last September for his daughter’s wedding.

Tour a nearly complete medieval castle and try not to pretend fighting battles in parapets. The castle had a moat, draw bridge, and retractable gate. While we were in the castle, it started raining, so we opted for another spot of tea to kill some time and allow the rain to pass.

The mist let up, but didn’t stop, so we donned a portion of our rain gear and headed on out with the intention of stopping in Freshwater East at a pub for another meal. Our hiker appetites haven’t kicked in yet, but how could you tell when our normal appetites have been huge ever since our cruise in early December.

Walking out of Manorbier, I had time to make a few observations about our hiking order and the correlation to our last meals. If someone ate curry (usually Karen or me), we would fight to be last in line to be able to guiltlessly fart. George usually ends up back there a lot because, apparently, consuming water gives him gas. Pam doesn’t fart. At least she doesn’t during the day around other people. She saves her gas for the tent as a sign of her trust in me of never telling anyone how much she farts or how bad they stink–oops!

By the time we stopped at another beach, climbed up and down several ridges, and covered the 4 miles into Freshwater East; we were hurting a bit (this is our 3rd day of hiking–tomorrow will be worse). We headed into the pub, ordered supper, took off our shoes to get more room around us, and seized up like 80 year old cast iron machinery. George thought he qualified to use the handicap restroom. In all fairness, he looked like he qualified to use the morgue dressing table.

George did meet a man in the restroom (on the way back actually, no sword crossings). Ian gave us his card and said we looked pretty pathetic. If we needed a comfortable place to stay, he’s fix us up. We went to the local campground after we got done and it was more of a caravan park. They generally don’t give discounts to backpacking tents. I voted to call Ian if we had to overpay. I’m (we all are) very glad we did.

Ian set us up in a 2 story flat with a shower, kitchen, and beds. It’s only been 2 nights out, but we can already appreciate the comforts of civilization and appreciate them even more. We got in, had some pack explosions, showered, and went to bed. No snoring was heard last night (we had bed rooms!).

It was past 10:30 by the time we crawled into our tents. We were all exhausted from the beers, the long day, the late start, and getting lost. This was one of those rare nights for me–I didn’t get up once to pee (and this is with us sleeping right next to a stream!).

We woke up (at least Pam and I did) to locals walking their dogs through the woods on their way down to the ocean below our campsite. No one seemed too surprised to see us there. We talked to a few people and they admitted that “wild camping” didn’t appeal to them.

In the interest of saving time, we agreed to skip cooking this morning and to just head into Tenby for breakfast. Karen wasn’t to keen on the idea of skipping her morning coffee so she dug out her jet boil only to discover that her soap had spilled inside of it and she didn’t have enough water to wash the pot and have coffee. The coffee clock was ticking.

The terrain between Saundersfoot and Tenby has a lot of ups and downs packed into a 4 mile section of coast. This is just like the Grand Canyon; every view is spectacular. When you are walking along a cliff top, you can’t see the formations below you until you are past and look back.

Just before Tenby there is a public garden called “Allen’s View” which is on a point with vistas of Saundersfoot behind us and Tenby in front. Allen had good taste in sitting places.

Once we got in town, we asked people for suggestions for a breakfast/lunch spot. The guidebooks give travel distances in time and so far we are proving them wrong by a factor of 2 at least. If the book says 1 hour, it will take us at least 2. We got a traditional breakfast of eggs, sausage, bacon (ham strips in my opinion), grilled tomato, and toast–I graciously shared my egg with Pam and got nothing in return (I’m a very giving guy).

After breakfast followed by a porcelain visit, we headed to the local church and cemetery to get a feel for the age of the local. George spied a pharmacy on the way so he popped in for a few hits of pain killer (I think he misses the Opium Shop in Bath–isn’t retirement freeing?).

Then on to Tenby Castle for some amazing views of the town. We could see St. Catherine’s island and it was low tide, so we could walk out and have a look. When we got there, we discovered an admission requirement and rediscovered our tightness concerning money. We opted to walk around the island and be amazed by the caves under the old fort.

After one more coffee for the road, we enjoyed a couple mile beach walk to Penally. There is a military firing range there and they fly red flags if its active. No flags, so we opted to walk down range. We were hoping for safe passage since it’s a holiday week with little kids around. There was a point where we could see a couple islands off the coast. One of which was Caldey Island which still supports a small Belgium monastery that supports itself by selling perfume.

After the firing range, it was an easy walk all downhill (except for when we went uphill) to Lydstep. This is where we were planning on spending the night and renting a camping spot. We made our way into the restaurant at Lydstep Beach Village caravan park–DO NOT waste your time with this place! They refused to serve us any food because we weren’t residents. I was pissed! (Amazing, I know. I’m generally so even tempered.). When we got outside, an older woman apologized to us for the way we were treated. She said she owns a spot there and she has seen the tavern refuse to even give a glass of water to passing hikers.

We ended up hiking about 3/4 mile into Lydstep proper and eating at the pub. We also enquired about places to camp and the pub owner recommended hiking out to Skrinkle Haven to wild camp. After our curries and beer, we headed that way for a spectacular, level spot on the cliffs above the ocean.

I was pretty late getting to bed last night because of blog updates for the last few days (true devotion to my one devoted reader–thanks, dad). Once again, Pam was concerned about where I was and what was taking so long, but not to the point where she came looking for me or stayed awake.

Not too long after I got into bed and had the lights out, a young couple quietly crept in and got on the top bunk next to the door. They definitely had more fun than I did that night while Pam was snoring away above me. The most infuriating part (other than too dim of light to see anything) was that I had to go to the bathroom after they got started. I just held it until they finished, waited 15 minutes, faked waking up, and then made my exit.

When I got back in bed but still hadn’t fallen asleep, Karen woke up (I found in the morning) worried about me because I hadn’t been snoring. She said she almost woke Pam up until she saw me move. I’m still confused because Pam is the snorer.

Once we got up, showered, packed, ate breakfast, repacked, took one more bathroom break, shuffled all of our gear around, performed one final pack, and headed downstairs, we were ready to head to the trail for Wales. Unfortunately, George’s latest repacking for efficiency made him forget where he put things and if he put them in the proper bag, so he got one more tear down and repack in. All we had to do was find a place to store our extra gear while we were in Wales. Right across from the train station, we found our savior in having 3 competitors right next to each other. What we thought was going to be 3 BP/day for 2 bags for 21 days (3x2x21=126 BP or approx $160) we got for about 1/3 of that. We were off to a great start.

We then went to the train station and figured out our travel arrangements and had time for a spot of tea and a chance to buy lunch for the train. We had a 4 1/2 hour ride in front of us. We navigated the trains like old pros and got to Tenby, Wales without incident (the biggest problem we had was so many people interested in what we were doing and then wanting to help us out with advice and directions. One woman got off the train and directed us to the information center and bus stop. The Welsh people have been absolutely fantastic to us so far.

After acquiring bus schedules, tide tables, and chatting with the information clerk, we ended up taking a taxi to Amroth instead for just a couple extra pounds. This was a great bargain and the most efficient way to get there as we were going to have to wait almost 2 hours for the next bus and we ended up passing the previous bus less than 1/2 way to Amroth. The taxi driver drove us directly to the start of the trail. Unfortunately, just 50 yards from the start is a Welsh Pub by the name of New Inn. It was already 4:30p and the trail would still be there if we had a snack and a pint.

At 5:30, we finally were on our way through Amroth walking along the beach with the Atlantic to our left (an easy enough indicator to keep us from getting lost). At approximately 5:45p we lost the trail. We ended up on a dead end in a parking lot next to the beach. We recovered and headed on to our first goal of Wiseman’s bridge just 2 miles up the road.

At 6:30, we arrived at our goal of Wiseman’s Bridge Inn for a supper before we set up camp. Once again, there were plenty of people with suggestions as to where we could camp since the local park was full. After we had another pint, some curry, and some lively conversations concerning the current state of American politics. I tried my Canadian accent, but it was too late. Everyone was nice, but concerned about the stability of our country.

We decided to head on through the tunnels towards Saundersfoot where we might be able to find a wild campsite for the night. It was still light out so we weren’t concerned. Another mile and we could set up camp.

Unfortunately, we missed the recommended spot and ended up in Saundersfoot. The town is right on a beach so I decided to step around one of the beachfront condos and take some pictures. When I came back, everyone had abandoned me. I started up the road and ran into a lovely young English couple and their 2 children who were just returning from a walk to Tenby and back. They described the trail and we were having a pleasant conversation about what our plans were. Anyone who knows me knows that I’m normally not a talker. After about 10 minutes (Pam and Karen claim 30, but I don’t believe them–everyone knows how excitable Pam can be), Pam andKaren came screaming after me that they were afraid I’d fallen off a cliff (when they left me standing on a beach). The husband apologized for getting me in trouble. I humbly fell back in line trying to calm Pam down.

We caught up with George downtown and tried to find some lodging for the night. It was too late and a holiday week so we decided to keep walking and maybe we’d find a spot in the woods. This is when we discovered the secret to the Pembrokeshire Coastal Path–follow the upside down acorns where ever they appear. The towns have incorporate the acorns on their street signs so you must watch carefully. We didn’t watch carefully. We missed the last turn in town and ended up walking about a mile (all uphill, in the dark, with 6′ of snow, both ways–wrong point, let’s settle for dark and uphill). We finally realized what we had done, turned around and got back on the trail. By now, George was tired and running on adrenaline. He shot up the trail like a jackrabbit and we couldn’t keep up. We finally caught up with him and set up camp the first open area we saw–the only drawback was in was about a 30 degree slope. I know how to compensate for these things so I wasn’t worried. Just sleep on the uphill side in the tent and as you slide down, you end up with a person cushion under you.

I slept well last night, but the other three people complained about someone snoring in the hostel.  It’s a mystery to me because we were in a four person room and I couldn’t hear anyone.  At any rate, we got up, ate, and made it back to Paddington Station to validate our British Rail Passes and catch the train to Bath.

We made our way directly to St Christopher’s Hostel and dropped our luggage in a locker so we could go exploring for a bit before we were able to check in at 2p.  After a great reluctance of all parties to make a decision, we accidentally ate lunch right on the steps of the Bath Abbey.

We walked around a little after we ate and then headed back to get checked in.  On the way, we strolled along the River Avon.

After getting settled in, we decided to walk back to tour the Abbey, have some ice cream, and check out the shops on Pulteney Bridge.  After the required beer stop to sample the local beer, we headed back to the hostel for supper and an early night after we repacked all of our gear in anticipation of finally starting to hike tomorrow.  We are here to hike, right?

As with London, we will return to Bath after we complete the Pembrokeshire Coastal Path.  We will have a leisurely morning of packing and repacking before we catch the train to Tenby, Wales.  We need to start burning off some of the calories we have been consuming of late.

This was our first experience with British Airways and I’d say it went rather well.  We went to the wrong terminal at O’Hare to begin with.  We were supposed to be on an American Airlines flight as a BA partner.  Fortunately, we didn’t have to endure all the extra charges and cramped conditions of AA (sorry Dan).  The ticketing agent managed to get us an earlier BA flight on a 747 and gave us an entire center aisle of 4 seats to ourselves.  Even with 2 extra seats, I couldn’t quite spread out because Pam decided horizontal riding was the way to go.  We landed in London a full hour before Karen and 4 hours before George (even though he boarded his plane before we boarded ours–I guess the pilot decided to approach London from the east).

We had time for a drink with Karen while we waited.  Even with the truth of advertising, we just opted for some coffeee to help keep us awake.

George finally arrived so we made our way to downtown London and the hostel we were staying at near Paddington Station.

After we checked into the micro-hostel, we decided to walk around for a little bit to catch a few sights before we crashed.

We didn’t realize how close we were to Hyde Park so we took a stroll around Princess Di’s memorial fountain before grabbing a semi-early supper.

We ate at the Goat Pub and had a traditional English supper: beef pies and chips for the men while the ladies settled for the healthier fish and chips.  Beer washed it all down.

After supper, we took a short cut back to our hostel which accidentally ran through a large number of foreign embassies.  We weren’t allowed to take pictures, but there was a security presence outside of the Israeli Embassy.  The Saudi looked most intriguing and the Russian Embassy walls were covered with rotating spikes–I wanted to touch one to see if they were sharp, but Pam wanted no part of me creating an international incident with Putin (leave that to Trump).

We just got a small glimpse of London before the jet lag kicked in.  We will be traveling back through here a couple more times on this first leg of our journey.

 

This past week has been a living hell of stress–this is supposed to be relaxing for us to sell everything we own and downsize!  Maybe after it’s all gone, we will see the benefit.  One thing we did learn is that we are making a lot of people happy by leaving; starting with the ladies of the evening (and Norm) we spend Friday’s with.  They were so happy to see us go, we had 3 parties with them (and they are having a celebration dinner next Sunday as a sign of relief that we are gone).

Pam’s co-workers also had a party for us at the casino in Cape Girardeau.  No body played slots because they all considered it a win that we were leaving (at least that I was leaving–it appears they might actually miss Pam).

After we delivered all of our “stuff” (some, including me, might say shit instead of stuff) to George’s basement, Karen came out and had dinner with us to discuss our final plans before London.  It occurs to me as of writing this, Karen didn’t carry a single box, yet Queen Sarah was a cleaning fool to get us out of there.  Without Sarah’s help, we would still be stuck in Cape.

Next, we headed to my childhood purgatory of Decatur, IL to spend a few days with my mom and dad before heading to Chicago (and to get Monical’s Pizza one last time–it’s almost as good as Mackie’s in Marion, IL).  We got to get me a new camera for the trip and my dad a new computer so he can follow our blog (at least we’ll have one dedicated reader!)

We still haven’t seen the relief of not owning a home yet, or realized we don’t have work hanging over our heads.  Maybe it will sink in once we get to Wales.  We did get to spend the night with my friends Dave and Sue in Chicago and drop in on an investment club meeting with a group of friends that I know all the way across time from college.  It’s interesting to note that I was the youngest one in this group (wine ladies, you’re not alone–Shannon and Roxanne, you don’t count since you’re not regulars, but I will pass the baton to you, Shannon).  I did fall hook, line, and sinker for the joke the investment club pulled on me–the club’s net worth of $2.5 M. I was studying all of their investments trying to figure out what I missed buying (I used to buy everything they sold and usually did better once they got out of the market 🙂 much like when Killer Cantwell the rabid Card fan goes to a game and making it possible for the Cubs to win).

It’s not an official vacation with George unless he spends $1,000 at the last minute.  When we went to Isle Royale, he lost his camera in the airport so we had to buy a new Canon (which we eventually found the old one and bought it cheap off of him, so I’m not complaining).  This time it was his phone.  We stopped at the Apple Store to talk to a few “geniuses” on the way to the airport where George got his new iPhone 7 to lose in Europe.

Now we are doing all we can to help POTUS Trump (I prefer SCROTUS) to make America great again by leaving.  It is my goal to unplug from the news and not hear anything of American politics for the rest of this year.  The British don’t pay much attention to American politics do they?  Our chariot awaits.

 

What a busy last couple of months we’ve had.

Pam’s last day of work was March 3.  We immediately got on board a flight to head to New Jersey (yes, we intentionally went to New Jersey) to visit an old friend of mine from college that I haven’t seen in over 20 years.  The last time we got together, he had a brand new son.  Over the years, he has added an entire new adult to his family.

We spent 4 day’s with Raj, Neena, Neal, and Nisha getting reaquainted.  Neena cooked us wonderful authentic Indian food.  Raj is the person who got me started eating Indian food over 30 years ago (am I that old?–my god, Pam’s even older!)

As soon as we got back from Jersey, we had to start getting ready for one last vacation before we begin our work of hiking for the next few years.  Pam’s dad is turning 80 this month, so the family decided to celebrate by going on a southern Carribbean cruise.  I was ready for some down time after getting ready to hit the road.

Some people like to lament about what a hard life they have.  Listen to this, we had to hit 5 ports in a row with no down time in between.  If it wasn’t for the continuous flow of food into our bodies, we wouldn’t have been able to pull off such a fete.

We did manage to get a day off from excursions here and there.  All in all, we had a fantastic time even with all the whining of kids not getting their way–after Pam disciplined me and put a pacifier beer in my mouth, all was well.

Since we got back from the cruise, we have had no down time trying to wade through all the crap we have accumulated.  We have managed to sell almost all of our furniture and give away loads, but we still need a 20′ U-Haul truck to transport everything we still have to store in my brother’s-in-law basement.

My time with Ilana is coming to a close.  She has been my best friend for 11 years.  It makes me sad to think that she might not survive the first leg of our travels, but she has promised me that she will wait for my return.  Nonetheless, I try to cuddle and spend as much time with her as I can.

I also had one last requirement to complete before Pam would agree to go hiking with me.  She insisted that I get a colonoscopy before we take off.  I put it off almost as long as the other pain in the ass still hanging over my head–taxes, which I have to do this weekend.

I will be so glad to get on the plane so I can sleep sitting upright instead of on a lousy air mattress.  Our odyssey is about to begin!

This is really going to happen!

We’ve bought our round trip plane tickets to London leaving Chicago on April 9, 2017 and returning on December 8, 2017.  We’ve made hostel reservations in London and Bath for when we first get there before we start the Pembrokeshire Coastal Path.  We’ve also gotten plane reservations from London to France so we can hike the Camino de Santiago starting in early May.

As many of you may know (all 3 of my relatives that read this blog), I have sold my house and land in Southern Illinois.  Pam and I just got married on January 17 this year.  This is my mom’s birthday so I don’t have a new date that I have to remember.  It was a small affair with just us, my oldest niece and her husband, Pam’s kids, and Pam’s parents.  It was 3 times the size I had prepared myself for so I was a little nervous with the crowd.

We’ve since gotten Pam’s name changed and have already received her new passport.  We are in the process of selling off the furniture and cars in the next few weeks.  Pam is not quite willing to get rid of everything, but I can tell you from the experience of selling ALL of my stuff (except for clothes and camping gear) it is very liberating.

Marriage has caused a few unforeseen changes in me (mainly guilt driven by my new wife).  I now find myself being forced to comb my hair at least once a day and if I wear the same clothes for a couple days in a row she lets me know–is she in for a rude awakening on the Triple Crown where we will wear the clothes for 6 months in a row.

Other than the last bit of stuff to pack up and store, we have to file our taxes and then we will be ready.  There’s just one wrench in the works…

Ilana nearly died from digging up and inhaling a couple of fungus’ (histoplasmosis and blastomycosis) when she was 5 years old.  Before she got sick, she weighed almost 120#.  When we were going through the treatment, she got down to under 55#.  So many times I thought she was going to die when I was taking her to the vet.  After one and a half years of anti-fungal medications starting at $900/month which we were eventually able to switch to generics for $350/month, she did recover.  She is my 6th Great Pyrenees.  She never got back to her pre-digging weight, but she’s now a healthy 90# pup.  Her sister died last year from cancer when she was 9 1/2 years old.  Before her sister, I had never had a Pyr make it past 9.  Ilana is now 11.  I never thought she would still be around this late in the game (we actually chose the dates with her age in mind).

I lose sleep over this every night.  Back in November, she would come up to me all nervous every night breathing hard and I thought she was going into congestive heart failure.  I was sad thinking that the end was so close.  Now it’s like Monty Python and the Holy Grail–she comes up to me as I’m about to pronounce her dead and says “I’m feeling better.  I think I’ll go for a walk now.”  We have a couple of friends that are willing to take her, but I’m afraid that our separation will drop her into a depression.  I’ve had her since she was 6 1/2 weeks old.  At the very least, it will drop me into a depression to leave her behind.

I’ve gotten her to agree that if she lives until we leave, she has to hang on until we get back in December.  That’s almost 6 dog years.

In the mean time, I try not to think about it much.  I’ve got enough stuff to do with Pam complaining about all she has to do rather than just doing it.  I don’t work well with being told all the work that needs to be done.  I want one task to do at a time.  Women that think they multi-task are really just pain inflictors on those around them (in my humble male opinion).

In the mean time; please remember, I now live full time in…