Karen has decided on a new approach; she’s going to get up in the morning and say excuse me to each of us and then not worry when she farts. This is a new concept to me. My wife doesn’t apologize for farting, she says “Choke on that. I own your ass and don’t forget it” and then holds the blanket over my head until I vomit.
While we were having breakfast, Ian popped in to check on us again. We talked with him for about an 1/2 hour. We still hadn’t cleaned up our pack explosions and the clothesline was still hanging in the kitchen. (Ian James–Holiday Chalets). He was extremely friendly and interested in what we are trying to do.
After Ian left, we quickly packed up and hit the road. Before Pam left, she told George not to forget his poles. As I stepped out, I told him to ditch his fleece. I waited out front for him–he forgot his poles, a block later we waited for him to drop his pack and take off his fleece. Hanging around two women is making him stubborn.
Not too long after we started hiking, we met a couple of young German men that were doing the trail southbound. They had been out almost two weeks and were planning on finishing on Tuesday. Their biggest regret was trying to do the trail so fast–they didn’t have time to sightsee and take side trips along the way. Speed is not going to be an issue for us.
The hiking today wasn’t too bad. Most of the time, we were walking above the cliffs. We did have a few ups and downs traversing from one cliff to the next. George has come a long way since we got him started hiking a few years ago on Isle Royale. We’ve already covered the same amount of distance we did then in just half the time. Having said that, I still don’t like hiking behind him because he’s so big, he blocks my view. But even scarier are the sounds that come from him. Sometimes loud squishy sounds bombard me and I shiver and back off.
As I was contemplating this, an English couple zipped on by on their mountain bikes. This is too risky to me to be balanced on a bike on these narrow trails on the cliffs edge.
We had heard there was a Tea House around Stackpole Quay. We came down a hill and I noticed an old house with picnic tables outside–this must be the place. I went up to try the door and just as I was about to enter a woman came up to me–“Excuse me, that’s my house. May I help you?” Apparently I was one cove off. I told her I just assumed she was a tea house and she really should consider serving tea. She said she was currently low and we should move on.
A mere 1/2 mile later we were sitting in a proper tea house ran by the National Trust in Stockpole Quay. Stockpole used to be a huge country estate with numerous beaches. During the World Wars, the government appropriated a large portion of the estate to make some military installations still in use today for NATO training. The governement eventually paid for the land. When the Lord of the Manor died in the 60’s, he donated an additional 20,000 acres of land to the national trust.
After tea, we strolled out to Barafundle Beach (also a part of the old Stockpole Estate). This is a world class beach and is considered one of the finest beaches in all of Europe. It was full being a holiday weekend. People flying kites, paddle boarding, and kayaking.
Next, we mossied out to Stackpole Point to take in the magnificent views at the edge of the world. This is where we met Jean Claud a former Frenchman who had been living in England for the last 25 years. He was definitely concerned about Brexit and worried about Trump. To make matters even more difficult for him, he has a Chinese wife and a mixed nation child so his concerns with the present political situation are very real. Having said all this, he can forget his troubles through fishing. As you might guess, George and I spent a long time talking with him. He’s originally from the area of southern France where we will be starting the Camino de Santiago and the GR10. It was a pleasure talking with him.
We had spent longer talking than we had intended so we needed to make up some distance. We only had about 1.5 miles to go to get to Broad Haven Beach–another amazing beach. This is where we met Nick and Angie. They directed us to the Lilly Pad ponds and told us where to camp on the other side of the beach.
We strolled around the ponds (2 miles worth of screaming feet stroll) and then headed into Bosherston for a bite at St Goven’s Inn. Another quaint old pub. A pint a day keeps the dogs at bay (the dogs being screaming feet).
After my curry and whatever crap everyone else ate, we reluctantly trudged on out to the farm on the far side of Broad Haven Beach to camp for the night.
We set up camp and looked around for Nick and Angie but couldn’t find them. There were some interesting camping setups there–the British idea of roughing it differs slightly from ours. We were starting to get a little chilled so we called it a night.
Shoutout from ‘the German guy’: I’ll be following you around Pembrokeshire. So watch your digital back :). It’s been great meeting hikers who think alike. And obviously you are intent to copy all the fotos I took and post ’em here…
How can I not–you’ve got a great eye like I do. Glad to get your name. Sorry we weren’t thinking at the time we took the picture.