The Wales coast path - the home run

The Wales coast path – the home run

An evening walk and the start of a week’s serious walking to get to Cardiff. Having travelled down to Cardiff that afternoon, it was over to Swansea at tea-time, then a couple of hours walking, making the most of June’s light evenings.

There has been some money spent on some areas of Swansea, and the bit where you cross the river does look rather nice these days. Yes, there are other bits where some more money needs to be spent, but credit where it’s due.

Leaving Swansea, the cycle path follows a dual carriageway, but I followed the footpath which follows a canal. Then it almost seems to head onto the M4. Of course, it does branch off immediately before you get there, but I did wonder what was coming for a moment.

After sorting out that mini spaghetti-junction, you are on the approach to Port Talbot, but somehow my maths didn’t seem to be adding up. I had found a railway station on the map which I thought it was Port Talbot Parkway, but the signs were still saying that Port Talbot was 5 miles or so away. All became clear when I reached the station, it turned out to be Baglan, but I decided that would do!

Returning to Baglan the next day, it was time to do some serious walking and see how many miles I could cover. Not as many as I initially hoped, to be honest, but it was a good walk all the same.

The first puzzle of the day was trying to get to and then out of Port Talbot! Getting to it was reasonably simple – simply head along Aberavon beach, but then trying to exit? Not so straight-forward. The path leads between two roads at a roundabout, and if you blink, you miss it, but once you are on it, it is well-marked. This is just as well, as the next section of the path leads through some back streets, where the landmarks are people’s garages and the like – it really did feel to be most odd.

Having walked close to a road to Margam, trying to get back onto the beach was not as easy as it sounds either. To either side of the path, there were signs that this was private property, and it felt most unwelcoming. As well as that, I also felt to be going in the wrong direction. I wasn’t, it’s just the way the path leads to get onto the beach, but all the same, I was glad to cross the Cynffig and reach Kenfig Sands.

Porthcawl proved to be a pleasant place, a seaside town enjoying some fine June weather, and it was a good place to stop for coffee.

Leaving Porthcawl, it was over the sands to the river Ogmore which had to be crossed at Merthyr Mawr, which translates as Big Merthyr, not to be confused with Big Bertha, that’s someone altogether different!

At Merthyr Mawr, I decided to call it a day and walked into Bridgend for the train back. I could have done more, but that was far enough for one day.

Returning to Merthyr Mawr the next day, it was raining and was also cold and wet. These really were not nice conditions for June – or for any time of year come to that.

I started by taking a taxi back to Merthyr Mawr from Bridgend, then the plan was to talk to Barry today, but due to the weather, that was not going to happen. When I realised at one point that my hands were so cold they could hardly hold anything, I decided to give up at Llanilltud Fawr. Now if you are looking for that on a map you may struggle. That is its Welsh name. In English it is usually called Llantwit Major, but as IIltud was no twit, I am going to use the Welsh name for this place. Indeed, not only was Illtud no twit, he is a saint of the church, he was an abbot and teacher, founded an abbey and college in the place that bears his name. More than that, the college is believed by some to be Britain’s earliest centre of learning. The church now stands on the site, and when I reached it, having simply plodded on through a couple more miles of wind, cold and rain, I had a brief glance inside. I was dripping wet, and there wasn’t long to wait before there was a train back to Cardiff, so I only popped my head round the door, but it was good to see part of the church being used to house a fine collection of Celtic crosses and stones.

The weather was better the next day, so when I returned to Llanilltud Fawr, I started to make progress once again and was able to get onto the beach and back on the coast path pretty quickly.

However, after a couple of miles, it was difficult to find the path, it seemed to be marked on the map as going across the beach, but it was a very rocky beach, and trying to clamber my way over the stones and rocks made for slow progress.

Things did get better when I reached the power station, a power station which had a concrete path round it. That was easy to follow and enabled me to pick up the pace again. There were a few large puddles on the other side, but I could simply walk on the sea wall round them.

The path led on to Rhoose point, the Southernmost point of mainland Wales. It is also very close to Cardiff airport – so close, in fact, that when a Thompson plane was coming into land, I had such a good view of its undercarriage it was almost indecent!

Finally, onwards through Porthkerry country park and into Barry. Barrybados they call it. Whilst it was a nice enough day, that is probably stretching a point. I ended up at the docks station, and, as I have said about the walk a few times this week, whilst I could have done more, I had tried to pack reasonably light, and needed to do a batch of laundry before the day was out!

Back to Barry, and back to the roads, this time skirting round Sully before doubling back on myself to head away from the roads, across some fields and back to the coast leading into Penarth. That is another nice seaside place, and it was time for another coffee stop (coffee stops have been quite a feature of the walk!)

From Penarth, the path leads uphill for a while, and once again doubles back on itself before dropping down onto a marvellous feat of engineering, Cardiff Bay barrage. Cardiff could be seen in the distance,

and Cardiff Bay with its millennium facelift, Millennium Centre, Senedd building, Dr Who exhibition and more places to eat or have a coffee than you can shake a stick at, is well worth exploring.

I was greeted by my colleague Mark and had lunch with him.

From Cardiff, I have previously walked to Bristol, and so, whilst I might not have stuck rigidly to the Wales coast path the whole time (indeed, I started the walk before I had heard of the Wales coast path, shortly before it was officially opened) the original plan was to walk the Welsh coast. That’s just subtly different from walking the coast path.  Know that one day soon I will have to return to walk the 11 miles between the Severn Bridge (from where my walk to Bristol took me across the border into England) and Chepstow, but given my original plan, I can now say my walk round the coast is complete.

It has been an incredible journey. Whilst there have been many miles and many days of walking on my own, it has been good to share bits of it with friends, to chat briefly with people I have met along the way, to bump into old friends quite unexpectedly on more than one occasion, and, after various stages of the walk, to share my thoughts with you, dear reader.

A couple of days after returning home, I celebrated by having yet another gentle stroll to a coffee shop and treating myself to a coffee and cream cake. Ok, so the coffee shop was at the summit of Snowdon, the gentle stroll was perhaps not all that gentle, and Snowdon is not exactly on the coast, but it did seem to be the crowning glory in so many ways.

Some people have been asking me “What’s next?” In the first instance, a rest! But I know it won’t be long before I start to get itchy feet again. Perhaps Offa’s Dyke (which could start with the missing bit, Severn Bridge to Chepstow) so that I have circumvented Wales. I’m also very conscious of the fact that although I visited Anglesey, I didn’t include any of its coastline in the walk, so that’s an obvious gap. Further afield, there is a Fife Coast path, I am looking at the Danube trail from Vienna to Bratislava, and a totally crazy idea would be Lake Michigan (but that’s 1200 miles, and to do that would require another sabbatical!)

There’ll be other walks and other ramblings of a different nature to come in the pages of this blog, but once again thanks for sharing this journey round the Wales coast path with me. Diolch yn fawr iawn i bawb. 

Gower

Back to Llanelli, back to the rain. So, what is the best way out of Llanelli? By all accounts, it’s not via the golf-club, even though that was where the path seemed to lead. Thankfully, though, there was a kind soul there who said “Look, don’t tell anyone I’ve told you this, but go up there, follow the path and jump over the fence and you’re back on the coast path” Ok, so I’ve now told everyone who happens to be reading this, but I don’t think the kind person is likely to get into any trouble – especially as there was a gap in the fence and I didn’t have to do any jumping!

The rain was non-stop for the first couple of hours. I had delayed the departure a little to allow for some of it to pass, but eventually there was only one thing to do – cover myself in waterproofs and hope for the best.

After a couple of hours of that I found a shelter in a park on the approach to Loughor. It was whilst seeking shelter that the worst of the rain stopped, and the next bit, on road heading towards Gowerton was far less miserable. The roads made for easy walking, Pen-clawdd offered a bite of lunch, and then at Crofty, the road turns onto the coast and gives stunning views all the way to Llanrhydian, views made all the better by the fact that after the morning’s deluge, it was now a beautiful afternoon.

At Llanrhydian I came across the church and could hear the organist practicing “Since Jesus came into my heart” – now that’s something I haven’t sung in years! I didn’t want to disturb him/her and my boots were wet and filthy, so I didn’t go in but it was good to hear and put a spring in my step for the rest of the way.

 Had to take the high tide diversion through Cheriton, and had to avoid the sheep! They were on the road ahead of me, and when they saw me approach, because they were scared, they ran a bit firther ahead still. If they’d run to the side, then I could have gone on my way and not disturbed them. Anyway, it was a case of dodge the sheep and follow the road all the way to Llanmadoc where I found my B&B for the evening.

The next morning, after a hearty breakfast, I continued through Llanmadoc, past the church and caravan park, then dropped down onto the beach to follow the dunes to Rhosilli. From there, it was a long and rocky, though beautiful walk through Overton and Port Eynon, made all the tougher by the fact that the walk took me right past the youth hostel where I was to be staying in that night. There was a lot more walking to do before I got back there, though! It was on round a bay and Oxwich Point to find a very welcome café just before reaching Oxwich sands. 

Then, it was onto the sands with my shoes and socks off to cross some shallow streams, over some stepping stones and on to Caswell. Because of the distance I needed to cover today,  wasn’t really taking the time to admire the scenery as I should. It was beautiful but I felt worn-out, and at this point, I decided to cheat, and head onto the road to take a short-cut to Mumbles. Again, with more time, I could have enjoyed this for the pleasant seaside place it is, but all I wanted to do was get back to where I’d left the car 2 days ago and then return to the youth hostel I had passed some hours previously.

The following day I walked the few miles along Swansea Bay from Mumbles where I left off yesterday and headed into the city centre. It was all over by mid-morning, and then it was time to head to the next adventure, “Tough Mudder”

The next section of the walk, to be covered in early June, would be the home run. The end was now in sight.

Proud to be a Christian

I’m now about 2/3 of the way through my sabbatical, and this past weekend I have had the chance to travel and meet with members of the wider Methodist family and the world church.

The main theme of the sabbatical is “Faith and homosexuality”, and this past weekend saw Pride marches take place in many cities across the world, London, New York and San Francisco to name but a few. This weekend is chosen as it is the one closest to the anniversary of the Stonewall Riots in New York, 1969.  I was fortunate enough to be invited to walk with Urban Village Church, part of the wider Methodist family, in Chicago Pride.

There was another reason why I wanted to see Chicago Pride – I wanted to see and thank members of the Marin Foundation for its “I’m sorry” campaign.

A few years ago, Andrew Marin, a Christian, was fed up of being seen as a homophobic bigot just because he happened to be a Christian. So he and others took to lining the route of Chicago Pride wearing t-shirts saying “I’m sorry”. When asked the inevitable “What are you sorry for?”, they could reply, “Sorry for the way the church has treated you”, “sorry for formerly being a Bible-banging homophobe” etc.

It’s not the sort of message you expect to hear Christians saying at Pride, more’s the pity, and there have been some wonderful conversations as a result. One photo from, I think, their first campaign, has been an internet sensation. I don’t use that word lightly, but I believe it has been shared over 20 million times. So here’s another share

When I arrived at Urban Village, I was greeted by one of their ministers and said hello to some others who had arrived early. It’s an evangelical church which meets in a theatre, and its slogan is “Bold, inclusive, relevant” (I have questions as to what I believe is an over-use of the word “relevant” in Christian circles, but I’ll let that pass on this occasion). Early on in the service there was a time of testimony, and it was the first time I can remember someone giving their testimony in church and coming out as being gay. Bless you for that, Tyler.

But as the church is not to be kept within the 4 walls, it was soon time to get the bus to the start of the Pride parade. Of course, being a typical Brit, I was looking entirely the wrong way down the street for the bus to arrive, and it came as a bit of a surprise when it arrived from behind me! I thought about trying to make a joke about “Being on’t other bus” but wondered if my American friends would get it!

Just before the Parade started we met up not only with other members of Urban Village (it’s a church on 4 sites across Chicago), but also with what must have been about 30 other churches from across the city, all with signs displaying their name. What a wonderful witness. As a number of clergy were walking wearing their clerical collars, I changed my shirt [and possibly made someone’s day in the process?? {who am I trying to kid?} J ] and the resulting photo has received over 40 likes on Facebook and at least one person has nicked it to comment on North Wales Pride! Ok, that’s still well short of 20 million, but it’s a start! J

I didn’t get many photos of the parade itself, largely because even by my standards, we were walking at a fair lick. What I do remember, though, is the enormous support, cheering and good-will from the crowd who, for the most part (I guess) are probably not regular worshippers. Indeed, my right arm was aching after the walk because of the amount of waving I had been doing. It was also fascinating to see some of the clergy walking hand-in hand with their partners. May the day come when that doesn’t raise an eyebrow.

Towards the end of the parade was the “I’m sorry” team, and it was a chance for me to hug and thank them for the work they’re doing. That was a special moment. Sadly, behind them were other Christians with the more usual banners and slogans, and in contrast to the churches represented on the walk and the “I’m sorry” team, it made me wonder just what Good News they had to offer. I had to smile, though, when, standing next to them was someone dressed as Jesus with a banner “I’m not with these guys”

At this point, the parade was at an end, and there was a moment where we ground to a halt to allow for floats etc in front of us to make their exit. Standing there, as people representing many branches of the church in Chicago, we started singing an old Sunday School chorus, just one word changed to allow us to sing it to the crowd with the Good News we were here to share “Yes, Jesus loves you, the Bible tells me so”

I had an interesting conversation with someone from Urban Village afterwards, when he commented that he thought that church in Britain was far more progressive in this matter than in the USA.  That stopped me in my tracks, and I told him that I had thought it was the other away round. I suppose in both countries, there is a wide diversity of opinion, and it’s only the negative press which makes the news.

After praying together, many of us went off for a burger, and all too soon, it was time to head our separate ways. It was a wonderful day, and gave me plenty to think about and remember for a long time to come.

On the day I arrived home, the Methodist Conference voted to allow Methodists (clergy and laity, we don’t make distinctions) to enter into same-sex marriages, and, whilst they can’t take place in church, guidelines were issued to allow a blessing if church and minister approve. The tone of the debate was wonderful, both sides watching over one another in love. I fully recognise that some will think we have gone too far, and some, like me, will think there is more work to be done, but the overall tone of the debate made me proud to be a Methodist.

Like Martin Luther King fifty years ago, I still have a dream, and these past few days, I have seen a glimpse of the dream coming true J

Derren Brown

Last night I saw Derren Brown’s show “Infamous” at the Lowry, Salford Quays. This isn’t going to be a review of the show as such, though some aspects of this will touch on that, and I am not going to go into detail as to what the show contained, largely for the benefit of future audiences who have not seen the show yet. So what I say about the show is either in very general terms, or has already been reported in newspaper reviews.

What has been said in the papers is that the show starts with Brown describing the process of coming out as a gay man. Basically, in this day and age, it was unremarkable. That, however, is not the purpose of this blog. I’m thinking more about one part of the show, where I hope I’m not giving too much away by saying that at one stage he put some members of the audience into a trance.  I have to say that I wasn’t entirely comfortable with this, and there is still more for me to reflect on in this area, but there was no pressure, people were simply invited to take part if they wished and no-one thought any the less of those who did not. I didn’t wish to take part and that was fine. More on that later.

If I understand correctly, those who were in a trance were conscious throughout. The vast majority remained standing, but 2, with whom Brown had some physical contact fell to the floor. One of those guys was seated across the aisle from me, and when he was on the floor, he was in the aisle, right next to me.

That led me to think back to some large Evangelical Christian gatherings I have attended in the past, and where I have seen a not dis-similar sight. It got me thinking again about something I have been considering for some time, at these large events, are the worship leaders trying to get the congregation into a trance-like state?

I have mentioned above that Derren invited people to take part if they wished – I didn’t, and not everyone did by any means, that was fine. There was no problem at the theatre last night, yet at big evangelical gatherings, if you don’t get into that sort of state, there seems to be an assumption that there’s something wrong with you / you don’t have enough faith / you need prayer.

I have blogged previously about this, after a preacher at Spring Harvest tried to push me over when I asked for prayer, (I have not been back to Spring Harvest since), and also mentioning a TV show which Brown did, based on faith healings. He set out to debunk the fake faith healers of today, as Houdini set out to debunk the fake mediums of his day, and whilst there will be many throwing their hands up in horror and saying that Brown, the gay atheist is on a one-way ticket to Hell, I for one think that he did the church a great favour there.

I’m not against healing, I firmly believe that God can and does heal, but not all healing is physical, and it is for God, not evangelical preachers, to say when healing will take place.

Last night’s show was entertainment, and we all knew that it was entertainment. That is fine. It is when entertainment masquerades as worship, and even worse, as healing, that the red warning lights should be visible.

Across Carmarthenshire

Back to Carmarthen with a bit of luck the worst of the winter storms have passed. It is now the end of February, and whilst it is not exactly tropical, there are signs of hope springing up all around us.

Today’s short walk from Carmarthen to Ferryside was rather functional. There’s not really a lot to be said for it, it was just to give me a bit of a start on tomorrow’s stretch to Llanelli.

So, leaving Ferryside the next day, it was a pretty easy journey along the path, skirting Llansaint and then reaching Kidwelly. That is a lovely place. I noticed the Methodist church, - it is hard not to notice it, it is on the main road and also right on the side of the coast path - and I also noted that I know the minister there. There was a coffee morning being advertised, but it said that it started at 10, and it was now only 9:30. I know I would have been made welcome and would have enjoyed a coffee had I shown my face, but I would also have had “Twenty questions” if other Methodist churches that I know are anything to go by! Not that this is exclusive to Methodism, and apologies if this is inaccurate here. As I said earlier in the blog when I was opposite the Methodist church in Llandudno having a coffee morning, invite me back sometime of you want to know more about the walk.

Not that everything relating to the walk today was plain sailing - there was further evidence of the storm damage from this past winter, and I had to avoid Pembrey forest, presumably because of fallen trees. There were signs and notices pointing out the diversion, and then the path was re-routed inland. It followed minor roads before leading onto an old railway track. The problem was, on the railway track, the diversion signs ran out, and at one stage I thought I was going to get lost when I realised that I was in danger of heading further inland than I really needed to be. However, when I then spotted a railway bridge, I was able to get my bearings, and it turned out, happily, that I was not lost at all. By heading onto the bridge, I could reach the main road and walk into Pembrey.

I passed through Pembrey and then stopped for a sandwich in Burry Port. That is the home town of a Methodist Minister who has made something of a name for himself – the Rev the Lord Leslie Griffiths of Pembrey and Burry Port in the county of Dyfed. It sounds grand, but he is very down to earth, and I have a lot of time for him.

After Burry Port, the path led by a sewage works. I cannot possibly comment whether that led me to think of anyone or not.

The afternoon was glorious and the walk from Burry Port to Llanelli was along a lovely bit of coast path. It was buzzing – a sunny afternoon in February half-term week, there were people out for a walk, walking the dog, going for a bike-ride etc. It was as good as late February gets. Indeed, having planned for a day’s walking in February, I was prepared for a cold walk, and was wearing 2 pairs of socks, one quite long to offer more warmth to the legs – I had to stop and remove these, it was so warm. For a moment I even regretted not having my shorts with me, but that would have been too hopeful, and I didn’t wish to scare people away!

There were also signs around here commemorating the achievements of Amelia Earhart, the first woman to cross the Atlantic by air. She didn’t pilot the plane – though she was later to become the first woman to pilot a place across the Atlantic, but pilot or not, she made the crossing, and this is where she landed.

Sadly, the glorious weather didn’t last, and I got to Llanelli just as it started to rain, but what a great day it was.

Under Milk Flood?

I have just realised with horror that not only is it June, and that my blogging of the Wales coast path walk is way behind schedule, but also that I have blogged once so fat this year. So here's an attempt to put that right with the next couple of stages on the coast path.

Laugharne – St Clears.

Another year is with us, and with a bit of luck, 2014 is the year in which I will finish the Wales coast path. It is also the year that marks the centenary of Dylan Thomas’ birth, so perhaps it is appropriate that the walking this year begins in Laugharne, where he lived and wrote.

You’re not far out of Laugharne when the path leads past his former house,

 and then, round the next corner is the famous boathouse where some of his best-known works were written.

At this stage, the path was a bit muddy, but not too bad. I’d certainly encountered worse than this before today. Later, though, it became a squelch. Some boards over the worst of it helped, but really, after a wet Christmas, there’s not a lot anyone can do about mud in January! Going over the boards, I did get a wave from a farmer – he was only saying good morning, but just for a moment, I thought he was trying to warn me of something, no, just a friendly greeting.

As it took place in January, it wasn’t the longest stage of the walk ever. Indeed, it has been one of the shortest. I suppose it’s more strategic than anything – St Clears, whilst not exactly a thriving metropolis, is just a little bit more on the beaten track than Laugharne.

To be continued with the hope of a bit better weather to come.

St Clears – Carmarthen

There has been some terrible weather since the last stage of the walk. Storms, wind and heavy rain have battered Britain, so much so that today, large parts of the coast path were more than another potential squelch – local knowledge had it that the path was flooded in places, and was impassable.

 So for parts of it I was forced to take the coastal cycle path instead, though that still offered some large puddles to navigate!

So was there better weather today? Well, I wasn’t battling serious wind and rainstorms, but I hadn’t got very far, in fact I’d only just turned off the cycle path along the A40 out of St Clears when I was greeted with a hail shower. A taste of things to come? Well, no, it was short-lived, but it was an uncomfortable few minutes.

After a couple of hours of trying to work out what was path, what was cycle path, what was road, what was flooded and what wasn’t, I eventually reached Llansteffan. There, chatting to a local lady about the path, I was advised that although the path between here and Carmarthen wasn’t flooded, there was mud which would be likely to be up to my knees. Most people had been opting for local roads instead, so, very reluctantly, that was what I decided to do. 

There were some pleasant bits to that though, Llangain church was a rather nice spot to have a sandwich, then the area around what was left of the castle also made for pleasant walking.

So, somehow or other I made it to Carmarthen.

I hadn’t been on the path as much as I would have hoped today, though it did coincide with the cycle path and even minor roads at some points, so it wasn’t abandoned altogether. The train home was delayed, and not helped by the fact that at the station there were three drunk Irishmen who didn’t seem to know the difference between Pembroke and Paddington!

It's easy to say no.

The following is a poem which came to me during the Wales Synod / Synod Cymru retreat I have just attended. The background to it is a session on the poetry of Gwenallt (I'm not going to go into details about him here), but it got me thinking about the disconnect which there is between far too many churches (though by no means all) and the societies around them. I fully recognise that this will never rank alongside the poetry of the great bards of yore, it's just my contribution to the discussion.

It's easy to say "No, we've not done that before."
It's easy to say "No" and simply slam the door
It's easy to say "No", against modernity rail,
And yet, to hardly notice that we've grown old and frail.

We like these old, old ways,
We like these old, old hymns,
We like the old, old story,
"Forgiveness for our sins".

Well yes, there is a point there,
That's news the world needs hear;
The cradle, cross and empty tomb,
These things we must hold dear.

But, it's not about us,
It's not about the "we";
Our hymns, our ways, our chapels,
Our anniversary tea;

"Good news for all" is the Gospel.
How can we turn away
The homeless, the single mother,
Or people who are gay?

The Spirit will move in our churches
Oh, have we a heart for the lost?
Lord, lead us from Calvary to Glory,
And give us a new Pentecost


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