Well, last night I had my own firework display from the hotel window. Bosherston is situated next to a military firing range and there was a big exercise progressing until about 11:00pm with different coloured tracers tearing across the sky with intermittent whizzes bangs and crashes - all very entertaining.
In the morning It was not possible to walk the boundary coast path because of the firing Range, and there is a road alternative shown on the map for the Pembrokeshire Coastal Path, but the military have recently constructed a path within their own perimeter which I had been told about. I imagined this to be some kind of consolidated surface but it turned out to be fields with the grass roughly cut, still long enough to wet your boots through, and with a lumpy, ankle twisting surface providing an uncomfortable start to a long day. I was away at 6:10am having had a breakfast tray provided the night before. By my route Pembroke was over twenty miles, but in a straight line maybe less than eight.
Just before Freshwater West Bay I met the usual dog walking Jonah who told me about the grave severity of the ups and down on the path between there and Angle. It turned out to be fairly normal up and down coastal path walking. Seascapes and weather were brilliant in the exact meaning of that word. I met a young couple backpacking who had camped on the cliffs with a Terra Noiva tent; they had carried water from Angle and seemed to be well organised.
After Angle it started to rain getting progressively worse, and the path to Pembroke went on and on and on. I met one other backpacker who had set off from Pembroke and we chatted for a few minutes. Later I met a guy called Simon renovating a shell of a house he had bought from the military I think; it will make a great residence I reckon - Simon told me to call for a cup of tea next time I was passing that way.
At 4:15 I arrived at the Tourist Info Office, but believe it or not, at what must be the prime time of the week for its existence, late on Friday pm, it had closed at 4:00pm.
I was dripping wet on the outside, mentally, but not physically exhausted, and then a guy told me about the forecast for Sunday with 9mm of rain, and I couldn't help letting that get to me. I found the Old King's Arms Hotel and booked in. Looking at the maps for the next two days, including the predicted Sunday downpour there seemed to be nowhere to stay, and I became even more dejected. I ate in the hotel and found myself almost falling asleep over the meal.
I am now writing this at breakfast on Saturday, and am glad to say that last night's depression has been eliminated by a good sleep, and so off we go again for the final few days.
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