Back on the road

I thought the coastpath walk was over for me. My poor old knees were very painful after 16 miles of distance and 1240 metres of ascent. 

We would do tourism instead.

There are amazing things to see in Pembrokeshire - the wildlife and archaeology are right up my street. Yet all was dimmed for me by a pall of failure -  but for my knees we should have been striding along vertiginous cliffs, looking out for gannets and seals.

We visited Henllys Iron Age reconstructed village and Cilgerran Castle. There was a bit of scrambling about in ruins.

The next day we took a boat trip along the coast of Skomer Island, home to thousands of puffins, guillemots and razorbills. Afterwards, we went for a five-mile hike around a nearby rocky promontory.

That night I said to Nigel, 'Funny thing, but the last two days my knees have been perfectly fine.'

So next morning there we were, back on the coast path again, knees very firmly strapped. 

Because we had already booked our lodgings the logic of the trip meant we carried on not from where we stopped before, but from where we should have been. Meaning that one day we may feel compelled to return and fill in a two day gap near Fishguard. 

But as it is, I'm just happy we got back on the path.

Fun puffins

When my knees let me down and we abandoned our coastal walk, I said to Nigel, 'I remember you telling me about labrador dogs who train to be guide dogs for the blind. Some of them prove unsuitable and appear to live with a sense of failure ever after. Having dropped out of our walk I feel like one of those dogs.'

Nigel scratched his head to think what would cheer me up. 

He booked a boat trip to see the puffins nesting on Skomer Island.

There is nothing more cheering than a puffin. 

Like clockwork bath toys they bobbed in the waves with their clown beaks. Even better was when they flew, each flight so lacking in competence that it looked like it must be the first, their bright red feet stuck out at an ungainly angle, as if longing to land. 

So yes, the puffins made me smile, but even more cheering was the fact that they were part of a healthy colony.

The colony at Skomer is very successful as it is sited in a small no-catch zone where fishing is banned, as advocated by David Attenborough in his recent film, Ocean, and there is plenty for them to eat.

If we had more zones like that, my smile would run from ear to ear! 

With thanks to Graeme for his puffin photo. 

Things that go bump in the night

One of the drawbacks of walking a long distance path is it's a new hotel each night. 

You don't get to know the place before you move on again. In particular, you don't get a feel for where the little glass shelf in the en suite is.

So when at 4am I went to the bathroom for some water and thought I was putting my glass down safely, I wasn't.  It crashed to the tiles. 

'Crap.'

I began the painstaking process of picking up fragments. Awake now, Nigel decided to join in the fun and when we had collected all visible shards, he used the bathmat to wipe the area.

Since there were then tiny crumbs of glass in the mat, he opened the window and shook it. A gust took it. 

He dressed to go downstairs and pick the mat off the pavement. But when he got there, no mat. He looked up to see it draped inelegantly over one corner of the hotel's imposing portico, out of reach. 

Yet another corner of Britain where we have left our mark.

Pembrokeshire Coast Path with knees!

In 2022 we walked Hadrian's Wall. Beforehand I was apprehensive - my various arthritic joints wouldn't hold up. But despite ominous twinges, they did. Same story with the South Downs Way last year. 

So when Nigel planned a large section of the North Pembrokeshire coast path, I grumbled again - the Cassandra of the achey knees.

However, he'd soon booked it, all planned in meticulous detail. We were going, and my knees were coming with us. 

Unfortunately, the first day was going to be the hardest with what the guidebook said would be 14 miles of distance, but turned out more like 16. And moreover was 1240 metres of ascent, and then the same of descent - almost as much as Ben Nevis. 

It was the descent which really did it, and despite knee straps and walking poles and Nigel carrying the day sack, I was limping badly for the last four miles. 

However, once I recover, I'll try again!

Oh dear, we shall just have to be tourists for a couple of days. In scenic Pembrokeshire. What a burden.

When a hobby comes to find you

 

I’ve always had plenty of greenery in my house, but I would never have called pot plants a hobby.  They are just part of the household, and we get along fine together.  A bit like Nigel.

However, recently Perran left to live in Brussels.  Pot plants very much had been his hobby, but rules forbade the import of his green friends to Belgium. I volunteered to caretake some of his large collection until the day he returns.

His plants are different to mine.  I am ignorant of the names of most of mine as they are propagated from bits friends gave me, or kind donations from the odd stately-home conservatory (‘I tell you, that bit was just lying on the floor!’).

Perran’s darlings however have Latin names and very specific care regimes on their pots.  Also, because he had been preparing to move abroad, they had been somewhat neglected and appeared lacklustre and gloomy.

I took home ten of the fading beauties, and have been repotting and repositioning ever since.  How can a plant demand both bright light, but also not want it ‘direct’?  One plant loves nothing more than wet roots, while another should be kept Sahara-dry.

Generously, Perran has said he does not mind if not all his plants make it.  The only one he really cares about is a crassula (jade plant) which I gave him as a tiny sprout when he first left to live in London.  Through several moves and changes of job, he has nurtured this companion, and like his life, it has grown big and strong.  This is the one he most hopes will be there to greet him when he returns.   I’ll do my best.

Well, I can’t write any more now – I need to get back to my new hobby.