Coastwalk

Llantwit Beach → Cadoxton

Distance: 16.7 miles
Ascent: 370 metres
Duration: 5 hours 13 minutes

South Wales
« Wick | Cardiff »

Rhoose Point - half-way along this walk - is as far south as you can get on mainland Wales. Its status as the country's most southerly point is marked by a tall slate monument that has attracted more than its fair share of graffiti since its erection five years ago. Rhoose itself is pushing south towards the Point, new housing estates extending into the abandoned quarries along the coast.

Barry - towards the end of the walk - is clearly a suburb of Cardiff. Once more new buildings abound, particularly in the dock areas where wide roads await the coming traffic.

My journey back to the car in Llantwit Major cements this area's reputation of fresh development. A month or so ago a new rail service started linking Barry, Rhoose and Llantwit. I can't think of anywhere else outside London that new railways are being built in the UK.

Tomorrow's walk will take me right through the centre of Cardiff where presumably the construction I've seen today would appear small-scale.

Coastwalk

Wick → Llantwit Beach

Distance: 7.10 miles
Ascent: 244 metres
Duration: 2 hours 28 minutes

Detour
« Porthcawl | Cadoxton »

Between Cwm Bach and Cwm Nash there is no right of way along the cliff-tops. Instead the coastpath detours inland along a lane south-west of the village of Wick.

I followed this detour in the pouring rain last week and today I resumed in starkly contrasting weather. However it looks as though the cliff-top route is accessible - despite not being marked on the map - and I advise anyone following to take that path. It'll save a couple of miles, and avoid the gauntlet run of two fields of sheep and four of very inquisitive cows.

The rest of the walk is on the turf above beautiful yellow cliffs, punctuated occasionally with opulent estates. Tomorrow I expect all that will change.

Greenbelt

The best seat

By the end of this evening's feedback session, one thing was clear to me: the Big Screen relaying Stage 1 events to the Arena crowd has been a huge success. It even gets the Royal seal of appeal.

(That's Gilles Peterson the Queen Mum's watching, by the way.)

Greenbelt

Vulnerable

I shed a tear this morning. During the Communion service when Karen and Paul announced that Greenbelt expected to finally be out of debt by the end of the festival, the crowd applauded.

The service was on the new North Stage, built outside our traditional festival site. It looks like a promising location for more events to me.

Another moment of vulnerability came yesterday. Pip asked everyone to tell someone how they felt, being here. I feel lonely. It's always an odd one, and not something to dwell on. It's an odd sense, feeling alone while at the same time being totally at home.

Greenbelt

The new Tiny T

It looks like we've finally figured out how to draw people to the arena area: relocate the Tiny Tea Tent. Add a big screen and P.A. that relays Stage One activities, garnish with a few market stalls and you've got the perfect chill-out area.

Greenbelt

Across the racetrack

Some minor tweaks here. The main walkway across the site is much sturdier and slightly re-aligned. But best: it's stunningly decked out with fluttering flags.

Greenbelt

The eve of the festival

I arrived on site this morning, and have been almost non-stop since. I don't think there'll be time to blog much, but I'll try to take some pictures of the things that have changed for this year's Greenbelt Festival.

Here's the new Organic Beer Tent full of volunteers full of anticipation for the weekend. This place is going to be busy!

Coastwalk

Porthcawl → Wick

Distance: 12.4 miles
Ascent: 569 metres
Duration: 4 hours 24 minutes

The tranquil garden
« Port Talbot | Llantwit Beach »

When I set off this morning I had no idea where I'd finish the walk. Three uncertainties gave rise to this: the weather, a long stretch of sand dunes, and where to cross the Afon Ogwr.

Beyond the caravan parks on the east side of Porthcawl, the Merthyr Mawr Warren dune system extends to the Afon Ogwr. The high tide stopped me from walking along the sea-front so I set out through the dune system. Walking through dunes can be very disconcerting. The map reveals absolutely no detail for the area, yet all around you are ten, twenty metre high hills and a network of paths. The trick is to gain high ground and look to the horizon for a landmark to walk towards. That said, a tangle of sand and grass doesn't make easy progress.

I was thwarted by the next obstacle - crossing the Ogmore. A combination of the tide and the volume of water running off the hills into the river conspired to hide the stepping stones beside Ogmore Castle. By the time I eventually reached the other bank, that final hindrance was in full swing. Contrary to my thoughts, the bad weather had not passed overnight - very quickly I was soaked.

All this hassle vanished though in the surprising delight of Dunraven Park. Looking at the map now I can see the walled garden, but until I opened the gate I'd not known of it. The Victorian Walled garden was the final transformation of these few days. It took a wet, tired walker and blessed him with tranquility.

Ask me in a week's time what the enduring memory of the walk was and I'll have forgotten all about the dunes, the river and the rain. It will all be about the garden.

Coastwalk

Port Talbot → Porthcawl

Distance: 12.2 miles
Ascent: 230 metres
Duration: 4 hours 9 minutes

Further transformations
« Swansea | Wick »

A passenger on the bus this morning told me that the Port Talbot was built on steel and coal. As I walked past the Corus plant I remembered his tale that the steelworks now puts out more and better quality steel than ever before, yet employs fewer people.

The reward for the five mile industrial landscape is Kenfig Sands. I'd intended on following the rights of way through the dunes but missed the path and found myself instead on the shore just as the tide started to recede.

From here to Porthcawl almost the entire walk was along sandy beaches, interrupted only by a couple of rocky outcrops and a short splash across the Afon Cynfig. (It turns out my boots are still waterproof.)

Porthcawl itself is a lovely spot. The Coast book describes it as "a former coal port that has reinvented itself as a seaside resort". What I've seen suggests the transformation is successful and complete.

But in the B&B where I'm staying there's a poster that reads, "For every pit closed: another village dies". Perhaps this is the hint that below the surface the reconstruction continues to hurt.

Coastwalk

Swansea → Port Talbot

Distance: 11.0 miles
Ascent: 232 metres
Duration: 3 hours 12 minutes

Finished, unfinished
« Pennard Cliffs | Porthcawl »

Swansea is heading east. While the coastline towards The Mumbles is well established, one you cross the Tawe the mood changes immediately. The post-industrial land here is working hard to transform itself into something new, pregnant with possibility but not yet ready to reveal what the child will look like.

So east Swansea looks unfinished. In between the patches of wasteland are new tree-lined avenues, boutique hotels and the occasional office block complete with running fountain. This is a place to come back to in a year's time. (My guess: marinas, flats and wine bars.)

Eventually the path meets the sea again at Aberavon Sands. Like the beach south of Tywyn, this one is impossibly empty given the time of year. Its vast expanse means there's no need for wind-shields or other artificial walls that divide up busy beaches. Here everyone's guaranteed at least an acre of their own, complete with flock of seagulls for entertainment.

At the end of the beach the industry begins once more with a port somehow holding out against closure. If closure eventually comes it'll be bitter-sweet. The transformation of our ports from heavy industry to leisure facilities seems unstoppable, but at least it opens up more of the coastline for walking.

Personal

The village school

A wrong turn in Tregaron on my way down to South Wales took me past the village.

I suspect there was tutting behind twitching curtains as yet another tourist stopped to take this photograph of the sign on the village school. But hey, you just have to don't you?

Coastwalk

Tywyn → Aberdyfi

Distance: 4.22 miles
Ascent: 103 metres
Duration: 1 hour 54 minutes

Replaying The Ashes
« Barmouth | Dovey Junction »

Yesterday's walk started thirty miles south of Aberystwyth. Today's started thirty miles to the north. Pretty soon we'll have run out of walks within a day's reach of Emma's home.

The wide, flat, sandy shore between Tywyn and Aberdyfi gives views of Happy Valley to the east, with glimpses of Cadair Idris in the distance. Back on the beach, cricket games outnumbered football by four to one. The English on holiday, or locals trying out for a new Welsh team?

Ceredigion Coast Path , Coastwalk

New Quay → Pigeonsford

Distance: 7.00 miles
Ascent: 400 metres
Duration: 2 hours 57 minutes

The Cardi Bach
« Aberaeron | Aberporth »

We cut the very end of today's walk short. Instead of circling the hill fort of Pendinaslorhdyn we followed the road from Pigeonsford into Llangranog: we were short of time and would be stuck if we missed the Cardi Bach.

The minibus was driven by the chattiest driver in Wales. I asked if the village-hopping Cardi Bach service ever got busy. "It's busy now," he said - we were the only two passengers.

All the way back to New Quay we learnt about the coastline we'd just walked. Of the seals who'd be hiding from the tourists, the listed tin building, the old quarry workings and of the German submarine.

"I swear it's true," he said. "Or at least, the local who told me swore it was true." Sometime during the First World War a German U-boat surfaced and shook the salty Irish Sea off its flanks in the tiny cove at Cwmtydu. Too tired to re-enact the spirited defence of Carregwastad Point the villagers instead invited the would-be invaders in for tea and cake.

Greenbelt

V

Another landmark in the year - an indication that Greenbelt's close - is the V Festival. I sometimes see the tops of the marquees at the Chelmsford site from London train.

This year I was taken a little by surprise: I passed AA signs to the festival just outside Birmingham. I'd almost forgotten there was a second site, halfway across the country.

V looks to be getting mixed weather this year. Here's hoping Cheltenham is dry next weekend.

Greenbelt

Decisions, decisions

You know what this means, don't you?

I either need:
a) a bigger car; or
b) a simpler lifestyle.

Tech

Managing expectations

"The company that provide our website caught a virus that infected every single one of the sites they run. They've lost everything."

The strangest thing about this statement was the face that delivered it. I'd asked what had happened to a local company's web presence and was provided this explanation with a shrug and a smile that said, "life's like that".

It wasn't the smug smirk of a technophobe. (Though the following comment drew attention to their entirely mechanical ticket machine.) Computer viruses now seem to be so commonplace that people expect to be infected at some point.

The amazing trick is that the web hosting company seems to have persuaded their client that websites are similarly vulnerable, that backups are an optional luxury, that - hey - bad things happen.

If you're paying for a web presence, there's absolutely no reason to accept this. At a push I'll allow for a site falling over under attack, but I would be disappointed if it wasn't back up within twenty-four hours.

Don't let geeks manage your expectations down. If the web is a vital communications channel for you, there's no excuse for amateur service. And get this: you don't have to pay much to get it.

Ask your hosting company about their backup and recovery processes. If they look blankly, run away.

Arts

Film: War of the Worlds

War of the Worlds is a film without a soul. It's stuffed full with action but half an hour in I found myself bored and disinterested. Like The Phantom of the Opera nothing lives up to the promise of the first five minutes.

Morgan Freeman's the best thing in the film. He narrates it. Or rather, he provides the opening and the closing speeches: both lifted almost word-for-word from H.G.Wells' original novel. Morgan Freeman's calm, authoritative voice is the perfect vessel to tell us how "slowly and surely they drew their plans against us".

Sadly everything else is filler.

Greenbelt

Back to the farm

Yes, it's that time of year again.

I've been doing this long enough that you should know the drill by now.

the stone.

I'm officially allowed to get excited about the festival now. It looks like it's set to be another great one. Are you coming?

Greenbelt

Airing the tent

Today's lesson: my tent is only marginally smaller than my house.

In my bedroom I've had to move all the furniture to one side so I can erect the inner; downstairs the lounge is now divided by the gently airing outer.

Fingers crossed I won't get up in a hurry in the night - the bed is now precariously close to the stairs.

The tent has been unused for two or three years. As to whether it's still waterproof, the latest forecasts suggest that won't be tested.

Comment

National holiday

I've been working recently with a team in Pune. I'm learning lots.

For example, today the team has the day off since it's a national holiday in India. I asked the UK-based co-ordinator what the event was. "Independence Day," he said, the corner of his mouth turning upwards briefly with the hint of a smile.

Well fair enough. It's a good thing to celebrate.

I'm left wondering about dependence, independence and co-dependence. I'm happy working with Posted by pab at 17:57 | Comments will be back later in the year. Please email me instead!