Landslips and stormfalls

By some strange miracle, it proved quick and easy to find a day when both my sons and I were free for our annual day out to Devon, so off we went, a lot earlier in the summer than is usually the case.

We were overdue a visit to Dawlish and Dawlish Warren, as the last couple of years we've headed south along the sea wall from Holcombe to Teignmouth and Shaldon, but the storm damage to the pier and the landslip on the Ness from earlier in the year had to be viewed for ourselves, so once again we set off down Smugglers Lane with a very happy little collie. 

The weather was overcast, but it wasn't too hot or wet so we were thankful.

Half way along the sea wall at Sprey Point and I've already got wet feet

The biggest flat top shell I've ever found, albeit with a broken point

We had a very pleasant lunch at The View, the cafe on the ground floor of Pavilions, which I visited for the first time last year to hear Raymond Antrobus read.

It was only the very end section of the pier that got washed away ...

... and the remainder is still open, so Sons the Elder and Younger went on to play The Tuck Shop slot machine - which was my favourite when I was a kid, back in the simpler 1960s, as well as one of theirs too - but it's not there anymore.

Even from Teignmouth, you can see the big red scrage down the dear cheek of the Ness caused by the landslip in March.

We crossed the estuary via the ferry. As further landslips can't be ruled out this soon after the first, the coast path around the  Ness headland is closed, so we couldn't walk it, and instead headed up through the village to the beach beyond the road bridge.

It was good to get a distance glimpse of Buckland Beacon and Rippon Tor on Dartmoor. 

Then Son the Elder did his customary walk across the bridge and around to the ice cream shop in Teignmouth, where Son the Younger and I met him after walking back down the river beach and crossing the river by ferry.

Sadly, our ice creams were less than impressive this visit, the customarily huge dollop of clotted cream atop our cornets now reduced to a smear, so we agreed we would visit Gay's in Dawlish next time for a proper Devon treat. (I've just got to get over the shock of the brutalist replacement sea wall that so disfigures the coast there in the meantime.)

Return to Merthyr Mawr and the Sirhowy Valley

One thing that has occasionally irked me these last two years was my failed attempt in 2024 to complete a triangular walk in the lanes and through the fields at the back of the pretty village of Merthyr Mawr in the far west of the Vale of Glamorgan, so when I noticed the same walk described in a different walk book I have, only in the reverse direction, I decided to have another go.

When Cwtch and I arrived at Candleston, it was to find a film shoot in progress somewhere near by, with a large section of the car park taped off, but there was no one about, so we slipped through and set off up the stony lane towards Candleston Farm.

Our route then took us along the edge of a wheatfield, following an old wall. So far, so good.

It was at this point that the path petered out and the directions in the book became very complicated. I felt, briefly, doomed to fail again.

We passed a fallen ash tree ...

... and some very curious young heifers, who were thankfully in an adjoining field.

hedge woundwort coming into bloom

Eventually we made our way to a tree-lined track, the trees being low and requiring me to duck under them. Past a farm and we were headed back down a long lane and along the road from Merthyr Mawr to the car park. We had completed the walk. The car park was still taped off, though, and there were more people about, so I decided not to hang about in the hope of re-visiting Candleston castle, but instead headed for nearby Traeth Yr Afon with Cwtch. This is one of the Porthcawl beaches and I was last there in  February 2019 with Son the Younger, although I've often seen it from the other side of the River Ogmore.

Sand Viper's Gloss

Small restharrow

It looks very pleasant in the photos, but actually the weather wasn't unlike something you might experience in February - at least, the wind was. I'd hoped to get to the end of the beach, where the River Ogmore meets the sea, but progress was slow and we had to turn back just before we reached it, staggering back to the car looking like extras from 'Lawrence of Arabia'.

A good day, apart from the £14 I had to pay in car parking charges, which is a scandal, frankly.

The following day, we went back to the Sirhowy valley, just outside Newport, where we did a short walk last year. I sort of had it in my head to do the longer route, but then I remembered how Son the Younger had tried walking it when he lived in Risca and the path petered out and he had to break his way back down the side of the valley, so settled for walking up and down the disused railway instead. 

honeysuckle and foxglove

foxgloves in every direction

hemlock water dropwort

Cwtch being very brave and paddling by herself

bluetit feather

Looking down on the River Sirhowy

Wall lettuce ... 

... and its wall

wood hawkweed

Down by the Sirhowy

And just like that, the two weeks of Severn tunnel maintenance were over, and hopefully - unless it floods or there are more strikes - my driving the Northerner to work is done for another year. Hwyl fawr, Cymru.

A visit to Margam Country Park

The second week of the Severn Tunnel being closed was a good ten degrees cooler than the preceding one, so rather than do two round trips on the days I was due to take the Northerner to work, I decided to stay out all day with the dog and give her some really good walks. The first day we visited Margam Country Park, on the outskirts of Port Talbot.

Margam promised so many of my favourite things ... but didn't always deliver. For instance, I love old ruins, and Margam Abbey - which before the Reformation was the richest monastic house in Wales - has mightily impressive ones, only sadly they were fenced off. And yes, I know it's important to keep visitors safe, but I only really get a sense of a place when I can touch it. 

The Chapter House

The 12th century nave of the Cistercian Abbey still exists; it serves as the parish church and is dedicated to St Mary. Cwtch was very happy to be allowed inside ...

... and so was I, because it has stained glass I wanted to see. The 1904 East window, by James Powell of Whitefriars, is stunning, but the Morris & Co lights in the west wall, designed by Burne Jones, were all but impossible to see, owing to unfortunate arrangements of lighting, both engineered and natural.

The 16th and 17th century marble tombs of the Mansel family

The 12th century monastic fish pond

There was also a museum containing nearly thirty inscribed stones and crosses, some of considerable antiquity, which I would have loved to visit, but it would have meant leaving Cwtch in the car, and I didn't want to do that.  

The 19th century Gothic mansion known as Margam Castle, which is now used for events

The Drinker Moth caterpillar

There's a hill fort in the grounds too, and hill forts are also one of my favourite things, so before starting our walk, I decided to walk up to the top to take in the view. But it was a murky day - above, the view of the sea - and it was all overgrown with bracken, so you couldn't get to, or even see, the top. Around the back of the hill, there was an impression of ditches and banks, but it was all a bit disappointing.

The grounds also contained very many rhododendrons. (I dislike rhododendrons.)

We set off up a valley, following the route of St Illtyd's Way. 

After a time, our route took us over a stone stile and up a steep, rocky path to a conifer plantation ... 

... before the final leg back to the castle and ruins via the upper deer park. It was unseasonably cold and blustery: a complete contrast from the extreme heat of the previous week.

En route we encountered this wonderful, ancient ash tree, and I thought how easy it is to be dismissive when you're a casual visitor: if I lived nearby and visited often, I'd get to make friends with all the amazing trees that are undoubtedly to be found in the park.

The Bro Stone: an amazing viewpoint on a clear day!

Looking towards Port Talbot

The Yew Dragon, carved by Nansi Heming

'Shout' by Glynn Williams

We only got to spot any deer as we were driving out of Margam - they were safely in the lower park, away from Cwtch, who'd been kept on the lead in case we had encountered them. All in all, a bit of a curate's egg, really, Margam, though not helped on this day by the weather and the fact I lacked a dog-sitter. Maybe I'll be back one day, maybe I won't.