Third day

It’s been a hard day of walking. Up and down hills. Repeatedly. A mile feels a long way on a coastal path. I feel fitter and more tired, if that’s possible. I left the hotel later. (Went back with the key. Again.) I enjoyed taking with people in the hotel: there was a delightful family from Derry. Amongst the many things we shared was the absurdity of only having celibate priests. They also spoke of the limitations for a celibate priesthood addressing difficulties in married life. But mainly we talked about schools, children, names, food and stuff like that.

I left New Quay mid-morning, having first chatted to Anna and the boys on my phone. As a spoke with them, a dolphin was playing in the bay, some two hundred yards from me. And around me was the quiet confusion and peace of families on holiday, wondering what to do here. And the welcome of the locals.

I stopped for lunch in Cwmtudu, with its little sandy beach in the cove. And as elsewhere on this stretch of Coast there were permanent caravans. Do they take away from the tranquility of this place? I think they just share it, more people able to enjoy what this place to offer. I had a cup of coffee from a mobile van in the valley. It brought me up short. To make it (a latte, what else?) they took out a machine from the cupboard and then started a generator to power it. I am both humbled, impressed and troubled by this simple act of making me a coffee. It was good coffee but the costliness of it goes beyond the money I paid for it.

The next section of path was closed due to a landslide. I followed the diversion, up, up and up a long steep road. The river was called Afon Ffynnon Dewi – river of St David’s well. The diversion put me in the path of my pilgrimage. Then I got a bit thrown by the temporary path signs: the way didn’t feel right (wrong side of the road). I called at a house for directions? Turned out it was Y Ficerdy (The Vicarage.) And I’d met briefly met the Vicar and his wife, Trevor and Davina, when were working at Marygate House on Lindisfarne a couple of years ago. Small world.

They showed me the medieval Pilgrim’s Well opposite their home. And shared with me the story of their local Celtic Saint, Carranog. I left feeling much more of a pilgrim. To talk with strangers and receive their hospitality. To be tired by the journey, struggling with the land as I cross it yet feel more alive, more connected. To hold that sense of continuity with the pilgrims of past generations, and their connected world. I am starting to be open to more in myself and in others around me. A little more open, anyway.

Tonight I am enjoying the warm hospitality of the Cliffe Hotel in Aberporth – and the best meal I have had since I began walking!