MERTHYR MAWR - ABERAVON, JANUARY 27TH 2023
MERTHYR MAWR - ABERAVON, JANUARY 27TH 2023
Another cold one, Merthyr Mawr in the morning is like biting into an ice cube! Big thanks to my sister for the drop-off but talk about a brainfart moment. Phone? Missing in action. Back we go, the car humming with laughter at my forgetfulness. An hour later, my phone clutched tighter than a winning lottery ticket, I'm finally off!
A quick road walk, then bam, Merthyr Mawr Nature Reserve. Europe's second largest sand dune, the Big Dipper, looms like a sleepy giant.
Around the bend, the path dipped, then broadened, revealing a vista that sent a ripple of pure joy through me. It wasn't just a beach; it was how I dreamt the walk would be. Sweet honey coloured sand, soft as icing sugar, shimmered under the low morning sun, spanning like a welcoming towel to the edge of the sea. In rhythmic sets, the playful yet forceful waves rolled toward shore, each crest whispering secrets to the shore in a language only my sun-warmed soul could understand.
This was it, the reason I'd decided to walk this path, all that was missing was the flying fish jumping over the rainbow and a unicorn galloping along the beach. This would have been my dream. Each breath felt like a conscious choice, a deliberate filling of my lungs with pure beach air, chasing away the cobwebs and filling the hollow corners of my being with the essence of this coastal paradise. In that moment, adrift on a sea of sand and serenity, I understood why I'd signed up for this – not just for the escape, but for the rediscovery of a simpler rhythm, a deeper connection to the pulse of the earth and the song of the sea. On this beach, bathed in sunlight and embraced by the ocean's endless lullaby, I didn't just exist; I thrived.
Trecco Bay, Porthcawl – all names that roll off the tongue like a surfer's lullaby. Coney Amusement Park brings a burst of civilization – pavements, boardwalks, even prams and wheelchairs strolling on for miles in the sunshine. Kenfig Nature Reserve next, a green jewel behind the ochre sands.
Then reality bites. Margam Moors, a turn across some train tracks, then an industrial estate that wouldn't look out of place in a Batman movie. I get to the M4 and the Coast Path offers choices, I choose an urban adventure: it has to be quicker than a mountain walk, right? So, it's grey and grimy streets all the way to Aberavon beachfront. Sun sinking low, casting long shadows, makes the contrast between grimy concrete and pristine sand even starker. But you know what?
Even here, with the sea breeze swirling and the waves bellowing their welcome, I feel a smile grow across my face. Every step, every stumble, every detour – it's all part of the adventure. Next time, there's a whole new chuck of coastline waiting to be explored and I can see most of it from here.
This page is from my book, "The Edge of Wales." To discover more about my journey along the Wales Coast Path, copies are available for purchase—a perfect Christmas gift for the armchair adventurer.