Its been quite on the travels front, work and weather getting in the way. But after almost a month being tethered to the house because of the storms and rain we escaped today. The weather forecast for the coast was windy, cloudy but no rain. But the rain was lashing down against the windows this morning when I got up, and more in hope than expectation we headed down to Ogmore, with the intention of completing a little more of the coastal path towards Dunraven Bay. There were a few brave souls down on the beach at Ogmore, but as we climbed the cliffs there were very, very few people about. That might have been due to the winds in excess of 30 miles an hour, and a pretty bleak outlook. Maybe walking along high sea cliffs in a high wind might not have been the best idea we’ve had, but it certainly cleared the lungs!
Everywhere you go in Wales you will find a dry stone wall. And you don’t get many as straight as this one.
Some of the paths along here can be a little narrow, and at times it can be difficult to determine if you are following a sheep path or a footpath. After managing a passable impression of a mountain goat, Aunty decided that this was indeed a sheep path and didn’t fancy following it over the cliff so we had to find another way!
There is something mesmeric about huge waves crashing into sea cliffs. The thundering waves smash into the immovable rocks creating unique patterns each time they come to a shuddering stop.
Having reached Dunraven Bay we hunkered down behind a wall to refuel with a roll and a welcome cup of tea. Dun raven originally housed a big house, which was eventually pulled down after the war. The walled garden still remains, including the gate house but nothing much else remains that would shout about the money that once resided here. But my favourite is this small thatched cottage hiding in the lee of a small hill.
After lunch the clouds gathered again and the wind starting picking up. The light was poor and wasn’t much use for photography. All my attempts at the seagulls hanging in the air were poor silhouettes. However I did manage a few passable photos of the oystercatchers on the beach.
That said the light did keep on changing and at times shimmered off the sea between crashing waves.
I certainly hope the fisherman caught something for his supper. He deserves it for braving the gales.
After this bracing walk it was back home and I felt I had earned my opportunity to lounge by the log fire and watch Newport Dragons beat Munster at rugby.