Crashing waves, hidden caves and gripping beauty - Walking the South Gower Coastline.

Back in July 2016 I decided I wanted to walk to the small seaside village of Oxwich from my mothers home in the city of Swansea, following the road network down to the beach of Swansea Bay, along the coastline around Mumbles Head, Bracelet Bay, Pwll Du and further on. There is something enchanting about the southern coastline of the Gower Peninsula, it's filled with amazing natural beauty, history of knights, princes, princesses and even smugglers as well as stories of myths, legends and Welsh folklore, it was certainly a place I needed to get my trekking boots in.

In this blog I will try and tell you as much of the stories as possible of the stories through history, from the myths to the legends.

It was a cold summer morning on 18th July 2016, which is not strange at all for the UK to have cold summer mornings, the clouds were low leaving the hills around Swansea covered in a fog, drizzle would tip tap on my face and a cold breeze swished it's way through the sleepy streets of Swansea, it was certainly a miserable start to the adventure, but I didn't let it put me off, you should experience countries how they are, if it is snowy go out in the snow, if it is hot, go out in the sun but in the case of Wales, it is mostly wet and rainy, so go out in the rain and experience it.

I stopped off at a garage shop to buy myself some snacks for the journey, the man behind the counter looked at me with a face of confusion, I had a big rucksack on and a tent dangling from the bottom, "are you off camping then?" he asked, I looked at him thinking, 'haven't you not noticed my tent' he looked at the weather outside the window, still low clouds, rain and cold, "lovely day for camping" he shouted across the shop floor.

Cutting through Sketty and Dunvant I had made it to the coastline of Swansea Bay, the sea was far out leaving a trail of puddles dotted across the sands of Swansea beach, to the west was the city of Swansea where I could see some of the taller buildings of the city in the mist, to the east was the victorian seaside of Mumbles, the startline of the Gower Peninsula, I pulled my rucksack over my shoulder, took a deep breath and said to myself, 'here we go then.'

Mumbles Head which is a rather high rocky hill that sits behind the village of Mumbles was hidden away by the cloud, the wind would rattle the ropes of the boats that dot the sea front causing a constant clanking sound, the seagulls sang 'good morning' with a loud qwuak and the shutters of the businesses were opening ready to start a day of work, as I stood there on the tip of the coastline of the Mumbles area, I had a panoramic view of Swansea Bay and the Bristol Channel, the city had almost disappeared in the far distance across the choppy waters, Mumbles lighthouse stood in silence and a head of me was what was yet to come, the muddy dirt track that goes up, down and around bends of the coastline.

Legend

Below the lighthouse is a cave called 'Bob's Cave' in January 1883 Bob Jenkins was a member of the Mumbles Lifeboat crew, but after a disasterous rescue attempt he was found sheltering in the cave for two days therefore calling th cave 'Bob's Cave.' It is possible to enter the cave but only at low tide with extreme caution of the fast incoming sea during high tide.

Bracelet Bay was below me, a rather rocky, brown beach, the waves would crash over the rocks refilling the rockpools which must of been teaming with life. The track around this small section of the coastline is rather easy and uneventful, it is easy because of the high number of tourist who come here every year to explore the coastline, I saw some seals resting on the rocks, sleeping in a little crevis and some seagulls flying above my head but that was it really, the village of Caswell was my next destination, a very touristy village, it was safe to say not many tourists were out this morning, in fact it was just full of local dog walkers and elderly couples arm in arm taking a lovely morning stroll. "Were are you heading to lad" asked a rather elderly man in a flat hat, "I am heading to Oxwich" I replied with a chirpy smile across my face, his wife quickly replied "you have chosen a great day for your walk", we spoke for while talking about the coastline and how they were enjoying their holiday in Swansea, but time was ticking and I needed to head further across the coastline, I decided to cut across the beach of Caswell just to feel the sand beneath my boots and I thought it would make it more interesting than walking on the concrete path with the other people, the cliff ahead of me looked high and daunting but I couldn't wait to tackle it to see what was on the other side.

Buttercups, gorse and brample decorated the path ahead of me, Caswell slowly became a smudge in the mist and my mothers warm home felt like a distant memory now I could see the real path; quiet, wild and wonderful, the brown dirt path zig zagged further ahead, I couldn't even see the end as it goes into the low grey mist, the hill that I would follow around on my right was high and the coastline on my left was rocky, the sound of the waves was eerie as everything else was still and silent.

Brandy Cove is a beach that is mostly covered in rocks as well as some sand, it is rather hard for tourist to get here unless they want to walk across the coastline, there are no shops, villages in fact there is nothing here which made it a so pleasing, it was just natural beauty, from the beach to the green hills that surround it.

Legend

Given it's name 'Brandy Cove' it kind of gives you an idea what might of gone on here many years ago, it was once the hub for smuggling activity, the beach of Brandy Cove was used to smuggle in illicit cargo of tobaco and alcohol.

Supernatural

There are two stories of ghosts in Brandy Cove, one of 'Old Moll' who was said to have made her home in the caves of Brandy Cove, she spent most of her time wandering the farms and villages of the local area, she was known for being a cursed witch, whenever she travelled through a farm, the cattle would all get sick and anyone who saw her would have bad luck, and one story says that a chiled was laughing at her ragged clothes so she plagued him with the crullest of nightmares, the people of the Gower we so scared of Old Moll that people collected some silver coins, went to a blacksmiths and turrned them into silver bullets, headed to Brandy Cove and discovered her on one of the Gower's many commons, they fired but she managed to survive, she swiftly left the Gower and her evilness was no more.

Mamie Stuart is a more recent supernatural story from a murder in 1919, haunting whaling sounds were heard coming from the caves, where a couple said it sounded like a womans scream, people were scared to go to the beach at night, but in 1961 some youth decided to get to the bottom of this story, they explored the caves of Brandy Cove, behind a boulder to an old lead mine, they discovered the gruesome remains of a skeleton, this was the body of Mamie Stuart, after the murdered remains of Mamie was discovered the whaling screams had stopped and the caves remain silent to this day.

The walk past Brandy Cove gets a little bit more wilder, the path takes you away from the tourist traps towards Caswell Bay and Mumbles and takes you into the real Gower, where the local people enjoy the quietness instead of the city life like their fellow neighbours of Swansea City, it felt like a totally different world standing high on the cliff top looking down at Pwll Du (Welsh: Blackpool), it was silent, still and grey, the white pepples on Pwll Du beach seperate the sand and the grassy area, a few heards of sheep and horses were chewing on the wet grass and a small little white cottage stood in the background, the person who lives here certainly does love the quieter lifestyle, making my way down the path to the beach, you could hear the waves rolling onto the beach, the white stones nearly blocks your view of the sea, the sounds of the sheep gave it a farm feeling, the birds tweeting in the trees of the surrounding valley just made me feel like I have escaped my everyday life, even though I am still in Swansea County and less than a 30 minute drive away from home, I felt so far away and I was loving it.

I took a rest on a cold, wet wooden bench in Pwll Du and watched the horses as they walk slowly along the grass on the other side of this small river, a fellow walker walked passed and we exchanged conversation about the route ahead of me, he gave me good ideas of certain sites to look out for, I already knew about these sites but I was just carrying on so there was no akward silence.

The day was ticking away and I needed to press on to catch as much daylight hours as possible. the path takes you back up another high cliff, it was starting to take a toll on my body going up and down high cliffs, this is my third one, I hadn't really trained prior to this adventure, but I just wanted to do it before I had to leave my home country again, but like always the determination to see what it was like on the other side kept pushing me forward. The trail was so high that my head was literally in a cloud, the path behind me had disappeard and as I stood on top of the cliff looking down to the sea, you could sea the cloud actually swirling around the wind, it was sensational to watch this strange movement, it was as if a ghost was moving before my very eyes.

The path takes you through farm land which cling to the edge of the fields, but the edges were boggy and full of muddy water and was a much longer route rather than going straight across the field, I decided to break one of the rules of coastal path walking and went on to the private land just to save time and to make sure I don't slip in the mud, they couldn't expect me to walk through it, not when the field was empty, so with a haste I did a little run across the field keeping an eye out for any farmer (or his dogs).

I had to go through another wooden gate that slammed shut behind me, the sound felt like it had travelle for miles and that I had woken the sleepy Gower Peninsula, a horse watched me from the other side of the fence, he was a fairly large brown and white horse who kinda blended in to the misty background around him, his head followed as I made my way down the trail and again through another wooden gate.

The cloud had started to lift later in the afternoon, the sun peered into my eyes as the magnificent view of the coast grew larger in front of my very eyes, I was heading into the village of Southgate, it was starting to get more touristy again now with old aged pensioners and families arriving in numbers to the car parks of this little village, I took a rest

on one of the wooden benches, my shoulders felt like they were on fire as the weight of the rucksack was starting to put pressure on the muscles; "are you camping there tonight?" called out a fairly elder man, again I told him what I was doing and he started reminiscing about his younger days, that is one of the beautiful qualities about adventures like this, people are willing to stop and talk to me, if I had arrived in a car like the other people they were ignored but here I was with a big rucksack, coat and a tent, looking rather out of place.

I knew I was getting closer to the most photographed corner of the Gower and that is 'Three Cliffs Bay', I followed the trail alond the upper part of the cliffs so I ccould get a panoramic view of the cliffs, it wasn't as easy as I thought it would be, looking at what was to come, I could see that the best views of the cliffs were on the otherside of these snakey looking sand tunes that wind in all direcions as if a giant snake has left it's tracks, the sand would slip into my socks and shoes, I would fall on my bum from the weight of the bag and my foot giving way in the sand, the try grass was razor sharp to touch and the dunes felt like I was walking up the giant sand dunes of the Sahara desert, though it was hard I must admit it ws was the most fun I had all day, after walking on the trails all day, to get lost amongst the dunes made me feel like I was a child again on a day trip to the beach, I just wished I didn't have a big rucksack, that kinda took the fun out of it a bit.

Walking up one of the dunes I looked down at this rather small beach called 'Pobbles Bay' it was one of the hardest beaches to get to but because it was so close to the village of Southgate it was still full of tourist, I would of loved to have found a private beach to myself

for ten minutes but I was definitely heading into tourist territory. I could see the famous 'Pennard castle' in the far distance, Pennard castle is famous because it was already a ruin when the other castles in the area were going strong. The three cliffs were now in view, they point like giant spikes going down in size, the sea was now starting to come back in and the small tunnel cave that goes through the three cliffs was filling up with water fast, by the time I got round to the other side to get a better view the sea had totally engulfed the cave, it just shows how scary the sea can be, it can catch you off guard and ,make you trapped on the rocks, or even worse.

I made my way down one more dune, well more doing a bum slite to Three Cliffs Bay at the bottom, the beach had holiday makers from all over the world, I even heard some Bangladeshis speaking Bangla which after living in Bangladesh for nearly two years, felt extremely weird to hear it on this beach in South Wales. I followed the river that cuts into the beach around, their were some stepping stone blocks to help me cross to the other side, I was still worried that I was going to fall backwards into the water as I had to hop from one to another, I could just feel the weight of my bag pulling me back as I was trying to avoid knocking any of the children over. Again I was the only one out of place, whilst everyone else was in their beach wear, I was in my trekking gear, looking like a stumpy giant pushing my way through the crowd.

It was quite a hard climb out of the bay, again through a giant hill of sand that takes you back on top of the cliffs would cause my feet to sink in, causing me to fall to my knees, I just wished I didn't have this bag, carrying it all day has really started to make my body feel sore and weak but yet I still wanted to carry on, I was so close to Oxwich, I didn't want to give up just yet. The giant sand dune is covered with bushes causing little hidden forests that shaded me away from the sun.

I followed the trail around again where I walked past what looked like old WW2 relics, but it was hard to tell, they were more like giant concrete buildings standing on the edge of the cliffs, I thought maybe they could of been watch towers just in case the Germans had tried to invade South Wales, but like I said, I wasn't really too sure.

I could see Oxwich Bay right in front of me, the sand dunes of the Bay were in front of me and they were a lot bigger than thouse of Three Cliffs Bay, my heart sank about the idea of walking through them, I was already wrecked and couldn't face another trip through giant dunes where the sand slips away from my feet.

I noticed though that I didn't have to go through the dunes, there was a forest that sits right next to the dunes and the beach called Nicholaston Woods, evening was fast approaching and I knew I had to pitch my tent soon so needed to find a shelter fast, I am into the idea of wild camping and found it wrong that the their is a law in the UK that bans such camping, the outdoors should be enjoyed through wild camping, I think if you are responsible enough to respect the environment then you should be allowed, so out of protest I found a quiet little spot in the trees, not far from the path but still hidden, it was next to the back of the sand dunes which provided me shelter from the strong winds which are known to hit the southern coastline of Gower.

I kept my head down for a few hours, trying to avoid the attention of the evening walkers, every time a dog ran close to me I would shew it away before the owner tried to run after the dog, when I was in the tent, everytime I heard a jeep drive past I would think it was the Gower rangers ready to tell me to move on, I would lay their all paranoid just waiting for the sound of footsteps.

As the sun was slowly setting, there was less people going out for walks, eventually the woods fell silent as darkness swept through the trees, the only sounds I could hear were the sounds of the waves, the swaying of the trees and the animals that like to explore the woods at night, I had been carrying a gas stove with me all day so I decided to light it up and cook myself some dinner and a cup of tea and settled in for an early night with the sound of rain hitting the sides of my tent, I felt so alone during that night, in the woods with nothing around me but nature, but it was nice, I hadn't felt that relaxed in a long time, I would of had a different feeling if I went to the campsite close by like all the tourist, there is one thing campsites don't provide and that is the true experience of camping outdoors.