Windswept walk alongside bays revealing ancient treasures
Stepping out alongside the breathtaking bays of the Gower Peninsula leads to the discovery of a wealth of natural treasures
ON THE WINDSWEPT coast of South West Wales, an ocean breeze sends clouds of sand into the briny air, cresting the ridge of dunes that are endlessly moving and shifting with the wind and tide. With a sharp sibilance, it sweeps the sea into a ruffled foam, throwing a swirl of salt spray nearby as waves break against a shell-strewn beach.
High in the cliffs, guillemots and razorbills are beginning to nest on the precarious rocks, while, higher still, the warbling of skylarks reverberates from the brownish heather of exposed downs.
Overhead, a peregrine soars seaward against the currents; its blue-grey plumage catches the light of the March sun as it goes on the hunt.
Bounded by the silver-grey waters of the Loughor estuary to the north and the white shell beaches of Swansea Bay to the east, the Gower Peninsula is a pocket of land in the historic county of Glamorgan, covering approximately 70 square miles and threaded by strands of gold beaches, wave-carved bays and fractured cliffs pummelled by Atlantic surf.
Projecting westwards into the Bristol Channel, the peninsula comprises mainly carboniferous limestone, complexly folded and faulted into a series of synclines, which form the major bays of Oxwich and Port Enyon to the south; and anticlines, marked by the Old Red Sandstone ridge of Cefn Bryn and the western downs. This underlying geology, combined with agricultural influences, has resulted in a beautifully varied landscape.
Despite its close proximity to Swansea, lying just a few miles west of Wales’s second largest city, Gower’s glittering array of natural habitats led to the region being designated the first Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty (AONB) in 1956 and its
coastline a Heritage Coast in 1973. Today, Gower is part of a family of 46 AONBs in England, Wales and Northern Ireland, whose distinctive character and magnetic allure has earned national importance.
Region of contrasts
The area is a haven for walkers and naturalists: the north coast, formed by the 3-mile-wide estuary, offers gentle sandstone cliffs, mudflats and wild salt marshes rich in birdlife. But it is the rugged limestone lattice of the south coast, punctuated by the sweeping bay of Rhossili in particular, that perhaps ›
provides the greatest spectacle of all.
This region of wild, exposed beauty can be explored on a circular walk of approximately 5 miles, which takes in pristine bronze beaches, maritime heath and sandy coves, to culminate in the tidal promontory of Worms Head, revealing the precious ecosystem of intertidal flora and fauna that survives and thrives, as well as the area’s rich archaeological history.
Perched high on a verge overlooking the 3-mile sweep of Rhossili Bay, known locally as Llangennith Sands, the walk begins in the small village of Rhossili itself, sitting at the most westerly point of the peninsula. Under protection from inappropriate development, the communities that litter Gower are often small and exceedingly remote, with Rhossili no exception: the 2011 census recorded the population at just 278.
Pale sunlight falls upon a handful of gleaming cafés and holiday homes, their walls as white as rock salt. At the south-western end of the village, a row of three buildings marks the former coastguard cottages, affording views of the glittering coast below. Built in the late 1920s, they are now owned by the
National Trust and currently house a small shop and visitor centre, which offers guides on local walks and wildlife, as well as tidal information for those wishing to venture to Worms Head.
Beside the cottages, the surfaced track curves gently into the village, flanked on one side by a wooden fence dappled with green and a low-lying stone wall on the other, flecked with rings of white and yellow lichen.
From its lofty position, a westerly wind whistles noisily through the narrow country lanes, bringing with it the smell of sand, salt and ozone. As it breaks, the air is infused with a gentle warmth, which lingers momentarily before being swept up by the swirl to beat back against the whitewashed buildings.
Buried village
Embracing the weather with an enduring resilience, this wild and windy spot has not always called Rhossili home. In 1979, excavations at the foot of Rhossili Down, the ridge sitting just north of the present-day village, revealed the sand-buried remains of an original medieval settlement nestled behind the dunes. Devastating storms and shifting sands are likely to have forced the villagers to abandon this site, eventually relocating to higher ground.
As the route veers left onto the lane behind the church of St Mary, further evidence of this ghostly village becomes apparent. Departing into the quiet churchyard, the view is dominated by the church tower, with its distinctive saddleback roof. A common feature in South Wales, the tower supports two gables and a ridge, once used as a local landmark to guide ships on the coast. In one corner of the cemetery, an unmarked grave is dedicated to sailors who perished at sea, emblematic of seafaring hardships from a bygone age.
Dating to the 13th century, perhaps one of its more salient features is the late Norman arch on the south doorway, adorned with chevrons and ornamental dogtooth mouldings. A theory supported by local tradition suggests that this belonged to the older church, buried beneath the sand. Indeed, further excavation of the original settlement
“Prosperity doth bewitch men, seeming clear; But seas do laugh, show white, when rocks are near”
John Webster, The White Devil
revealed dressed stonework to be missing from the old chancel wall, suggesting it was likely recovered during the abandonment of the village. To the left of the arch is a scratch dial carved onto a pillar: a form of sundial used by medieval parsons to mark the time for service.
Leaving the church behind, the stone-strewn path turns left at a junction to reach a kissing gate, marked by a National Trust sign. There is an option here to descend onto the flat apron of land, known as the Warren, behind Rhossili Bay or to follow the path to a second gate, which forms the start of the ascent up the south side of Rhossili Down, the highest sandstone ridge in Gower.
Heathland path
As the path rises, heathland takes over, the ground covered by tangles of woody heather, interspersed with collapsed heaps of russet bracken. In just a few months, the area will be enveloped by swathes of fuchsia-pink, lilac and mulberry-purple as heather comes into bloom. But in spring, the starker scrubland finds a beauty of its ›
own, with common gorse rising to the fore, its needle-like branches studded with butter-yellow flowers. As the shrubs are passed, their distinctive coconut scent appears in drifts, mingling with the salty tang of the air.
Dwarfed by salt-laden winds and thin soils, which do not allow for much vertical growth, this diverse habitat is still a haven for wildlife. Rare insects, such as the Black bog ant, Formica picea, scramble amid the brown papery folds, and brown hares romp in the undergrowth. Resident all year round, stonechats can be spotted darting among the gorse bushes, their call reminiscent of pebbles tapping together, while choughs, resplendent in their inky-black plumage, roam above. In March, scrub-nesting skylarks are also beginning to establish their territories ready for the breeding season in April, and their plump-bellied chests can often be glimpsed rising from the heather on fluttering wings.
The climb to the top is steep, but relatively brief, at approximately 219 yards (200m). Upon reaching the summit, the path widens into a bridleway and continues along the ridge edge. A short walk reaches a large stony mound topped by a white trig pillar, marking the highest point of Gower at 632ft (193m).
Communal farming
It is worth pausing to admire the far-reaching views of the sea, with its sunlit waves receding to a hazy blue horizon. From here, the scattered buildings of Rhossili are visible, clinging to the edge of the cliffs in defiance, while beyond is a patchwork of arable fields, defined by earthen baulks and drystone walls.
Known as the Vile, this medieval open field system is a significant relic of traditional communal farming and one of only a few surviving examples in the UK. Owned by a landowner, each field was divided into narrow strips, separated by low grassy banks to give the system its open appearance. These were rented to the villagers for common grazing or to grow their crops. Today, more than three-quarters of the land is owned by the National Trust. During the summer, the fields are filled with approximately 400,000 sunflowers and have become a
hugely popular attraction, often resulting in the village becoming crowded and the narrow lanes overwhelmed by traffic.
Sea dragon
Beyond this rises Worms Head, a sequence of three spectacular upthrusts dangling tenuously from the mainland by a sliver of limestone rocks. The legacy of Nordic invaders in Gower is reflected in its name, the Viking word ‘wurm’ meaning ‘dragon’, or ‘sea serpent’.
With its undulating string of rock snaking 1¾ miles into the sea, it is easy to see why this was chosen: its strangely profiled topography is often wedded to a basking dragon, poised and ready to thrash its barnacled tail into the sandy crescent of Rhossili Bay. Fringed by foaming waves, a blowhole on the outer tip is known to make loud hissing noises.
These Nordic invaders were not the first to appear in Gower. An almost contiguous ring of bronze age cairns cluster around the trig-topped beacon, glowing white among a sea of russet. North of the summit, on the eastern flank of the down, are also the remains of two stone age burial chambers, known as Sweyne’s Howes, which can be explored on a detour. According to legend, they are believed to belong to the Scandinavian warlord Sweyne, or Swain, the founder of Swansea or ‘Sweyn’s-ey’, though the monuments actually predate him by more than 3,000 years.
Retracing steps for a short distance, the path bears left onto an ashen-grey track downhill. Wild Gower ponies have been spotted on the heath here, nibbling the
“Plant on the verdant coast thy feet, Her lofty hills, her woodlands sweet; O, lavish blossoms with thy hand O’er all the forests of the land”
Dafydd ap Gwilym, ‘Glamorganshire’
encroaching brambles and tough grasses to a neat crop; an essential part of maintenance on the commons.
Following the blue arrows to a house, the path crosses a road to reach a stile, beyond which is another stile. Here, the route turns right into the village of Pitton; eventually cutting through a small patch of woodland to reach a National Trust sign for Mewslade Bay.
Rock pools
The route provides an opportunity to descend onto this sequestered beach at low tide or to continue along the cliff edge. Narrowly scoring the valley, the downward path is mantled by screes of limestone debris, and the descent is rewarded by sand, sea and a glorious mass of unstratified rock fragments. Numerous rock pools and fissures teem with marine life here, ranging from the tentacled blooms of sea anemone to skulking velvet crabs. To the west, the bay is protected by the spectacular limestone pinnacle of Thurba Head.
Etched into the otherworldly rock formations is the geology of the landscape. At the lowest level of the cliffs, pockmarks are left by the swirl of the tide. Above, the stone is blemished by pits and runnels from relentless sea spray, while, higher still, the rock smoothens, bespeckled by tangerine-coloured lichen, which clings beyond the reach of the surf. In late spring, its surface is stippled by flowering thrift. As the limestone levels off, a narrow belt of land creates a patch of raised beach, common on the Gower coast and indicative of the original sea level, which was once much higher.
Floral treasure
Salt-tolerant plants flourish on the lower cliffs, while the rare alpine flowers of yellow whitlow grass, Draba aizoides, unfurl as early as the first week in March, nestled in the narrow crevices between Rhossili and Pwll Du.
This is the only place in the whole of Wales where these dainty flowers bloom, and they have become a golden treasure in Gower’s floral crown.
Back on the cliffs, the path skirts the edge of Fall Bay to join a grassy track running beside a stone wall, eventually reaching the lookout station overlooking the Head at close range. At low tide, it is possible to extend the walk across this thread of rocky causeway, though care should be taken to check tidal times.
From the cliff edge, the long, flat-topped ridge of Inner Head rises skyward. Born in Swansea, Welsh poet Dylan Thomas spent much of his youth here. He particularly relished flouncing on the soft, springy grass of Inner Head, so much so that he was once marooned by the tide and wrote several accounts of the fearful but wonderful night he spent, ‘too frightened to go further... because of things I am ashamed to be frightened of’. Across the tracery of limestone rocks is Middle Head, home to the tremendous natural arch known as Devil’s Bridge, and beyond is Outer Head, the most impressive of all. Access is forbidden between March and August to allow guillemots, razorbills, fulmars and kittiwakes to nest, with Grey seals basking on the dark rocks below.
The route has now come almost full circle, and a gentle clifftop walk back to ›
the village offers a final view over the great curve of gold sand framed by the downs, once described by Dylan Thomas as ‘wild, bleak and barren’.
Site of a shipwreck
There is a feeling of freshness from the wind as it swirls over the cliffs and into the unsuspecting bay below. Over the rim of the horizon, foam-crested waves flow as high as those that crash against the sand: a sombre reminder of the lonely grave in the quiet village churchyard devoted to the perilous souls of the sea. These coastal waters were notorious for shipwrecks, and a number of ships have found their final resting place among its shores. Most notable is the Helvetia, a Norwegian oak barque that swept into the bay in 1887. At the southern end, the ribbed, skeletal remains are still visible, partly submerged beneath the shifting sands.
Behind the dunes, the raised grassy strip of the Warren can now be seen in full: bare, but for one lone white house nestled at its centre. This is the old rectory, constructed in 1850 approximately halfway between the villages of Rhossili and Llangennith. It originally housed a clergyman who served both parishes. Dylan Thomas once thought of buying the isolated property, but decided against it since there was no pub nearby.
It is near here that the excavations of the original settlement were made. Lingering a moment to watch the whirling scud of sand, it is almost as if the peal of church bells can be heard ringing from the village: a ghostly chime that echoes on the breeze with an abiding resonance before it is buried beneath the shifting dunes.
Please note that in light of the current situation, restrictions should be observed, so please check before travelling.
“Then rose from sea to sky the wild farewell Then shriek’d the timid, and stood still the brave, Then some leap’d overboard with fearful yell, As eager to anticipate their grave”
Lord Byron, ÔDon Juan’