The Daily Telegraph - Saturday - Travel
West is best for summer
Sally Coffey reveals why this wild Welsh county ticks all the boxes for a family holiday
Ilike to think of Pembrokeshire as Cornwall without the crowds (well, not quite as many, anyway). It has the cute, picture-postcard villages, fresh fish and chips that can be enjoyed by the harbour and beautiful sandy beaches, but far, far fewer people (and much more availability).
Before the pandemic hit, it had become an October half-term tradition for our family of four to drive to Pembrokeshire, hole up in a cosy cottage for a week and do as little as possible for the duration.
Unlike the bulk of visitors to Pembrokeshire each year, I have never really found the south of the county appealing. Tenby and Saundersfoot have a certain bucket-and-spade allure I’m sure, but they’ve always come across as a bit too self-aware for my liking, offering a version of old-world charm that only exists on a chocolate box.
No, for me, it’s north Pembrokeshire every time. It’s a wilder place, where nature flourishes – and it’s less pretentious and ever so much quieter.
North Pembrokeshire is the kind of place my dad used to drag me away to for bonding time when I was young, which I thought was incredibly dull at the time, but which I now appreciate with renewed enthusiasm.
And so, it is my turn to be the parent to deny my children the beaches with potential playmates, the gift shops with their displays of cellophane-wrapped rock and the tempting jangle and hypnotic lights of the arcades. But with a coastline feathered with empty beaches and clandestine coves, where long days can be spent rock pooling, I find they rarely think about what they’re missing.
Our most recent stay took us to a former fisherman’s cottage just 300 yards from the sheltered beach of Abercastle. I’d chosen this little holiday home for a few very important reasons – I wanted a beach we could walk to, access to the
Pembrokeshire Coast Path and a decent pub within a short drive (I had hoped for walking distance, but you can’t have everything).
Abercastle is a sleepy village, with houses creeping down to the water’s edge and I couldn’t resist a walk down to the shore in the dark on our first night to gulp down the invigorating sea air.
The next day, loaded with packed lunches, we walked down to our little beach, a mix of sand and shingle, where Alfred Johnson landed in 1876, having become the first person to sail singlehandedly across the Atlantic.
Of course, my two kids weren’t interested in this nugget of trivia, but they were interested in skimming stones and chasing waves as far as they dared before running away at just the right moment (or in the case of my eldest, leaving it a little too late).
We walked south on the coastal path, following a little track up from the far side of the beach. With two small children we didn’t plan on walking far, but just to be out and feel the crisp wind on our faces within a few minutes’ walk of our house felt good.
The reason for the excursion was to visit Carreg Samson – a 5,000-year-old Neolithic cromlech, consisting of several upright stones topped with what looks like a perilously placed capstone – which my husband had spied on a map.
Pembrokeshire has more scheduled monuments than any other Welsh county, except Powys, but they are very rarely signposted. In true folklore tradition, this exposed burial chamber was supposedly built by St Samson, who according to legend placed the capstone on top using just his little finger. The kids, as expected, were nonplussed.
We had more joy getting their attention ahead of a walk to the tip of St Davids Head to see another burial chamber, Coetan Arthur. Purely, I believe, because it shared a name with my eldest. And so, it became an adventure.
We parked up at Whitesands Bay, a handsome wide expanse of beach, and walked north, along the coast path, with my husband happily snapping away while I spent my time trying to ensure the children weren’t being too gung-ho in their endeavours as the path ascended high along the cliff edge.
They amazed us, completing the fivemile return walk with minimal whinging. The views along this rugged stretch of coastline are astounding, with vivid blue seas and secret bays carved into the coast. I’m told in summer the cliffs are ablaze with wildflowers, with sightings of peregrine falcon, gannets, dolphins and porpoises possible.
Seals also frequent these shores and we had two sightings: a pair at the Blue Lagoon in Abereiddy (a former slate quarry that is now a popular watersport activities base) and while swimming in the sea by a rocky beach after a visit to Melin Tregwynt mill.
The stone from quarries like Abereiddy was once brought into the small harbour hamlet of Porthgain, just a few miles south of Abercastle on the coast path, and this became our go-to place for dinner. There are two main places to choose from: the Shed for top-notch sitin or takeaway fish and chips; or the Sloop Inn, a welcoming, unfussy pub, which does good food and has a pool table. For me, north Pembrokeshire is a less twee version of Cornwall, offering everything England’s south coast does, without crowds of other holidaymakers spoiling the view.
I think perhaps it’s time to upgrade Pembrokeshire from our half-term hideaway to our summer holiday destination of choice.