I almost ran to the end It was a long, long journey The weather forecast wasn’t very encouraging for our final day, but as I set off from Middle Mill with Fritz and Rudi it was dry, though overcast. Tom and Mavis were there to wave me off, which I really appreciated – especially as they’d had such a long and fruitless wait the evening before. I knew that Tony had arrived at friends Julie and David in Neyland, having been given a lift from Somerset with Paul and Linda of Children’s Hospice South West. On our last mobile ‘conflab’ of the Granny Trek, he told me that David thought I’d be better to walk from St David’s to the coast and finish on the coastal path, as the roads are narrow and busy with traffic. Since Thursday’s revelation of how beautiful it is, this was a welcome suggestion.. The route was easy – up the hill from Middle Mill and across a deserted wartime airfield. We reached St David’s soon after midday and I half-wondered whether I’d see any family or friends amongst the crowds, but nobody hailed us and we continued on, uninterrupted, out to the cliff edge at St Justinians. By now the clouds had cleared and the scene was one of bustling yachts, motor boats and ferries on the bluest of blue seas.. We found a comfortable spot to sit for lunch, the dogs’ leads firmly secured round my backpack, as the cliff edge was not too far distant. I guessed it would take twenty minutes or so to reach the car park at Whitesands Bay, where those who felt energetic might like to walk up to St David’s Head with me and the others could sit on the beach. Quite a number of people passed by on the path, one couple so weighed down by gigantic backpacks that I felt sorry for them. I even thought they must be mad to stagger along under such a load, which was a brief insight into the opinions of so many who have viewed Tony and me over the years!. One walker stopped to chat and I asked how long it would take to reach Whitesands Bay. Consulting her guide book for the Pembrokeshire Coast Path she said: “About an hour I should think.” . “What?” I squeaked. “I thought it would be twenty minutes.” . It was already quarter past two and I was due to meet up with Tony and company at three o’clock. I’d like to say I jumped up, but after such a long rest it was more of a stagger, and as I hastily threw things into my pack a family approached with two small dogs, neither on the lead. I was in the process of extricating my dogs’ leads from the pack handles and as the two newcomers stood just out of range of Rudi and Fritz they both lunged forward at the same moment. I desperately hung on to their leads as they almost toppled me over.. “Can’t you control your dogs” I snapped angrily, but in all truth it was my two that were so badly behaved and we were lucky not to disappear over the cliff edge. What a blot on our copybook right at the last, but considering they’d been such good, brave dogs for so many weeks they were allowed one bad moment. My only excuse for being rude was my sudden panic that we were going to be late. . We set off again at a record pace along the narrow cliff path, having to stop each time we encountered walkers heading east, but as the bay came fully into view I relaxed somewhat, as I knew I should make it by three. It was very hot and a lot of people were enjoying themselves on the beach, a group wearing yellow jackets standing out from the rest. All my attention was taken up with managing the dogs on such a difficult path, so I couldn’t peer into the distance for familiar figures. As we turned onto a wider track to make our way towards the car park, a sense of unreality gripped me. After so many weeks of single-mindedly striving to reach this place, my mind couldn’t adjust to the fact that we’d almost achieved our goal. . Now that the walking was easier, Rudi, Fritz and I got into a comfortable stride and very soon approached the yellow-jacketed group. Suddenly daughter Sally’s face came into focus.. “Well done, Mum!” she grinned and gave me a welcoming kiss. More familiar faces materialized and I realised that many of the welcoming party were wearing Children’s Hospice SW yellow jackets. The next moment Tony’s arms were around me and we hugged each other tightly. Such a lot of family and friends had made the long journey to meet us and a good time was spent in hugging and kissing before the photographer from the Daily Telegraph called us to order. Julia had been busy with the collecting box, but now she joined in with the photo shoot, which proved particularly difficult as the grandchildren were carrying welcoming posters on sticks, which waved around in front of their faces. A hat fell off and had to be retrieved by little hands and the smallest members wriggled behind their bigger cousins. The dogs forgot all their posing experience and sat with their backs to the photographer. It’s a good job he has such a lot of patience!. He needed a session on the beach, which had to be in the next cove due to a dog ban on the main sands. This entailed a clamber over the rocks, which proved somewhat hazardous for the oldest and youngest who attempted it and once my boots and socks were off, it was the turn of Fritz and Rudi to suffer as I tried to make them sit on wet sand with the shallow waves washing round their tails. Once again, they were long-suffering and co-operative – they’ve truly been the stars of the Granny Trek.. As I paddled in the sea, I felt a brief flash of realisation that I’d actually completed my walk across the country, but there was still St David’s Head to climb and with footwear restored we turned our sights to the final stage. Quite a crowd had decided to join us, including Tony – who hadn’t tackled a long hill for a couple of years – and when at last we stood on the rocky headland, with nothing but the clear blue sea ahead of us, the sense of achievement felt terrific. . With little time to freshen up back at the motor home, Julia and I made our way to the restaurant in St David’s where we joined nearly thirty family and friends for a celebratory meal. As I sat amongst that joyful gathering I felt truly blessed.. Tony returned to Neyland for the night with our friends and Julia and I drove back to the motorhome for the last time. We felt far too high on all the excitement to go straight to bed, so unwound by watching a Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers video. We’d come to feel really at home in our house on wheels and there was an element of sadness as I climbed the ladder to my bed over the cab and Julia rearranged the long seat for the last time. The dogs were completely unaware of all the fuss, Rudi flat on his back with legs splayed and Fritz snoring noisily.. On Sunday morning we awoke to black clouds and driving rain. We’d been unbelievably lucky with the weather the day before. Julia packed her things into her car and drove off to meet her friends for lunch, whilst I headed for Neyland in the motorhome, missing the sight of the little blue car in front of me leading the way. Tony insisted on driving all the way home to Somerset through difficult, wet conditions, even though he was obviously extremely tired after the exertion and excitement. He’d been teasing me recently about having bought new baskets for all the dirty washing and telling me that the weeds were taller than the flowers in the garden, but in reality he’d been unbelievably busy for the eight weeks, painting the outside boundary walls, as well as the woodwork of the bungalow. There was virtually no laundry to do, the garden was full of flowers and not one speck of dust lurked on the furniture. I was made to sit down while he cooked my tea and then we just enjoyed sitting on the sofa, being together again. . Yesterday we returned our lovely motorhome to Chelston at Wellington, not really knowing which words to use to express our gratitude for their generosity. They plan an official get-together on Friday week, the 5th August - a date on the calendar to look forward to.. So the Granny Trek has ended, but that was only the beginning of my plans to make mini Granny Treks a part of the lives of the older generation, enjoying a pleasant walk that will help keep us healthy while raising money for Children’s Hospice South West, where short and precious lives are enriched and families are lovingly cared for and supported through a living nightmare.. Do please continue to visit our web site. There’s going to be lots going on in the future and I sincerely hope you’ll be a part of it. |