It is a good thing I worked out that Talmudic argument about whether to put on the rain gear before it rains or wait until it actually does rain, because I was faced with that very situation this morning.  One extra bit of knowledge I had, other than the clouds, darkness, and wind, was that it had not rained the two days previous. A three day string of dry days, too much to expect.  So suited up, I set off, and in no time the deluge began.  For what are you grateful?  For having decided to put on your rain jacket under the poncho to stave off freezing.  It really did come down and blow forcefully, and there were some steep ups and downs to deal with while the poncho was billowing about obscuring the ability to determine where to place your clunky boot.  Pushed on.  Arrived in Manorbier too early to check in to B&B, then, glancing at GyPSy, I noticed that I could go further, circle back, and cut off a good 15 minutes from tomorrow’s walk, which promises some attractions, such as a reptile museum, I hope to take advantage of.  Only a certified nut case would do this.  One risk in this plan is that although a path to cut back showed on the map, there was no guarantee that one would not be stopped by an impassable gate, barbed wire, or an electric fence.  Luck was with me.  This new route meant that I passed the mini mini mini mart on the way to the B and B. They had not one head of lettuce, but at least they had those little sweet, hot peppers stuffed with cream cheese, big bars of Cadbury’s chocolate, and a couple of rolls.
 
 Man at B and B did not want any eating going on in the room.  Why then does he nicely supply little frig for guest use?  Did not ask.  Did not tell, either, that eating was definitely going to go on in the room because I was not about to venture out in the deluge to the one little tea shoppe in town to see if I could find a little table. Man at B and B did not want me leaving before 7:00 a.m. on the morrow lest I make a noise and wake other guests.  “Can you stop me,” I pondered?  Anyway, I did assure said man that I am quiet like a bunny and would not slam or even close noisily the door to my bedroom.

Oh, by the way,  I wondered the other day when a way-that-was-supposed-to-be was not whether that skinny little line strung around a field was simply meant to keep the cows in or was charged.  I checked, something you don’t do twice.  And this morning I thought about it a plenty when, trying to stand against the wind, the sea was on one side of the path, and one of those electric fences was on the other, running for quite some distance.

Anyway, despite all, the B and B is lovely, view of gorgeous garden out the window, and the heat is on.  Not only does that feel cozy and warm, it allows all garments to dry before they get soaked again.

Gorgeous day for final stretch of Pembrokeshire section of the walk.  The first section was on road since, as noted yesterday, I had done an extra section of the coastal part already, AND I realized that I shaved off about an hour, not 15 minutes of today’s walk but the longer walk would have been much more gorgeous today.  Anyhow, down on the ground life goes on, slowly perhaps:

Selfie taking photo:

This is what a gorgeous day looks like:

Plans to sightsee on the way came to naught for in Tenby, the Merchant’s House, which I did want to see, was not open, and at 9:30 when I reached Tenby the hordes were converging on town and beach making wandering about kind of unpleasant.  Did manage an ice cream, though.  It could have been bigger, pero bueno.

Then, in Sandersfoot, I was shooed out of the Reptile Museum, which was open only for private sessions.  Who knew?  I did manage to see a few of the residents, though.  I thought this creature was made of plastic, but no:

Pembroke Castle.

There are many kinds of giants:

Little creatures are busy, well, as bees, too:

Sunrise looking out from my window at Angle, at low tide:

Angle, where I stayed last night, has, in the entire village, three let-able rooms.  I was lucky to get one (booking way in advance is key), and at a such a nice little place where I enjoyed tremendously the baked products that Madeline, the owner, provided:  a scone and her own bread.   I needed that nourishment because today’s walk was 19 miles, some of it, especially to and through a large firing range, a real slog; some gorgeous, but sore toe due to too thick sock or something, made it hard.  It did not rain, though, and, especially through some steep sections at the beginning, I was grateful every second.

No shop in Angle. No shop in Bosherston, where I am tonight, and not certain of a shop in Manorbier, tomorrow’s destination. Supplies running low!

 A morning scene:

A bridge to cross over gas (?) pipelines:

And on the other side of the road.  No matter where you are, you always want to look pretty and be well fed:

Sometimes you’d never know it, though!  And as for phone signals, oy!

Now here is a little niche business:

At Pembroke Castle you can see how much fun war was in the goode olde days:

But they had their raucous dinner parties, too, where they did partake of much venison and rabbit, and were entertained by a musician, as you can see:

This is what you must know about their dinners.  The fork was not yet in use, so food was picked up between the thumb and some other finger (which finger, was not disclosed) or with a knife.  The meat was carved by a…….did you guess carver?  Well, then you were correct!  Bread was baked by a panter.  Too bad we have lost the use of that word.  Anyway, apparently, the bottom of loaves burned whilst baking, so the best part of the bread, which the nobility did eat, was the upper crust, and it is from that that we get the expression, the upper crust.

Toothpicks were in use and any other means of removing particle of food from between the teeth was considered rude.  (I am a little bit suspicious of some of these mannerly customs since in those goode olde days they used to wipe their mouths with their sleeves and urinate in the dining area.)

And a bit of its gardens:

Today had logistical challenges.  There were two estuary crossings that did not fit my schedule.  One, at high tide, necessitated a 2 1/2 mile detour, the other, a 4 /2 mile detour.  I, however, not deterred, headed off to inspect the first situation.  Though not within the tidal range for passage, the little bridge was above water and off I marched.  Only at the very end of the circuit did I have to go inland a little way to meet the path.  Lucky!

Two hours or so later, reached the second situation. It was 9:15 and earliest passable crossing time was 12:30.  This was a no-can-do situation, so inland I went for 1 1/2 hours on roads, mostly, but also through two barley fields and one bean field, kind of a long way around the block.  Damon, from Encounter Walking Holidays, had suggested, most sensibly, that I set out at 11:30 in order to make both crossings, but can you keep a horse raring to go in the barn?

I like an early breakfast, too:

So do I:

What struck me, was fresh coffee bit.  But I guess that is better than old coffee served daily, woudn’t you say?

Promised for today: clouds, no rain.  But as I was leaving The Clock House, where, I must note, I was kindly given shelter and a hot mug of tea yesterday when I arrived in my wretched state, it was ominous out there, so on went the pack cover, the wind jacket and the rain jacket for JUST IN CASE.  Whilst making these preparations, I did not notice that I had not tucked HAT under my belt, so later, when I determined that preparations for the rain could be dispensed with, and that HAT might save my air from temporary further awfulness, I did realize that HAT was GONE.  Fortunately, loss of HAT was not quite a disaster, for I had an extra hat in the suitcase.  But I did like original HAT ever so.

Two planters, from L.A. (the owners have eclectic taste).  He:

She:

as you can see:

Beach at Newgale:

There is definitely a Sphinx-like face looking at you here:

 Just a crawling along:

Some female grasshoppers and many other insects can taste with their ovipositors (egg laying tubes).  By doing this, they make sure that they lay their eggs in the tastiest, most nutritious bit of a plant for their offspring to feed on when they hatch out.

[Such a thoughtful mama]:

The male burying beetle Nicrophorus investigator, also calla sexton (gravedigger beetle), can locate the decaying corpse of a small animal by smelling it with its antennae.  He flies to the corpse, climbs on it, sticks his abdomen up in the air and releases a pheromone which calls in female burying beetles.  When his partner arrives, the two beetles work together to strip the corpse of hair or feathers. Next they embalm it with saliva and finally bury it underground.  Once [the corpse is] buried, the female lays eggs next to the corpse and waits with them until they hatch into larvae.  She then calls her larvae to the corpse and feeds them until they are big enough to feed themselves.

Spiders are extremely sensitive to touch.  Web-spinning species have hairs all over their bodies which allow them to distinguish between different things hitting their webs.  It is  quite useful being able to tell the difference between a fly (a safe supper), a honeybee (a dangerous meal) or another spider (a potential mate or dinner, depending on the day!)

Bees are particularly good at seeing UV light, so flowers look very different to them than they do to us.  Bees are likely to see landing strips on flowers that are only visible to them.  These landing strips guide them in towards the pollen and nectar in the center of the flower.

 If you have ever accidentally squashed a house fly Musca domestica or a bluebottle fly Calliphora sp., the red stain produced isn’t its blood; it is the red pigment from its eyes. [Ewww, who knew?]

Male scorpionflies often steal an insect from a spider’s web and then present a female with the dead insect prior to mating.  The gift distracts the female during copulation but also provides her with a nutritional boost at a vital time.  It’s a win win situation:

And stick insects, too [And they really are sticky]:

 But this beetle larva (?) is only for showing.  And you know what?  It doesn’t use its wee little legs while it is the larval stage; it stays on its back and just eats for many months:

This is a must visit site!

Stone bench:

St.David’s is a couple of miles inland from the Coast Path, so one walks to St. Justinian and then can walk the last couple of miles or take a shuttle bus.  You will not believe this.  I took the bus!  I will walk back to St. Justinian when I leave St. David’s, one reason being—and you may not believe this either—the shuttle bus does not begin its run at 6:30 a.m.

Need I mention the weather conditions this morning?  But while it was raining and blowing, another rainbow appeared.  This had to be an omen!  It was huge!  It lingered.  I felt as if I was going to walk through its arch.  Then, as the path bent, it seemed to move to the side only to appear in front, beckoning again!  Not that it stopped raining or anything!  It was a truly amazing phenomenon.

One end dipped right into the sea!

Holiday huts for sale:

Inspired by Rosie, who loves to give quizzes, here is one for you, dear reader.  Take at your own peril!

This morning I woke up at about 4:00 and heard the sound of  _____________.  When I headed out at 6:30, it was not___________ing, which put a spring in my step.  In fact, I saw a _________bow, so took a photo, but just as I did, it started to __________on the camera.

The __________ became very heavy and cold and needle-like, which was worrisome.  The path was beginning to look like a river.  There is no choice but to press on because there is no where to go, so press on you do.  For some strange reason, the path seemed to have a very large number of steep uphills, but few downhills, physically not reasonable, I know, but in the pouring ________ this is better, steep downhills being more difficult, if not treacherous, to navigate.  I was worried about the path around The Witches Cauldron because my notes said something about its being close to the edge, but it was fine. (Not my photo!):

One tries to read the sky.  Are there any clear areas ahead?  Yes, over the next hill, which seems to move further away as you approach, and besides, just when you are feeling hopeful, more heavy grey clouds push in from the west (I assume it was the west since I also assume I was walking south), crushing your optimism,  But by noon, the sky cleared and guess what colour one could see when one looked up?  BLUE!  Now, guess what is predicted for tomorrow? _______________

Two walkers doing the Pembrokeshire path from south to north (the usual direction), passed me and we chatted for a minute.  Their accents revealed their place of origin, so I remarked, “Oh, you don’t have enough rain in Scotland!  You have to come to Wales to experience the rain!”  The man thought for a moment, then replied, “Well, we do, but the Welsh rain is warmer.”  (Not always!!)

The last two hours were delightful a sunny, cool romp, so I decided to do a little portrait photography.  Wilbur and his Maaa-Maaa stood very patiently:

And these fine ladies did not want to miss out:

Get to B and B.  It is adorable!  Rather than its being rooms over a restaurant and bar, it is rooms over a sort of tea shop.  They bake their own excellent bread and other baked goods are exquisite!  Then, across the street is a butcher shop that sells, in addition to meat, of course, fruits, vegetables and specialty items.  I bought some Scottish lox at 1/4 the price, if not less, for which Zabar’s sells it, and was it ever delicious!!  I would have loved to have bought one of the big fat chickens and roasted it, because we do not get chickens like that.  But dinner was quite gourmet none the less.