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National Walking Month

Photo of a wooden sign post pointing in various directions. Blue sky and green hills roll away behind it.

To celebrate National Walking Month, we asked some of our authors to suggest walks featured in their books which anyone can enjoy. Read on to find out more. 

Walking the Valleys by Peter Finch and John Briggs

This cover shows a photo of a large sculpture depicting the heads of two miners made from horizontal black slabs. The text reads: Walking the Valleys. Peter Finch. Photographs by John Briggs.

Walking the Valleys  is a collection of fifteen walks around the South Wales Valleys. Author Peter Finch suggests trying these interesting urban rambles which feature in the book alongside John Briggs’s lively photographs.

Aberdare: ‘Four and a half miles circular walk around Aberdare, Queen of the Valleys.  A splendid walk that takes in the canal, the remains of the iron industry, the chapels and the bustling and once choir-filled town.  Ups and downs throughout and thoroughly invigorating. End up at the Cynon Museum, best in the valleys.’

Gelligaer to Bargoed: ‘Six and a half miles from Pengam rail station to Gilfach International (smallest rail platform in south Wales) via townscape and open moor.  Pass through an historical vortex –  Roman remains, standing stones, Celtic crosses, Welsh castles, reclaimed coal tips and rushing rivers.  Start at one rail station and finish at another.’

The Edge of Cymru: A Journey by Julie Brominicks

This cover shows a photo of a country road stretching into the distance. The sky is dark with storm clouds but the top of the hill is bathed in golden light. The text reads The Edge of Cymru. Julie Brominicks.

In her book The Edge of Cymru, Julie Brominicks recounts her year-long walk around the edge of Wales following the Wales Coastal Path and Offa’s Dyke Trail. Here she suggests some easily accessible sections of the route which made an impact on her.

Porthmadog and Criccieth are both well served by connecting trains and buses making the coast path between them easily accessible for non-drivers like me. This is a dreamy walk. Even the fascinating steam trains, boats, traffic and noisy high street of Porthmadog seem to be tolerated by the surrounding mountains which speak of something else, stronger but silent. Afon Dwyryd is particularly poetic. In all seasons and weathers its light is nuanced, its estuary waters shift. There is intrigue in the shingly marsh at Borth-y-Gest and the labyrinthine paths and secretive inlets that follow. Less so along the beachy stretch from the headland to Criccieth but this stretch is good for being brisk. And Criccieth has a lot more going on than sweet tea-rooms, should you care to look.’

‘Meanwhile for drama with minimum effort, Llanilltud Fawr to Aberogwr is a spectacular walk largely atop an undulating clifftop plateau with less climbing than you might expect for such rocky theatre. These cliffs consisting of uplifted Triassic and Jurassic rock which is rare in Cymru, have a tendency to topple, leaving exposed rock the colour of honeycomb, and rubble like bombed cathedrals, fossils and the occasional dinosaur on the beaches. The views are expansive, the walk remote, and the wooded valleys strange unexpected islands of wildlife. Perhaps I’ve been lucky but late light here on each occasion I’ve visited has been an other-worldly chiaroscuro.’

‘A few precious (or should I say precious few) parts of the coast are accessible for all. The Millennium Coastal Park at Llanelli, in essence a well-designed modern promenade, is a glorious landscaped swirl incorporating wildflower planting, ponds and new woodlands. Meanwhile the promenade at Tywyn though old-school in its ruler-straightness is no less accessible. Much of my childhood was spent on Tywyn prom, whose salt-sticky handrail is as familiar to my skin as the foam creaming up the beach like a Guinness top. A stretch of coast path at Aberporth is also noteworthy – whilst only a mile long, it is fully wheelchair accessible giving users access to a lofty vantage point over the bay. 

Walking to me, is opportunity to think, breathe, gain perspective. Yet often I feel it is perceived as a radical act. It seems I don’t ‘go for a walk’ in the expected way. I’m not mad about kit and dislike guidebooks, am not very good at directions and enjoy not knowing much where I am. Furthermore I don’t drive and I’m glad. For me, something is lost by driving some place to have a walk. Walking to me is less pastime more intrinsic, and it never ceases to puzzle me that to engage in the oldest and most reliable way of travelling can cause people so much surprise!’

Real Dorset by Jon Woolcott

This cover shows a photo of a Dorset Hill Fort. A lush grass path leads to the domed fort in the distance which sits beneath a blue sky tinged with the golden light of early dusk. The text reads: Real Dorset. Jon Woolcott.

Real Dorset is the latest addition to the Seren Real Series of psychogeographic guides. Whilst writing the book, Jon Woolcott explored much of the county on foot and suggests visiting these note-worthy places.

‘At events for Real Dorset, I’m always asked to name my favourite place in Dorset, or sometimes a favourite walk. It’s like picking your favourite child. Each time I choose a different place. Variety is Dorset’s wonder, from the high chalklands of Cranborne Chase to the flat clay of Blackmore to the folded valleys of the west. But my (new) favourite walk is where the land drops swiftly to the sea, around the Valley of the Stones in the south.

Dorset has few stone circles or dolmens – but most are gathered together around the Valley of the Stones, an ancient natural quarry formed by glaciation from which the stones for the monuments were dragged. These are all easily accessed from the South Dorset Ridgeway, which some have speculated was once a processional route between the megaliths. Walking from the sensationally ugly Hardy Monument, built for Nelson’s captain (‘Kiss Me Hardy’) you can find The Hellstone, a dolmen dramatically reconstructed by the Victorians, The Grey Mare and her Colts, a long barrow covered mostly now by earth, and the remote Kingston Russell Stone Circle. Close to the Hardy Monument itself, is a new stone circle, built only in 2018 and which aligns to the midsummer sunrise. Aside from the stones, the views are magnificent and the walking generally easy and flat. Take a sandwich, watch the stones, feel the ancient power.

Map: OS Explorer OL15 (Purbeck and South Dorset). By car: park in the National Trust car park at the Hardy Monument. By public transport: First Bus run services along the coast which stop at Portesham.’

Edging the City by Peter Finch

This cover shows a simple illustration of part of the Cardiff border. The text reads Peter Finch, Edging the City, A Journey Round the Border of Cardiff.

If you’re still hungry for some walks but fancy yourself more of an urban explorer, check out these suggestions from Peter Finch. During lockdown, he decided to walk to Cardiff border, as Covid restrictions confined people to staying within their local authority. As shown in his book Edging the City, walking the city’s edge allowed Finch to view it as never before, and you can too on these routes.

The Peterstone Gout Diversion
Peterstone Wentloog to the Gout and back (via the golf club)

An easy circular three mile ramble on Cardiff’s weirdly flat out of this world coast land.  Pills, drainage reens, sea-operated sluices, the remains of a medieval harbour, site of the great flood of 1607 and a golf club that will let non-members into the clubhouse.’

Graig Llysfaen

‘Breath-taking views from this slide along Cardiff’s protecting ridge.  Start at the Ty Mawr, take in a cold war communications tower, Cardiff’s most northerly extremity in a farmer’s field and the magnificent trees of the Coed Coesau Whips. Start at the Ty Mawr and finish at the Maenllwyd Inn.’

We hoped you enjoy exploring the walks suggested by our authors. If you end up following one, remember to tag us in on social media @SerenBooks. Happy National Walking Month!

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Guest Post: Peter Finch – Walking in a Lockdown

This morning, to celebrate National Walking Month, we have a guest post from avid walker and author of Walking Cardiff Peter Finch. He tells us what walking in a lockdown looks like for him when separated from his fellow wanderer John Briggs and how it is affecting work on their next project.

Walking in a Lockdown

Out, up the hill, it’s always the same hill.  Weave into the road to avoid the next guy.  Smile.  Sometimes they smile back.  Climb.  Runners pass, headphoned, sneaking up behind silently and then zooming on in a rush of huff and sweat.  Advice I’ve read tells me that being laterally near a runner isn’t too bad.  It’s getting caught in the slipstream you need to avoid.  How do I police this?  I’m thinking of adopting a Friar Tuck walking pole.  Thrash it about.  Make myself utterly anti-social but certainly safe.

On the way back down, with the on a clear day splendid views of the city’s high-rise and the sea beyond, I try to imagine myself elsewhere.   Walking the Valleys again. The follow on project to Walking Cardiff.  Writing such a book during lockdown, getting there by Google but pretending it’s real, is akin to studying Macbeth through Coles Notes and never reading the actual text.  Not that we are without some touch of genuine experience.  Both John Briggs, my fellow Valleys wanderer, and I have walked Valley landscape and township extensively together in planned excursion.  We’ve also done this individually in swift half days to scope a place out -a couple of hours rambling Ponty looking for traces of Dr William Price and Iolo Morgannwg and a few more in Ron Berry’s Blaen Cwm checking out the entrance to the Rhondda tunnel and the end of the world streets Charlie Burton painted so well.

We’ve walked these places historically – mine often recalled through fog – a reading with Mike Jenkins at the Imp in Merthyr, as a child accompanying my father to work in Ystrad Mynach,  to one of Harri Webb’s legendary parties at Garth Newydd.  John’s have usually been done through actual photographs.  He’s sent me a great thirty-year spread of black and white coal pits taken across the whole Valley landscape, a detailed set of Merthyr Tydfil done one Christmas in 2014, and then, his piece de résistance, shots taken on a Literary Tour (which, under the auspices of Academi, I organised but, for unfathomable reasons now, did not go on) in the company of Daniel Williams and Nigel Jenkins to look for traces of Idris Davies in the valley top town of Rhymney.

 

Rhymney was the place we were right in the middle of exploring when the virus struck and our ability to walk freely was rudely curtailed.  I’d walked around the centre on my own – found the Idris Davies plaque on the house where he died, seen the Michael Disley statue of the miner and the steelworker back to back over one of Pete Seeger’s Bells of Rhymney and had a cup of tea and a piece of doorstep toast in the café with no windows on the High Street.  Looking later at John’s pics, taken in 2011, that statue looks bright and new.  It looked stained and neglected when I passed.

John had one well up on me.  He’d also visited the actual Davies grave in Rhymney Cemetery and stood listening to Nigel’s sonorous voice recite extracts from Gwalia Deserta.  Idris Davies, the people’s poet, the miner who could rhyme and make memorable our collective fears and aspirations.  His Maggie Fach and 1926 I’d help turn into poster poems, famous throughout Welsh bedsits for a whole generation, back in the 70s.  It was good to trail in his wake.

South of Rhymney station was a place where neither John nor I had yet ventured.  Here was land once occupied by Bute’s great Egyptian-styled Union ironworks but now vacant and worn.  On it  stood the operation of K J Services Ltd.  This presented the world with the greatest assemblage of broken, bust and otherwise abandoned mechanical diggers and JCBs anyone could imagine. Running for miles.  Visible from space.  There’s a YouTube tour, I discovered, and an overhead walkthrough available on Google Earth.  That’s all we have for now as the virus chases our tails.  When it’s dead John and I will visit in person.   For all this virtual stuff, Zoom meetings, Skype chats, Facetimes, Houseparty romps and desk research until my eyes ache you just cannot do without first person.  Don’t let anyone say different.

Peter Finch

28/04/2020

Photographs taken by John Briggs.

 

Walking Cardiff is available on the Seren website £14.99

Don’t forget you can get 20% off when you sign up to become a member of our book club.