How a Coastal Trail Tested Our Legs and Lifted Our Spirits.
July 2018 was packed with milestones and celebrations.
First off, Thom graduated from RADA as a Stage Manager and officially kicked off what she called her “adult life.”
We spent a few days in London celebrating with her, and then Yoni and I were free to go on our much-needed yearly hiking trip.
Thanks to the amazing WorkAway volunteers, we left Casa Alegria in their capable hands, knowing the animals and the farm were well taken care of.
That peace of mind meant we could fully dive into our adventure.
Wales had always held a special place in my heart.
I mean, the legends of King Arthur, Viking landings, and all that history—how could you not be drawn in?
We’d explored Scotland’s beauty many times, but this time, it was Wales’ turn.
Specifically, the Pembrokeshire Trail, a 300 km walk along some of the most stunning coastline you can imagine.
This trail had it all: 50 beaches, 40 Iron Age forts, medieval castles, Norman ruins, and Napoleonic-era defenses.
Plus, loads of secret coves, charming little ports, wildlife, flowers, and birds everywhere you looked. Basically, it’s paradise.
The challenge? I hadn’t done a walk this long in years, so I wasn’t sure if my legs were up for it.
We decided to stretch the walk from 10 days to 18 to give ourselves more time to take it slow and enjoy the journey (and let my body keep up!).
We started in Amroth, aiming to finish in St. Dogmaels.
When we arrived at our first B&B, the owner apologized about the lawn being dry.
They hadn’t had rain in weeks! Just our luck—we thought we were escaping the hot summer in Tenerife, only to hit a heatwave in Wales.
But honestly, the next day was perfect.
The views were stunning, the weather was ideal, and the sea breeze was like magic.
Each day we were greeted with sunrises and sunsets. The coast kept changing it’s shades from blue to green, and turquoise.
I kept thinking at some point I’d get tired of saying, “This is so beautiful!” but nope, I never did.
About nine days in, though, my legs started to feel it.
Walking 17-18 km every day wasn’t too bad in itself, but doing it day after day, with all the ups and downs of the coastal path, was wearing me down.
This is where having an amazing hiking partner like Yoni really makes all the difference.
He kept me going with his stories, jokes, and endless encouragement.
We even brought out one of our favorite movie lines as a kind of motivational catchphrase: “You got skills, June Haven!” (Bonus points if you know the movie!)
Things took a turn on day 16, though. The rain finally came, and it didn’t hold back—buckets of it.
The wind was crazy, and we were in the middle of a 19 km hike on a narrow ridge.
My legs were done, and I was losing my balance.
I told Yoni I couldn’t keep going.
I spotted a campsite on the map nearby and decided to head there while Yoni pushed on.
By the time I arrived, it was pouring.
Luckily, just as I reached the office, a guy was leaving and offered me a ride to the village where our B&B was. What a stroke of luck!
Twenty minutes later, I was sitting by a warm fire, waiting for Yoni to show up.
When he did, he was soaked but totally thrilled—he loved every minute of walking in that storm. Of course he did!
That was the only time I took a shortcut, and the last two days of the hike were shorter and easier.
Somehow, knowing the end was near, my feet found new energy, and we crossed the finish line at St. Dogmaels feeling proud.
That hike turned out to be the last big trail we did together.
The next year, Yoni took off on his crazy Mongol Rally adventure, and then the pandemic hit, keeping us grounded at Casa Alegria with no volunteers.
But the memories of Wales—its cliffs, coves, and endless beauty—are still with us.
And we both agree: Wales is one place we’ll definitely return to someday.
