Stephen Reynolds's Blog - Posts Tagged "humour"

I come across a large information board showing an artist’s impression of the port in its pomp. Hoppers crush, chimneys smoke and huge ships sit in wait in a scene that displays a ‘hive of industrial activity’. It would have been an awesome spectacle I’m sure – although, in truth, I’m probably more of a ‘leisurely stroll with an ice cream whilst having a read of a few signs’ kind of a fellow than I am a ‘sweat and toil amidst the plumes of smoke’ sort of a chap. A fact that doubtless shocks you to the core but there you are. I stroll along the harbour to reach the steps that take me up behind the pretty – if slightly out of place – pilot house and back to the path proper.
Once atop the cliffside – having paused to catch my breath and indulge in one last gander back at Porthgain – I reach a sign advising me that I’m entering a National Trust maintained area named Ynys Barry. The landscape takes on a dramatic change here as it bears the heavy scars of the mining industry. It’s unnaturally flat and eerily lifeless as well-worn pathways crisscross the landscape amongst the countless ruins of dark stone buildings. It is beautiful in its own way though. A beauty born of manmade devastation as opposed to that of the destruction caused by the sea that is so in evidence along this whole trail. A trail that charts a course through a coastline under attack, a scarred and ravaged landscape abused by man and nature alike.
This other-worldliness reaches a crescendo with the carcass of a building that looks to have at one time been a church sat isolated on the very cliff edge. Much of its original frame is still intact and is atmospherically silhouetted against the sky and sea behind – as is the large crow that sits moodily atop its one remaining peak. The earth around it is savagely torn apart rendering its position precarious and almost unreachable. It sits awaiting its inevitable fate, resigned to its own demise. The patient sea below will soon enough claim its bricks and mortar and with them the last echoes of the souls who once communed within its four walls. The maudlin spell is broken when a couple of overweight sheep emerge from within and stare at me incredulously, as if to say ‘what are you looking at, you weirdo?’

So there you have it. My third book; The Nomad En Suite is released today and available in the usual places. It tells the story of my adventure hiking the Pembrokeshire Coast Path and - whilst one doesn't like to toot one's own saxophone - I must confess to being really rather proud of this one. I've approached the thing in a slightly different way. Don't get me wrong, your enjoyment (or otherwise) of it is still largely dependent on whether we share a sense of humour, but if we do then I hope there's a bit more to this one as well. The reasoning behind this is that I finished the hike feeling a strong sense of obligation towards the trail itself, in terms of doing it justice in print. Both my previous books have been written about globally popular (and rightly so) trails and as such my offerings were added to a long list of others already in existence. Not so for the Pembrokeshire Coast Path. Although it is of course very popular in it's own right, it doesn't have the same recognition as the WHW or SWCP beyond these shores and, well, in my opinion, it should do.
With that in mind The Nomad En Suite has more history and anecdotes regards the places I'm passing through and as such is a slightly weightier tome. As I say though, still 'idiot goes on hike' when you really get down to it!
My mission for this one is that if you read it having already completed this incredible hike then it brings back some wonderful memories. And if you read it having never walked the trail that my humble text encourages you to add it to the old bucket list. Anyway - if you do me the honour of giving it a read then more than anything I just really hope you enjoy it.
Thanks all.