Clifftop paradise – hostel to hostel walking in Pembrokeshire

The walk between YHA Broad Haven and YHA St Davids is one of the most satisfying hostel-to-hostel walks in the UK, as Ben Lerwill discovers.

Not all Saturdays are created equal. Some slip by in a blur of household chores and mugs of tea. Others begin slowly and build to a climax — with a night out, perhaps, or a special meal. But the best of them start as they mean to go on, serving up bumper views and good vibes over breakfast then not letting up until the sun goes down. On which note, there’s a hostel-to-hostel hike you really need to know about.

The coastal trail from YHA Broad Haven to the diminutive city of St Davids stretches for just over 16 miles: a distance which, for those accustomed to the joys of an all-day walk, is long enough to require an early start and a proper yomp, but manageable enough to feel like a pleasure rather than an ordeal. Pulling back the curtains in our hostel room at 7.30am, my friend and I squint into the sunshine. Forty-five minutes later — a shower, a fry-up and multiple coffees to the good — we’ve got our packs on our backs and the waves at our feet.

YHA Broad Haven has precisely the kind of location you’d want from a seaside hostel, with bay views from the dining room (where, pleasingly, a giant whale mural decorates the ceiling) and ready access to the Pembrokeshire Coastal Path.

We pass a minute watching a solo surfer negotiating the offshore swell, then turn north and head up to the clifftops. Within minutes, the path verges fill with red campion and sea thrift. A tiny wren appears nearby, then a whitethroat. As we climb higher the views open out properly: waves, sun and sky fill the scene. There’s the tang of salt and seagrass in the air. Sixteen miles to go.

The 186-mile Pembrokeshire Coast Path, which by definition also forms part of the 870-mile Wales Coast Path, is one of our loveliest National Trails. It has the advantages of being a) easy to follow (keep the sea on your left and you can’t go far wrong) and b) lined with a seemingly never-ending succession of comely cliffs, coves and beaches. The section between Broad Haven and St Davids very much ticks both those criteria.

Just 20 minutes into the walk, as the May sunshine beats down and tiny trawlers chug across the metallic-blue infinity of St George’s Channel, our end-destination of St David’s appears in the distance: a huddle of white buildings at the very northern end of the bay. For the next eight hours it will hang on the horizon like a promise, and we clock the miles gradually, getting accustomed to the ups and downs, the breezy headlands, and the slabby, empty beaches. At Nolton Haven, where we pass nesting gulls, skylarks twitter overhead in the blue.

It’s just after passing an old colliery chimney — one of several crumbled industrial remnants that scatter the land — that we see the full two-mile expanse of Newgale Sands for the first time. “Wow,” says my friend, stopping dead. The tide is out and the beach is a prairie-sized colossus of smooth pale sands. It’s like something from a billboard. We pause and tot up how many human-shaped specks we can spot — barely two dozen across the whole panorama, although at least five deliriously happy dogs are haring around at warp speed. We stop for a pub-terrace latte and watch wing-surfers hauling their equipment onto the sands. The beach here faces broadly south-west, so when the conditions are right it’s renowned as one of the best watersport spots in the country. But while the wing-surfers head seawards, we head northwards again, following the waymarked path as it snakes above the spectacular, and often mind-bending, geology of the coast.

The next few hours are almost dreamlike. The day is at its hottest now, and virtually cloudless. As we walk, the giant cliff formations around us contort into ever more outlandish shapes. Their frozen-in-stone outlines slump and rear and cascade and roar, soaring high above the waves one minute then plummeting back down to sea-level in long, dragon-spine ridges the next. Here, a towering wall of jagged rock that looks like a monster shark’s fin. There, a serrated headland that appears as a gargantuan knife-blade. The modern compulsion to stop every five minutes and snap photos becomes genuinely irritating. Better, we know, to relish it all first-hand — and it’s some coastline to relish.

By the time the largely hidden inlet of Porthmynawayd Beach appears, complete with pebbly sands and twinkling seas, the prospect of a swim is irresistible. We plunge through the surf and submerge ourselves, thrilling in the breath-catching cold of the sea, then sun-dry while devouring sandwiches and fruit back on shore. The Pembrokeshire Coast National Park was first designated in 1952, and the Pembrokeshire Coast Trail inaugurated in 1970, although — we ponder, mid-apple — the simple joys of the region are effectively timeless.

And on we go, hugging the cliffs as St Davids draws closer. Early afternoon becomes mid-afternoon. There are waves and sea-winds, kestrels and bumblebees, postcard harbours and craggy outcrops. A baby adder, seemingly oblivious to us, slithers onto the trail-verge to bask in the sun. When the little village of Solva appears, the quayside is abuzz with families and ice-creams, then just as quickly we’re swallowed up again by the cliffs.

It’s 4.45pm when we reach St Davids. I can tell you this precisely, because as we enter The Farmers Arms — which continues the local trend of shunning apostrophes — the TV is showing live coverage of the FA Cup Final, seconds after kick-off. Sometimes these things fall into your lap. And when fate also serves you up cold beer, a seat for two and a pub full of Welsh football fans, you know the world’s smiling on you.

Later, well sated, it’s on to the finish line. The quietly charming YHA St Davids is based in a remote converted farmhouse two miles north of the centre (some might prefer to bag a lift for this final stretch) and very much continues to keep the scenery levels high. The rocky, 180m-high bulk of Carn Llidi stands directly behind the hostel, so we finish our walk at dusk by clambering up to its summit, watching the sun dip down behind Ramsey Island and pinching ourselves that sometimes, just sometimes, Saturdays can leave you feeling like the smuggest people on the planet.

Five other great hostel-to-hostel walks

YHA Castleton Losehill Hall to YHA Ravenstor

A glorious route through the dales of the central Peak District, finishing on the river. Stay at YHA Castleton Losehill Hall (pictured) or YHA Ravenstor.

YHA Brecon Beacons Danywenallt to YHA Brecon Beacons

A hugely enjoyable walk through the serried hills of this Welsh National Park. Stay at YHA Brecon Beacons Danywenallt or YHA Brecon Beacons (pictured).

Read next: Which brilliant birds of prey have you seen?