Day 46
Briton Ferry to Margam: 10 miles
Apology of the day: The little old lady in Margam
Reason: I know P scared you so much by parking his car in front of your house today that you called your daughter over from across town to check on him. You were probably even watching from behind your net curtains while she talked to him about what exactly he was doing there. He really was just waiting for me to show up. I know he probably looked terrifying but really he just needs a haircut. TATA steel has quite good security through your vigilance though.
OK, another one of these days
So, the main thing you need to know about this walk is that when you tell Welsh people you're walking the Wales Coast Path, and say you walked through Port Talbot, they screw up their faces and go 'Oh, ewww, really? Port Talbot? Why would you walk through Port Talbot?' Everyone, I assume, except for the people of Port Talbot.
This is because Port Talbot is known for steel. It's currently home to TATA steelworks, one of the largest steelworks in the world. To set the scene properly for you, Director Ridley Scott once said that it was this smokey, flashing, one mile long steelwork that inspired his vision of the future world in Blade Runner. So basically it was awesome and I want to write pages and pages about what a great time I had.
Or not. I started off in Briton Ferry, home to its own industries set alongside remnants of the unique Brunel designed 19th century dock that the council only half tore down before the local historic society managed to get an injunction (insert appropriate British terms for the above organizations and legalese). Actually, the only thing that actually bothered me in Briton Ferry was walking past the typical suburban four story block office building. Seeing people inside there scurrying around like ants just made me inexpressibly sad, even if in my own day was going to consist of inhaling steel plant fumes that made my throat vaguely itch, it was still better than being stuck in one of those people's cubes.
Anyway, leaving Briton Ferry you hit Abervaron Sands, a lengthy and very pretty beach whose only real problem is that the view ends abruptly in a giant steelworks. On the plus side, said giant steelwork has clearly funded quite a bit of work on the promenade here - from massive steel sculptures to a futuristic bathroom to outdoor cafes to fancy and new looking steel benches. Although my favorite thing on the prom was the inexplicable concrete(?) flat whale that seemed to be almost painted like a fresco, surrounded by weird fat little penguins on icebergs. That was something. As a beach, I would actually go to Abervaron Sands (I'd just make sure to look towards Swansea).
After leaving Abervaron, it became apparent that the cafes and beachfront so enjoyed by the steelworkers wives and about a thousand children all dressed in the same outfits were, as I like to say, lipstick on the pig. Behind this, the trail cuts through highways, bridges, and the streets of Port Talbot and Margam. Some of Port Talbot immediately made me think of Belfast. And not nice parts of Belfast now. Like scary parts of Belfast in 2002 (I can't speak to Belfast before that - and truth be told I actually like Belfast - but parts of it are not very nice).
This all got even better when I got lost. I took an early turn off the highway towards the town, thought I was in a place I wasn't, and then wandered back and forth around the high street of Port Talbot with only a fancy dress shop with a crumpled Donald Trump mask on display as a landmark.
When I finally figured out where I was I was hot, sweaty and annoyed, which is never a great combination. I wandered the path through brown suburban developments toward Margam, met P who, having learned from the Caswell Bay experience about what to do when you don't find me on the road, was patiently waiting in his car. Figuring he'd scared the woman whose house he'd parked in front of quite enough for one day, we called it a day.
So, Abervaron Sands was nice. Let's focus on that. And there were hills behind the towns that looked nice. And I hear there's a castle and an abbey and a lovely church. None of which I saw. But let's end this post focusing on the existence, somewhere, of those.
