This walk was done in late autumn, on one of those crisp days where the sun was low but bright, and the wind coming off the sea cut straight through your jacket if you stopped moving. The drive down to Pennard was familiar — narrow lanes, passing places, and the odd dog walker’s car already tucked into verges. I managed to squeeze into the village car park, which by midday would have been full.
Boots on, jacket zipped, and map app loaded, I set off with the intention of making a steady loop out to Three Cliffs Bay. My wife joined me this time, wrapped in her thicker coat, and we joked that the cold wind would at least keep the crowds thin.
The path began on sandy soil that immediately reminded me of how unstable this ground can feel. It doesn’t take much for your boots to slip, so I kept a steady pace, watching each step. Within minutes the outline of Pennard Castle appeared ahead, the ruins perched high above the valley. We stopped long enough to take in the view: salt marsh below, estuary winding out to sea, and the jagged tips of Three Cliffs in the distance.
The ruins themselves are stark against the skyline. We walked through the archways and along the crumbling walls, imagining the vantage it once gave. Today, it’s a waypoint — a chance to orient yourself before dropping into the valley.
The descent toward the estuary was steep, sandy, and loose. I leaned slightly forward, keeping my weight over my boots, careful not to skid. My wife muttered about how easy it was for ankles to turn on this stretch, which is true — it demands attention. At the bottom, the marsh opened out, quiet apart from a few gulls and the sound of water channels slipping through the sand.
The estuary crossing depended on the tide. We’d timed it for low water, so the crossing was straightforward but still damp underfoot. My waterproof boots paid off here — hers less so, and she ended up with wet socks that didn’t make her any happier with me. We laughed it off and carried on.
The approach to the cliffs is always the highlight. The sand widened, the limestone peaks sharp against the horizon. The wind picked up as we neared the open beach, and the noise of it drowned out most conversation. A few surfers were out, dots in the distance, their figures dwarfed by the sheer scale of the bay.
We scrambled up the side of one of the smaller ridges for a clearer view. The footing was rough — patches of sharp rock mixed with loose sand — and I was glad for the grip of my boots. From the ridge, the view stretched back across the estuary and forward to the open sea. It was raw and spectacular, the kind of sight that makes the effort worth it.
The return climb out of the valley was steady but long. The sandy track took its toll on the calves, each step sliding half an inch back. My wife pushed ahead while I took it slower, focusing on steady breathing and sure footing. At the top, the castle ruins came back into sight, a welcome marker that the hardest stretch was behind us.
Back at the car park, the place was noticeably busier, even on a cold day. We dumped our gear in the boot and headed straight to a café in Southgate for something hot — coffee for me, tea for her, and both of us glad to sit down.
Three Cliffs Bay and Pennard Castle is never an easy stroll — the sand, the steep sections, and the estuary crossing all make sure of that. But it’s one of the most rewarding routes in Gower. On this walk, the cold kept us sharp, the wind reminded us how exposed these cliffs really are, and the bay itself delivered the kind of view that no photograph can do justice to.
– **Distance**: Roughly 3–4 miles (circular).
– **Weather**: Bright, cold wind, autumn sun.
– **Terrain**: Sandy paths, steep descent, estuary crossing.
– **Parking**: Pennard village car park — fills quickly on weekends.
– **Gear**: Waterproof boots essential, layered clothing, gloves against the wind.
