Easter often marks a time for new starts, although for us it’s also become a season of gentle returns. Two years ago, we explored a different stretch of the Pembrokeshire, tracing sea cliffs and coves further north. This year, we returned to Pembrokeshire southern coastline, a place I hadn’t visited in nearly two decades. The last time I came this way, it was early in my working life, crammed into a my car with ropes, helmets and a group of fellow climbers, bound for the rugged sea cliffs. Now, with family in tow and trail shoes rather than climbing shoes on our feet, the journey felt both new and familiar. The coastline was still waiting, weather-worn and wonderful. And so we set off.
Day One: Hanbury Hall and the Road South
Our Easter adventure began with a leisurely departure and a historical detour. Hanbury Hall, built in 1701 by the ambitious lawyer Thomas Vernon, stands as a testament to William-and-Mary architecture. The red-brick house, nestled amid formal gardens, boasts famed staircase murals by Sir James Thornhill, depicting allegorical scenes that reflect the political and social climate of the early 18th century. We wandered the grounds, admired the intricate paintings, and let the calm of Worcestershire set our holiday tone. It was a really lovely property, graceful and welcoming, and one we all agreed we’d happily return to.
After stretching our legs, we pressed southwards, overnighting on the outskirts of Gloucester at a Holiday Inn Express. Functional, yes, but with beds that promised rest before the real adventure began.
Day Two: Easter Trails and Woodland Wanders
Sunday brought a swift supermarket dash and a surprisingly charming Easter trail at Tredegar House. This red-brick Baroque mansion, home to the influential Morgan family for over 500 years, holds echoes of the Charge of the Light Brigade and the beloved horse that saw its rider through that battle. A reminder that we all benefit from some support on our journeys. The house once boasted 20 water closets. We followed the activities through the gardens, part of a wider Easter trail taking place at all the National Trust properties, and enjoyed the energy of the spring sun.
After making good time to Pembrokeshire, we had time for a short walk through the lush valley of Colby Woodland Garden. Once part of Pembrokeshire’s coal industry, the estate now features a beautiful summer house in its walled garden, perfectly placed for reflection. We took in its design, admired its quiet charm and the lovely water feature trickling downhill. Then we wandered deeper into the woods, where we paused for some forest bathing, breathing in the damp, leafy air, letting the sound of birdsong and wind through trees restore us. Next came the final part of our journey. After parking the car and grabbing the cottage keys, we ended the day with a sun-drenched walk to Freshwater East beach. With the Easter egg from the morning clutched in hand, we descended the short path down to the coast. Simple. Perfect.
Day Three: Castles, Rain, and Ridge Runs
I started Monday with a sunrise run: ridge to beach and back, chatting as our rhythmic steps explored some of the local paths with my son. The sky was grey and heavy, although our morning felt light and alive. Then, with 8 km in the bag, we settled down to breakfast before setting out for Carew Castle and its remarkable tidal mill, the last tide-driven corn mill in Wales. With the rain holding off, we explored the tidal mill, returning to the castle just as the first of the heavy showers arrived. We picnicked under the sheltered area near the welcome centre, later hiding in the castle’s many alcoves during the worst of them.
Carew Castle’s layers unfolded: a Norman fortress turned Tudor mansion, still mirrored in the millpond across the causeway. Inside, oriel windows framed ghostly rooms and bat-friendly towers. A new bat to me, the horseshoe bat.
Groceries called next. Pembroke Dock’s Tesco supplied our week’s essentials, and there was something very satisfying about seeing the cottage cupboards stocked and ready for whatever the weather might bring.
Day Four: Rainy Castles and Creative Retreats
Tuesday arrived with a forecast for worsening weather. The plan was to make the most of the lighter rain, and then, when the weather deteriorated, retreat to the cottage. We made the most of the morning at Freshwater East, where my son engineered sand canals and dams in the rain, determined to sneak in as much play as possible before the heavy afternoon downpours began. We returned soaked but content.
The afternoon turned to quieter joys. Yoga for me on the cottage floor, then pencils out for sketching, books cracked open, and even a few games of Uno. Sometimes, the joy of a trip lies in letting the rain fall while the kettle boils and the pencils sketch. The comfort was definitely there, especially compared to other trips watching the rain from a tent, wondering when it would stop enough to go climbing.
Day Five: The Stackpole Circuit – Twenty Kilometres of Wonder
Wednesday’s plan was ambitious. The forecast was for improving weather, so I had mapped out a loop on Komoot, a coastal route connecting Stackpole’s treasures and extending Walk 4 from the Cicerone guidebook. Heavy overnight rain meant a slightly later start while the worst passed. Then we headed out, beginning with a short road section before crossing fields with wide countryside views. The woodland sections were wetter than on our morning run at the start of the holiday, although there was that lovely fresh feeling after rain, fragrant with wild garlic.
Soon we reached Stackpole Cheriton Church with its impressively oversized tower. Its proportions suggested power, security, or status. We imagined the statement it must have made centuries ago.
From there, we wandered through Cheriton Bottom Wood, where the water had turned muddy brown from farm runoff. Later, we discovered the estate had installed silt traps to protect the lakes, which had been formed by damming the river to serve the now-vanished Stackpole Court.
We found an infinity-style edge on one pond that intrigued us. It must have been an impressive view from the bridge at the other end, and there was some nice, elegant engineering close up. At the picnic room, we paused for a snack and took in the enormous floor map that let us trace our steps across the landscape.
We passed the stable block, now private housing, before entering the walled garden, where grapevines wrapped in wool hinted at a future vineyard. The garden is managed by Mencap, and we loved spotting butterflies, including a Speckled Wood, and listening for birdsong.
At the Stackpole Centre, we proudly stamped our National Trust Passports. This has become a tradition we treasure.
Then we headed down to the lakes, with lily ponds not yet in bloom. A grey heron watched from a tree, while otters, no doubt sensibly hidden, eluded us. From Broad Haven South, we picked up the coast path, swam and built sandcastles at Barafundle Bay, and continued to Stackpole Quay for tea.
Along the way were wildflowers in full bloom, Early Purple Orchids, a rare Violet Oil Beetle, and climbers setting up a hanging belay. We were all transfixed, binoculars in hand. My own climbing adventures on these cliffs felt like a lifetime ago.
The geology shifted underfoot, with limestone giving way to sandstone. As we neared Freshwater East, familiar sights greeted us. With 20 km walked, we climbed the hill back to the cottage for a well-earned dinner, photo sorting, laundry, and an episode of Steve Backshall canoeing through Bhutan’s remote rivers. Then a round of Uno before bed.
Day Six: Crossing to Caldey
Thursday dawned early. After a quick breakfast and drive to Tenby, we checked the Caldey Island Boat Company’s Facebook page and set off on foot to Castle Beach to catch the first ferry that had run in a while. The tide dictated our timing; boats ran only until 2 p.m., with a gap until 4:30. We joined a growing queue beside the tractor ticket stand, and soon two boats appeared.
The crossing took twenty minutes. The weather was glorious, and the beach near the pier sparkled.
We walked through the village, paused at the toilet block, then followed a trail to the lighthouse. We claimed a picnic bench just before the crowds arrived. The views across the Bristol Channel to Lundy were unforgettable. It was starting to feel like this trip would keep pointing back to memories of sea-cliff climbing. Lundy is another place I was lucky enough to climb during my university days.
The clifftop path on Caldey Island offered sightings of swallows, a song thrush, and a seal bobbing in the waves below. We returned through the island’s centre, visiting the ancient church (believed to be the oldest Catholic church still in use in the UK), the old monastery ruins, and passed by the chocolate factory.
A meander through woodland and past the old mill took us back to the village, where we peeked into more churches before boarding the return ferry.
Back in Tenby, we explored the National Trust’s Tudor Merchant’s House. Our guide introduced the origins of many phrases like “upper crust” and “dole,” which are remnants of Tudor life.
Then we walked to tidal St Catherine’s Island, where the Victorian fort loomed in disrepair. Spooky, yes, but still fascinating.
A circuit of the castle headland brought the day to a close. We grabbed supplies at the supermarket and returned to the cottage.
Day Seven: Manorbier by Train and Storm
Friday’s wild weather matched the complexity of our plan. Manorbier Castle wasn’t open on Saturdays, so this was our window. We donned waterproofs and trekked to the local request-stop train station, unsure how to flag the train. One of us, wearing a bright pink jacket, was “voluntold” to wave at the driver.
It turned out the train slowed for level crossings and didn’t travel that fast, allowing us to get the driver’s attention easily. Nine minutes later, we arrived at the next stop and headed for the castle, which opened at 10.
We rewarded ourselves with tea in the old guardroom café, then explored towers, battlements, and stories of Norman conquest. The views from the battlements across to the church and over the Bristol Channel were dramatic.
Next was the nearby church, where we caught the tail end of a Good Friday service and were kindly offered tea and squash by friendly parishioners.
Then came the 7 km hike home along the coastal path. Off we went with full waterproofs on. The wind was strong but at our backs, and despite the weather, the cliffs and views delivered.
Day Eight: Simple Pleasures in the Rain
When we headed down to the beach on Saturday morning for a swim, the sea was whipped into a frenzy by the onshore wind, making swimming too risky. So we made the most of the trip down with a short hike before heading back to the cottage. After a warm lunch, we returned to the stream by the beach, where Ewan and I spent the afternoon building dams and canals with buckets and spades.
There was something deeply satisfying in the rhythm of digging, redirecting water, and watching it find its way. A totally absorbing experience.
Day Nine: Deer Parks and Goodbyes
Sunday morning dawned bright and blue. I ran one last time to the beach, sunlight glittering on the waves. The moment is etched in memory.
We packed and cleaned, then set our sights on Dinefwr Park. Newton House was elegant, but it was the grounds that stole our hearts. We roamed the Capability Brown-designed deer park, lingered by a tadpole-filled pond, and followed woodland trails into the Wildlife Trust reserve.
The final ascent to Dinefwr Castle brought sweeping views across the Towy Valley. A last echo of Wales’ storied past.
From there, we headed north to Shrewsbury for the night.
Day Ten: A Temple of the Arts
Monday brought a slower pace. We stopped at Kedleston Hall, an 18th-century neoclassical mansion designed by Robert Adam. A Roman temple masquerading as a country house.
We wandered the halls, admired the symmetry, and soaked in the final moments of our trip. Then we went to the café for a round of jacket potatoes.
Epilogue
As we rolled homeward, sun-dappled memories and the scent of sea air still clinging to our clothes, it was clear this Easter had given us more than just days out. It had offered space to reconnect, to notice, and to be. The coastlines, castles, and quiet moments are now woven into the fabric of our family story, waiting to be revisited not only in future journeys, but in daydreams stirred by a spring breeze.