'No pedestrian or emergency verge had been provided along this fast bend, and the cars speeding past him at sixty miles an hour were no more than three feet away' (J.G. Ballard, 'Concrete Island', 1974). A fair description of many country roads in Wales. No wonder Active Transport hasn't caught on.

I'm on the Wales Coast Path a short distance from Rhoose Point - southernmost part of mainland Wales. Photos to follow when I get a decent signal. Too hot to push on, so I'm going to call it a day soon, either in Rhoose itself or in Fontygary. Probably the latter because I know it's got a pub.

Today's trio have not only recorded an LP; they were featured on BBC Radio 3 last night. Fair play to the organisers for booking such a talented bunch of youngsters.

It was a close-run thing between Missy or the Master played by John Simm. But I reckon Missy could handle her drink better.

I'm glad I walked across town a few minutes earlier than usual. I've just seen my first Class 389 tram/train unit up close. It was at Aberdare station on crew familiarisation, between the scheduled passenger services.

From here, the sand continues all the way to Porthcawl and beyond. This time, the sky was clear enough for me to see the Somerset coast in the distance.

I returned to the path and meandered through the dunes for quite some time before finding my way to the west bank of the Ogwr.

A short walk south is Merthyr Mawr Burrows, an extraordinary landscape of sand dunes - including the highest in Great Britain, apparently. I climbed almost to the top of one and got boots full of sand for my trouble.

Then it's down the lane to one of the lesser-known castles on the Glamorgan Heritage Coast: Candleston. Less a castle than a fortified manor house, it was built between the 14th and 17th centuries. I don't know any more - I got the basic information from a plaque on the wall.

Once you're over Footbridge 2, it's a short walk to the village of Merthyr Mawr. I've been there twice before: thatched cottages and a gorgeous church. I nearly went inside, but a group of women were already there. I decided not to disturb whatever social activity was going on.

Here's a side of Ogmore Castle I hadn't seen before.

The first part of the walk was slightly confusing. The OS map shows a footbridge over the river north of Ogmore Castle. A closer examination tells you there are two footbridges - the first over the river Ewenny and the second over the Ogwr. You have to cut diagonally across a field to link them.

High tide was half an hour ago, so I've timed everything well for once.

Made it! Time for lunch on the seafront at Porthcawl. strava.app.link/DRnZ6XfnD4b

The race to the bus station is on!

I'm wondering if I should risk the stepping stones across the river, or follow the path upstream to a footbridge.

A quick Coke Zero later, I'm on track again. I told you Ogmore Castle wasn't far away, didn't I? According to the information, it was founded by the Norman lord of Glamorgan Robert Fitz Hamo, early in the twelfth century.

I'm not quite sure this money-saving deal is all it's cracked up to be.

The path led me away from the road, which was a good idea because there's no pavement, over a rise and back to the road. Ogmore Castle is a short walk from here - but some inconsiderate bugger has decided to put a pub in the way. It would have been rude to simply stroll past.

I've covered a fair amount of ground, following the Ogwr estuary upstream. Now I've crossed the road from Llantwit Major and the path is heading upwards. Bone-dry fine sand isn't the easiest surface to walk on, but I'll take it over black ice any day of the week.

I jumped off the bus at Ogmore-by-Sea because I didn't have time to pick up a bottle of water in Bridgend. It's still a hazy day but you can see Porthcawl in the distance. On a clear day you'd be able to see the north Somerset coast as well. This is where the cliff end and the sandy beaches start.

OK, so I went to look around the rest of the food stalls and found a bunch of astronauts outside the Senedd.

I'm chilling out with a pint of slightly sparkling lemonade (£6) from a Somerset producer, listening to a cracking blues band. In science fiction terms, I'm directly above of the Torchwood Hub.

The August 1980 edition of the short-lived science magazine OMNI (presumably published in July) ran a double-page Apple ad. I won't copy the whole thing as alt text now. The upshot was that if Jefferson had had a word processor, it wouldn't have taken him 17 days to draft the document. Clever idea.

I decided to come home via Cowbridge to save going through Cardiff on a match day. And in the town's independent bookshop I managed to plug a gap in my Christopher Priest collection. The day has more than made up for last week, fair play.

A seven-piece band wasn't what I was expecting. And so far they're brilliant.

Nearly every customer in the post office was doing the sort of 'everyday banking' they used to do in banks before politicians and journalists convinced the banks that 'everyone' was moving online. I, however, was picking up a parcel. Spending time with @dj-acid-reflux.bsky.social is never wasted.

Now I'm closer to the stage I can see them both.

I'm in the grounds of the castle after negotiating more levels of security than the average crypto transaction. Not many people here but maybe they're partied out after yesterday. The stage is fucking enormous. If Dua Lipa were bringing her show here, it would be suitable. This duo are totally lost.

In fact, it's the perfect accompaniment to my new purchase. I doubt I'll ever be up to playing this sort of groove on stage, but I can dream.