I do not have adequate words to describe just how stunning Pembrokeshire is. Around every corner is a brand new bay, turquoise sea lapping at the rocks.
It's too big to photograph, too beautiful, the sun will burn away the detail from my camera lens.
Wildflowers grow profusely, thick clumps of them everywhere, the air is thick with fragrance.
Speedboats loop circles in the bays below me as I walk high on cliff edges, my feet following the beaten dirt path.
The sun beats down on me, unrelenting. I am wearing factor 30 and my skin is still burning, so many hours outside, it's unavoidable.
I see cormorants, gannets, gulls, a myriad of small brown birds, perching by my sleeping spot, fluttering above me with beaks full of caterpillars.
The caterpillars! Tiny black ones, tiger striped ones, porcupine quilled orange monsters, I put my boot down to the stranded ones, they climb up and I can hobble to the edge of the path and flick them into the long grass.
I walk, I rest, I wave my flags, I eat food, I met friendly people, I give out symptoms cards, I collect donations, pound by pound they trickle into my tin. I keep going.

I'm overdue a blog post, overdue an update to this lengthy journey's diary and yet there's nothing to report, just that I continue to walk.

The days have grown longer, the temperature rises.  I can now luxuriate in daylight, take breaks without fear of losing temperature or walking time, sleep outside without a tent, plonk myself anywhere in green grassed solitude, no longer having to stop at a 5pm twilight, shrugging myself immediately into my featherlined cocoon, maintaining core temperature, keeping my skin covered. 
Summer days means carelessness, stretching out on my back, wriggling into last years dry bracken for a post lunch cat nap.
Summer means smells; hot coconutty gorse, fresh pine fronds, thick bluebells, grass, greenery, growth.

There are no stories to tell, I just keep walking.  My sister came for five days, we walked together.  I traversed the short 70 miles of the Ceredigion Coastal Path, started along the Pembrokeshire section for the first of two times I'll walk this.  I've seen a grey seal, thousands of bluebells, stuck my feet in streams, climbed endless steep cliffs, slept in fields, been sniffed by ponies.  These things are just small highlights in a day of steady steps, hours outside, hauling myself up slopes or along cliff edges. Hair blowing in the wind, I just keep walking.

There are no peaks of excitement any more; I'm surrounded by beautiful things and kind people every day and instead of the jumpy, flushed peaks of joy there is simply a deep satisfaction of life as it should be.  I walk, I manage my pain and discomfort, I cover the miles, there is nothing more.

It's simply a matter of mileage. I've come 2600 miles, I've struggled through pain, winter, mountains and just kept going, turning my legs to steely trunks. It's impossible that I would stop now.

There is nothing left for me to do but finish this; another 700 miles, more or less, give or take.  I just need to put one foot in front of the other until it's done.  No joy, no peaks, no expectations, just a steady parade of beauty and sunlight and pain and discomfort, delicious foods and friendly people, greenery, surprising birds and hidden sleeping places.  It will continue until it's over, I just need to keep walking.