Carmarthenshire

The youth hostel was a great success.  Except for the army firing range, next door on the cliff.  Throughout the evening there were a few super-loud bangs as they fired something at something.  I felt feeling recharged, literally and metaphorically. 

After complaining about the lack of traditional Welsh hospitality in the wildest bits of Pembrokeshire  national park yesterday, Wales has laid it on thick today.  At the YH they opened the restaurant  and laid on the full breakfast  offering just for me  with a full range of foods.  It would have been rude not to try everything. 

Tenby harbour 

Round the corner was Tenby, stunning in the sunshine with everything a tourist could want, including blue plaques for several famous people.  Over a hill to Saundersfoot, where family Lambourn learned to sail (sort of) fifty years ago.  My memories of it are fading but I think we were all extremely  good at it, probably the best students that have ever had.  On our final day my brother and I even competed in a race, by mistake.

Saundersfoot

On the way to Saundersfoot I bumped into a couple of cyclists I'd seen yesterday in Pembroke Tesco's, Susan and Andrew.  They are riding NCN route 4 in stages.  It turns out they live in Nailsea, near Bristol and near where my sister lives, and Andrew's sister lives in Twickenham.  We are almost like family, so I decided to share my Welsh cakes with them.

Cycle path

Saundersfoot still has a sailing school, probably still trading on our reputation,  and what's more it has a completely  flat cycle route round the coast, including a few tunnels through cliffs, for a couple of miles.  Several nice seaside villages led to Pendine Sands - another one.  This one had a museum of speed and a military firing range, so it was probably the more famous one. 

A few more miles led me to pretty Laugharne, pronounced Larne, aka Talacharn, which caused much confusion in a discussion with my new family members Susan and Andrew.  Laugharne, on the river Taf estuary, is famous for Dylan Thomas and has a very impressive castle.  Plenty of cafes and pubs too.  A great morning.

Laugharne Castle

Talacharn 

Dylan Thomas' writing hut overlooking the Taf at Larne

The afternoon  was less exciting but still had drama.  My general direction was north to Carmarthen, about 20 miles and seemingly packed with hilly lanes.  My lunch was not up to the challenge of powering me so it was hard going.

At one point I came down a particularly  steep  winding and scary hill to find a car crash had just happened  at the bottom..   A car came down to find a Tesco van stopped at the bottom to let an oncoming car pass.  The elderly car driver's foot slipped off the brake to the accelerator, and he just missed the Tesco van by driving into the verge, obliterating a direction sign and stopping against a tree.  Luckily he wasn't  badly injured, but must have been very shocked.  The Tesco driver  called 999 and waited, but there was nothing I could do to help so I left them to it.

Another lane, another hill later, and the Tesco van passed me.  The driver said all three emergency services attended  which is hard to imagine in that tiny lane.  I hope the gentleman  is OK.

It's forecast to rain early evening so I developed a cunning plan.  Eat in Carmarthen and find somewhere  to stay tonight.  A nice pub called Yr Hen Dderwen (The Priory Oak), a Wetherspoons,  fit the bill, and I'm hopeful that a campsite 10 miles further on will do the same.  Not much to say about Carmarthen except that it has a fiendish one-way system.

Leaving the National Park

Rain today.  Drizzle was was forecast from 6am so I was packed and away by 6.15.  There were still a few places to explore before leaving the national park, but they turned out to be damp squibs:  in particular  Sandy Haven, which I later decided must have been a tidal ford.  There were a couple of houses;, and the road ended in the sea; that's all.

Sandy Haven

After Herbrandston, a different type of Haven appeared above the horizon: a forest of oil storage tanks.  I was entering the 'conurbation' of Milford Haven and Pembroke, which would host me for the next 30 miles.

Lumpy narrow lanes gave way to smooth oil-financed tarmac as I passed South Hook Liquid Natural Gas Terminal.   Both sides of the estuary were dotted with piers to allow tankers to unload.  Sticking to the coast led me past marinas, yacht clubs and some nice seaside properties,  but no cafés, which was really my only interest by now.  Milford Haven town is a bit inland, and didn't get a look-in.  

Soon I was on the Brunel Cycleway, part of NCN route 4, which took me across the river Daugleddau on a high-level Millau-style Cleddau Bridge. Still no cafe.  In desperation I followed my nose and found a Tescos cafe.

The rain has been patchy and light so far, but it was forecast to be heavy all afternoon.

Pembroke Docks and the Cleddau Bridge

Pembroke Castle

By 1pm it started raining heavily as I was still exploring  the various extremities and headlands of Pembroke.  Pembroke  has a strong military  history with a large docks, an Admitalty Road, a Defensible Barracks (good idea - I wonder what happened to the other one?).  But not many cafes.  My last call before heading back eastwards was the coastal village of Angle.  My mood and my expectations were low as I passed the Pembroke Refinery and the customary lumpy road surface reappeared, but I was in for a treat.  A nice village with two pubs (both closed) leads to the beautiful  sandy cove, and I was delighted to find a perfect cafe by the beach!  Lovely food and a proper Welsh welcome - something which has been a bit lacking in National Park Land.

After that, it was rain, rain, rain and wind.  Miserable until I was completely  wet, and then, sort of OK.  Heads down cycling eastwards (at last),  I took a 2 mile detour over an army firing range to see Elegug Stacks, so you wouldn't  have to.  They're  impressive, and the noise of the waves was thunderous.

Elegug Stacks

A succession of nice beaches followed as the rain gradually died away. Freshwater West, long  empty and wild; Bosherston, a sandy, wave-lashed cove, and Manorbier, another sandy cove with dozens of people actually in the sea, surfing.  In between was Freshwater East, not so nice. I didn't  see a beach but the way out was up a wall-like road soaring up to the sky - most unwelcome after a long day.

Bosherston 

View of the coast to come

Manorbier

There was good and bad news on the accommodation  front.  More or less where I finished was a youth hostel, YHA Manorbier.   Bad news: no dormitory rooms (a 4 bed private room was an option at £39).  Good news: they have a camp site with proper showers, a drying room, somewhere  to charge stuff, and a cafe.  That was good enough for me.

Outside Manorbier  YHA

Manorbier YHA camping

A Day without Wi-Fi

Completely different  weather today.  After yesterday's  sunny 24 degrees, today is cool, misty and a variety of precipitation, quickly changing between threatening to rain, light drain and proper showers.  It rained continuously  for most of the night - noisy in a tent.  I slept well though, and it had stopped by dawn, when I woke.  I dawdled over packing up, and eventually left to see Whitesands Bay  just down the road.  It didn't  live up to its  name due to the tide being in.

St. Justinians

Zig-zagging round St David's I visited St Justinians,  offering trips to nearby Ramsey Island backed up be a reassuring(?) number of lifeboats.  Then to a tiny harbour, very picturesque in a misty rocky cove, Porthclais.

Porthclais

The road, heading east now, bought me back to St Davids, but it was too early for the cafes to be open.  The cathedral is impressive but nearly invisible until you are upon it, as it's  built in a valley, unlike most of the city.

St David's Cathedral

I hit the rolling main road to Haverfordwest  for a bit, stopped at the larger village of Solva for a full Welsh breakfast with Welsh cake,  and then turned south towards the expansive Pendine Sands, down a massive hill, then back up and over to Broad Haven.  I was exhausted.  By the time I'd climbed over to Little Haven,  I'd only done 22 miles but 700 metres of climbing, a whole day's worth.

Pendine Sands

Broad Haven

Still heading south into the wind and rain, I entered quieter countryside: the hills are a bit less steep and the places seem more off the beaten track.  At Marloes I was lucky to find a pub so stopped for lunch,  just in case.    Good plan: when I came out it was sunny.  But I also found that despite many options for hostels  and camping, very few are available.  In the end I found a farm campsite unexpectedly, set up my soggy tent to dry, and set off south to Dale head and St Anne's head without panniers - bliss!  Lovely roads round there, with expansive views over the sea, with a few oil tankers hanging around for Milford Haven.

Day trips to Skomer, or diving?

Dale Head

Coast path

Coast

No cafés  on the route  - a serious omission - so I rode back to the same pub at Marloes for an early evening meal.   While we're talking omissions: no wi-fi all day today, and my phone needs recharging, so I'll post this without photos and add them later.

The First Hill

Setting out on a cycle tour is a special moment.  Leaving a warm, secure house with the regular ways of living on a simple bicycle, for the unknown.  What have I forgotten?  The extra weight is noticeable at every stop-start, and every small rise.  Did I bring too much?

This year I'm definitely  carrying more weight, as I have some cooking stuff.  Meths for the stove is heavy.  And a bulky, but light, sleeping mat which might help keep me warm.  Was it a good idea?  We'll see. 

The forecast thundery showers didn't  materialise as I cycled to Ealing for the first of three trains, the Elizabeth line to Reading. In some ways, the train journey feels the most risky part of the trip, because you're not in control, and you have limited alternative options - train delays, missed connections, or rail replacement buses can all derail your journey, especially  when you have to book your bike onto a specific train.

After allowing plenty of contingency in my schedule  for delays and refreshments, I spent more time waiting for trains than on them in my journey to Wales.  I arrived at Newport just after 10am and got the train for Fishguard.  The journey was a reverse preview of where I'll be riding, but without the hills and hard work.  Lovely.  Everything  ran on time and I arrived at Fishguard & Goodwick just before 2pm, in sweltering sunshine.

My start point is just outside Fishguard, near the ferry terminal and next to the first hill, which I climbed twice.  Once to a viewpoint looking over Fishguard Harbour, and then again to set off towards St David's to the south.   The road is generally at a highish level, 150 metres or so but my route frequently visited seaside places which are at a lowish level, 0 metres or thereabouts. So, plenty of hills. 

The roads were empty but strewn with wild flowers - cow parsley, celandine, campion and bluebells made for a colourful and nose-tinglung ride.  A stiff breeze was mostly defeated by the high and verdant hedges.   Highlights were Strumble Head (lighthouse)  Abercastle, very quiet cove, Porthgain (an old slate and brick making port, with several eateries. 

I wasn't  sure where to stay, aiming for somewhere near St David's, but most of the many options for hostels or camping were unavailable.  Ended up at Whitesand Bay campsite, but too late to check in and buy a token for the shower, not great.  On the plus side, St David's was only two miles away and I found a lovely pub with great  food.  After a lovely, hot day, rain is forecast tonight, so I need to get back to the campsite.

Continuing adventures on Jura

(It seems I never published this post from ... 2017?  Sorry.  Here it is now.)

It's tricky to follow the bombshell news of Odysseus' visit, but I'll try.
I hurried round the Long Road to my B&B, which is called Tigh an Doran: house of the otters. The house was abandoned some time ago and otters moved in. They are still often seen in the garden and on the beach, just across the road.  (Now there is a big Alsatian living here so perhaps they don't visit so much.)
Nice views from the road back to the forbidding side of Islay, and a few groups of deer watched me cycle past without looking in the least bit worried.
There is one pub on Jura, coincidentally called the Jura Hotel, (opposite the Jura Distillery) and I had a nice meal there, with views over the bay and the football pitch, which is also the campsite, it seems.  As I sat down to eat, three young lads were walking unsteadily from the jetty across the campground, with very unsuitable luggage.  One had a suitcase with wheels, another was struggling with two bulky holdalls, and a couple of carrier bags.  The audience in the pub was agog. Were they going to camp? They had just come on the tiny ferry from Tayvallich, a rigid inflatable boat.  The ferryman came into the pub and with a laugh announced that they were all pished.  To our surprise, they managed to erect the tent, but one of them seemed very tired and kept lying down on the grass, to our amusement.

Wales, here I come - at last!

It's been nearly three years since I said "hwyl fawr" to Fishguard, back in the balmy days of 2019, when Corona was an old-fashioned type of fizzy drink and PPE was a degree subject.   People shook hands, kissed each other, and blew on birthday cakes.  Since then, Covid has come and (nearly) gone, lockdowns came and went, and then a surge of staycations in September 2021 put the kybosh on my plans for a surprise visit last year.    Youth hostels were closed, unless you wanted to hire a whole hostel (smaller hostels) or a family room (selected hostels).  Campsites were only accepting multi-night bookings.  B&Bs had onerous cleaning requirements between guests, making one-night stays even less appealing than usual to the hosts.  It was tricky to find somewhere to stay.

Will it be better this year?   Well, youth hostels have opened their dormitory rooms again.   As for the rest,  well, I will find out.   I've been practising some wild camping, just in case, which went ... okay ... 

The plan for 2022 (and 2020).   (Fishguard upper left.)

I am ready for action.  In fact I can't wait.  I leave for Fishguard early on Sunday morning.   Nothing else is booked, but there's a welcome in the valleys, and there are plenty of valleys.  And hills.  To celebrate, South West Railways have cancelled all trains from Twickenham.

If you are used to receiving an email every time I post something, unfortunately that won't be happening any more: Google have withdrawn the ability to subscribe to new posts on their blogs.  (Apparently you do still get an email if you previously subscribed.)

If you would like to follow my exploits, please just check this blog as often as you like during the second half of May.    I'll try to post something each day.

A memorable two weeks

Well, that was one of the best non-holidays I've ever had.   The weather was fantastic: wall-to-wall sunshine every day; the Welsh scenery was gorgeous, all the spring flowers out in their full glory.   And - everywhere was so quiet!   It seemed to take a lot less effort than previous years, too.

The only slight problem was the lack of accommodation, cafes, or even the ability to visit Wales.  Of course, I didn't go, but I did think every day of what I was missing.   Whenever you're ready, Wales ...