West Wales, Bank Holiday, 28th-31st August 2009 (436m)

Friday 28th

It hadn't been a good week. T was worried about his dad and K had had confirmation that her job was to be made redundant - we decided to give ourselves Friday off. The Rosabella had sprung a couple of leaks where T had fixed the roof in France so after gaffer-taping over the bolts we set off at around 4pm, heading west and south for St Davids. We took a stunning route through the Cambrian Mountains, listening to Chris Evan's Beatles request show and feeling smug as we heard Sally Traffic announcing chaos on the nation's roads - we tried to send a gloating text but there was no signal in the hills. We promised ourselves a return to this gorgeous area as soon as possible.

At the first bit of civilisation after the wilds we found a chip van, which we patronised before heading on for the site that T knew at Abercastle. It was, however, non-existant so we drove around for a while before esconcing ourselves on a site (which had a Rolf Harris CD playing in the spotless loos!).

                                                     Saturday 29th

A good night's sleep, a brief use of the facilities and we exited.

Back to Abercastle and a parking spot at the water's edge where we had a lazy morning being entertained by canoeists, walkers, kids and dogs (T was very taken with the idea of getting a canoe!) One highlight was an 'old man of the sea' who arrived in a tractor, hitched a boat on to the back and then drove across the foreshore to the water unaware of the fact that his boat had untied itself and stayed put. He looked very puzzled as he walked to the rear of his tractor, scratching his head, and then falling over laughing!

We decided we ought to do something and went for a walk along the headland for a mile or so. The coastline was spectacular and it was a warm, but breezy, day. Back at the harbour we talked with a family who had been canoeing. Smooth talking dad, polite but pretentious daughter and mum who said she could 'see blue gingham' working in The Rosabella's windows! T was still keen on canoeing though!

We reluctantly left Abercastle and headed for St Davids, on the way taking in Porthgain, another quiet little harbour. The Shed seafood bistro had been recommended to us but unfortunately plans for an evening out had to be shelved as they were fully booked. We reserved a table for Sunday lunch instead. St Davids was wet and busy. We went in to the cathedral where the choir were practicing for Evensong, and spent twenty minutes in reverie, listening to the voices reverberating around the space. Back to the real world and after a cuppa and a cake in a cafe that seemed to be run by twelve year olds we set off to find an overnight site We had toyed with the idea of staying at Abercastle but weren't sure. After a lot of to-ing and fro-ing we took one last turn into a lane which led us to Abereiddy, a small bay, bounded by rocks and with a good sized carpark. There was the usual 'Overnight Parking Prohibited' sign but noone was around apart from a small MH at the far end of the carpark so we decided to take a chance, hid ourselves in a corner and enjoyed a K special of tuna pasta with wine and soft music, the sound of the ocean in the background, and a lovely, peaceful, night.

Sunday 30th

We enjoyed the solitude of the spot before the influx of surfers, coasteerers and walkers. We lolled in The Rosabella for a while and then headed off to Porthgain for our Sunday lunch. The Shed lived up to its billing - although it was pouring with rain outside, the interior felt light and summery. The place was simple but classy and our meals were superb.

Back at base camp we took a walk on the beach in the dark, and a surprisingly warm paddle, before turning in for the night.

Monday 31st

The final day of the Bank Holiday and it was lashing down. Nevertheless the little beach was very busy with wetsuited families. We did see one couple going for a dip in their swimmies and when we went for a walk to the blue lagoon we bumped into them. They confirmed that it had been 'fresh!' and so, on our return to The Rosabella, we decided that it had to be done. We raced down the beach like ten year olds and splashed around in the cold, grey-green water. It was exhilarating to say the least and the source of some amusement to the onlookers. The couple parked next to The Rosabella said that they thought we were mad - T told them we were trying to save on soap!

We spent the rest of the day watching the world go by, leaving at 6pm for home, feeling completely relaxed. We must go back some time when the sun is shining!

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The Rhinogs, 21st-23rd August 2009 (222m)

Friday 21st

We left T's house at 6-ish, not sure where we were heading for! We discussed an overnight at Cae Ddu, maybe Dinas Mawddwy but in the event kept going. T remembered a carpark for the Roman Steps walk in the Rhinogs, north of Barmouth, so we decided to head there. We ignored Tomtom (as you do!) and ended up on a very narrow, very steep, very overgrown, very twisty (5-point turn hairpins!), very gated (good exercise for K!), very dark, very spooky lane. We eventually arrived at the carpark to find that half a dozen others had had the same sleepover idea. There were a couple of woodfires twinkling, we found a spot next to a stream, had a glass of red and hit the sack.

Saturday 22nd

Awoke to a beautiful morning and a gorgeous site with a stream, trees and surrounded by mountains. (One of the beauties of arriving in the dark is the lovely surprise you inevitably experience when you awake in the light). We had a leisurely breakfast, washed our teeth in the stream and paid a very chatty man £7 for the overnight stay.

We headed off up toward the Roman Steps, crossing paths with a party of lads who were looking for a fork in the track - unsuccessfully! They eventually headed off across rough ground and vanished.

We reached the top of the Steps and struck off left to a weird shaped double cairn for our sandwiches and water.

After messing about for a while taking photos we decided to carry on to the main peak, Rhinog Fawr. A pleasant walk up to a small lake and a view of an accident waiting to happen in the form of a group in jeans and sandals climbing a very steep, loose, gully.

We took the decision not to go to the top but to wend our way down via another lake described as 'stunning' in the guide. We saw the group again, on their way down, lost and spread over the hill. T directed a couple of them down but we heard later that the mountain rescue team had had to find one of them on the far side of the hill.

We struggled a little on a heather-covered boulder field, K in particular finding the descent uncomfortable, but eventually found a lovely vantage point above the lake with views out to sea in the distance and the sound of a rushing stream from way beneath us. We dallied, regaining our breath and equilibrium after the dodgy descent and then followed a simple path down to The Rosabella after 7 hours on the hill.

We swilled off the trail dust and changed out of our 'uphill' clothes. K put on a long dress and make-up and lit candles while T found some soft music to accompany our very improvised dinner of pasta and chillie tomato sauce. It was a wonderful end to a great day.

Sunday 23rd

Took ages to wake up for a change - even T was dozy instead of the usual instant switch-on. Enjoyed no 1 breakfast and were collared by head keeper for our site fee - this time we let him engage us in conversation - only for half an hour!

We carried on up to Alan and Norma's, in Rhos-on-Sea, for a nice lunch and then home via Betws-y-Coed, where K, with next winter's adventures in mind, topped up her supply of base layers. Arrived home 7ish after a good weekend.


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Llanthony Priory, 7th-9th August 2009 (182m)

riday 7th

T arrived in Hereford to pick up K at 6.30ish after work and we headed south for the Marches. Tomtom managed to take us down an ‘unsuitable for motor vehicles’ road (track, actually) necessitating some seven-point turning, although it wasn’t a major event. After driving a few more miles we found the Priory campsite amidst the hills and in a field next to the ruins. The farmer was initially reluctant when K told him we were in a MH but was welcoming when she explained it was a Rosabella, not a Winnie. We found a quiet spot, parked up and went for a beer in the pub that is built in to the ruins. When we returned the site had filled up – a few lads were throwing a rugby ball around, and there was an impromptu, and very amusing, sack race (well, sleeping bag race anyway!). Next to us was a Reliant with a man sitting in contemplation, and a fellow who was belching for England.

Saturday 8th

We’d both had a very stressful week and so felt refreshed after we slept well in The Rosabella’s care. A quick brekkie and we set off for the top of the ridge, T promising it would be just a little stroll. It was very hot and we were looking forward to the breeze that gaining the ridge would bring.

The views were spectacular and we decided to carry on along the crest of the ridge for a circular route which T had devised.

We rested at the trig point for our sammos, with lots of other walkers passing by, including a group of Japanese tourists resplendent with their parasols – it was definitely not like France here!

We descended past hidden waterfalls and through head-high bracken, down to the road and what seemed like an interminable slog back to the site. Our ‘short stroll’ had taken 6½ hours and everything was aching!

A quick wash and change and a walk to the pub (The Half Moon) for great food, even better beer and an interesting evening in the company of a man from Malvern who designed and made assistive technology – right up our street – although we all made less and less sense as we enjoyed the beer. We swapped addresses though, as there may be some scope for us to talk again.

We strolled back through the, by now, dark fields to The Rosabella and were fascinated to see a UFO rise from the fields to our right, straight up to quite an altitude and then away to the west. We realised it was a lantern – it looked beautiful, although a little spooky as it drifted silently away.

Sunday 9th

Mr Reliant and Burpman had been joined by their friends - all bikers or ex-bikers. We nattered to a couple of them - one with a self-build with whom we swopped ideas about insulation.
It was very hot and we had lunch outside, watching the world go by. We were very relaxed, if a bit achey from yesterday's exertions, although it was well worth the pain.
We had a relatively quick trip home, via Hay on Wye for ice creams and book browsing - altogether a good relaxing weekend.


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