Start Date - Friday 16th August 2013
Work in Progress, please check back when complete.
Pembrokeshire 2 - 16th August
Leaving Warwickshire around 8pm on Friday evening we took a slow drive to the area we were to visit, stopping only a few times to get some food and drink from KFC and to watch as the International Space Station flew over. This is quite a formidable sight if you know what you are looking at and can grasp the marvel of putting such an item in space! More details of when and how you can watch this fly over are detailed here... http://issdetector.com/
My driver had already made the decision to stay at Freshwater West, as both he and his girlfriend knew it had public toilets, was easy to park plus many other campers would be laid up there overnight. It was a bonus the next morning to see just how clean and taken care of the public toilets were for such a remote area. Rising around 8am after only going to sleep at 2am, they were both keen for the cup of tea they made in the back of me. This was quickly consumed so they could travel somewhere and have a cafe breakfast.
Day One
Not long after leaving Freshwater West they came across Castlemartin Pound, which they have been past before but not really taken much notice of? The pound was built in 1780 and used to impound stray cattle, which farmers would have to pay a fine to get back. There were no details of when it was ceased to be used in this way, but the signage details how it was restored in 1972 and is now a hidden communal garden. Although it is small, inside the walls is quite serene.
My two had the foresight to take with them an Ordnance Survey map for the area, using this they travelled round the Cleddau Ddu estuary which holds Pembroke Dock and the natural harbour of Milford Haven. They were heading for Martins Haven with a idea of catching a ferry across to Skomer and look at the puffins...
Along the road on the return from Martins Haven they stopped at a cafe they spotted in Marloes, a small village about 2 miles inland. Clock House Cafe is so named due to the large Clock Tower opposite, and is full of little curios from local craft makers and inside the male toilet is a piece of large driftwood painted to portray a young boy clearly bursting for the loo.
My driver only spent a brief amount of time in the clock tower, this was for two reasons; firstly he was only wearing a t-shirt and as you will recall from the the issue over boats to Skomer, the weather was not at it's best! Secondly he was hungry - his girlfriend will often point out that it is easy to tell when he is hungry because he sways from foot to foot and has an impatient look on his face. Suffice to say, my driver doesn't deal with hunger very well. In this brief amount of time, he did manage to take sufficient pictures to recall key information about the clock tower later, whilst sitting in the cafe.
Surprisingly the cafe did not serve much in the way of 'breakfast food', no full English was available here so they both had to settle with soup and bread roll. Whilst not exactly what either of them wanted, it did fill a hole and they were able to continue their journey and using the Os map decided to head towards St. Brides Bay.
They were glad they found this little picturesque bay which comprised of a church, some lime kilns and a pump house for the former castle in the near distance, this castle is now a hotel. Placed upon a picnic table near the church was a collection of hand painted stones, with a sign saying "take us home". One of these stones had a seagull painted upon it, which my driver collected and will serve a purpose within other parts of this blog, for details about this click here... (details of Bertie Basset and Stand-In Seagull)
The history of the pump house was adequately detailed inside it, including a reference to my driver's neck of the woods where it outlines how the engine was manufactured by Tangye Engineering at their Cornwall Works in West Midlands. It is worth noting here that my driver grew up in Birmingham, albeit nowhere near Cornwall Works.
After leaving St. Bride's Bay we stuck to the coastal road passing through Broad Haven and approached another picturesque village named Solva. My driver commented on how it reminded him a little of Looe in Cornwall, with it's harbour and 'arty' feel. Stopping in the main car park, they took a walk through the village and found an art gallery with a cafe hidden round the side. Both of them spent a few minutes looking at the artwork before quickly realising it was not to their taste and they should make an exit before the occupied owner Raul Speek became free and latched himself on to them like he had with the uncomfortable looking couple who were standing next to him, clearly trying to find a polite way of walking away.
The village was only small and looking around it didn't take them very long. The came back to the main car park and visited a little cafe just off it called "Thirty Five". This was a fantastic little cafe, even though the only entrance was through the faulty sliding patio door? Whilst my two were waiting for their food another customer put a lot of force in to opening the door and snapped the handle off in the process. The staff were more concerned about the small cut he had on his hand rather than the handle itself, apparently the owner had gone off to find a replacement part but unfortunately the handle incident happened before he had chance to return. There was a suggestion amongst some older people in the car park that the cafe should have closed whilst the door was faulty. However I know my two were certainly grateful that it wasn't! They treated themselves to cream teas and used the free wifi to access eBay whilst they waited. Their food was served by an adorable little girl whose name they failed to get, but my driver's girlfriend did note how she believed she must be the youngest waitress in the world. The young waitress' thought process was evident when asked for the wifi password - initially she said they didn't have wifi, then returned when my driver was absent from his seat. She spoke to his girlfriend and stated, "Your husband wanted the wifi password? Or boyfriend? Or Partner?" then paused for a few seconds pondering what she had said before continuing "Or whatever?", and then providing the password.
After leaving the cafe, we continued North along the coastal road, passing some strange concrete bunker along the way? No idea what it was, even with my two going up to it and investigate. Whilst stopped to look at this bunker, they were able to pay closer attention to one of the roadside posters advertising the "Solva Regatta" on the following day. They decided they would return to Solva the following day, if nothing else dissuaded them. What laid ahead was unclear because they were now off their OS Map, so a decision to visit St David's Head was made with the intention of then travelling to Haverford West to buy food for that night's supper.
The city of St. David's is quite a busy place, and did not appeal to my two enough for them to stop and admire it's attractions. This was, they decided, something that could wait for a return journey. We parked up in a small passing place opposite a campsite, and my two donned their hiking boots for a journey across the well defined path to the Most Westerly Point of Wales. Although the path was well defined it still took them about 1 hour to reach their destination, a journey which enabled them to see some wild ponies prancing around near the cliff edges before hastily moving themselves to higher ground so they could intently stare at my two with what appeared to be a "what are you doing here?" expression about them.
Using GPS, a map and their own collective instinct, my two found the most Westerly tip and decided to take a photo of themselves sitting on the rocks at the very location. It was marked by the ruins of an old building, not immediately obvious to the untrained eye, but the four walls and entrance were quite clear once they were identified from the surrounding rocks and mounds of soil.
Leaning against one of the walls was a couple aged in their late thirties, both of whom were using binoculars to spy out in to the channel of sea between where we were and Ramsey Island. After failing to get his camera phone to stand up due to the quite brisk wind, my driver approached this couple and asked if one of them would kindly take a photograph for him. The male party volunteered his services without hesitation, my driver would later secretly Christen this man "Dave", for a number of reasons but most of all;
Something the should be explained here, my driver is quite a resilient person and can deal with most situations that are thrown at him. His girlfriend is very friendly and quite easily engages in conversation with people. Their downfall is that both of them have the habit of laughing at the most incorrect of times. Dave positioned himself and raised the camera to take the picture but immediately lowered it again to chat to a walker coming down the path towards him, both my driver and his girlfriend expected it to be a brief chat which would soon end and the picture being taken a few seconds later. This was not the case! Instead a repetitive cycle of Dave raising the camera to take the picture, getting distracted by the walker and lowering it again ensued. This went on for several minutes, and the bizarre situation left my two sitting and giggling like a pair of pre-pubescent schoolgirls! After an estimated seven or eight minutes my diver realised that the battery may run flat and prompted his girlfriend to persuade Dave to take the picture. My driver was not able to ask himself as by now he was suffering from mild hysteria combined with a growing feeling of frustration. Approaching Dave and suggesting he hurries and takes the picture would probably ended in quite a different way to what it actually did. My driver's girlfriend approached Dave and pointed out that the battery was probably draining and the picture would need taking before it did. Dave apologised profusely and raised the camera in the same way he had done several times before, however rather than taking the picture he lowered it again and proclaimed "Oh your battery is already dead!". My driver started to chuckle partly from disbelief and partly from amazed frustration.
Dave was able to redeem himself with my driver's girlfriend by pointing out some wild porpoises and seals out in the bay. My driver was not so easily appeased, but chose not to mar the evening by not being ????? over the situation.
My two trekked back across the landscape from a different direct to which the went, crossing through a farm for "Children from the City". Loading themselves back in to me, we set off for Tesco in Haverford West where they bought some tinned chicken curry and naan bread, we then made the return journey but hit the coastal road a little further south, only stopping once for them to view the ISS fly over for the second night running. Their final stop was at Nolton Haven where they found a quiet little carpark with an onsite toilet to lay up for the night. Much respect needs to be paid to Pembrokeshire Council for keeping their car park toilets in quite a clean state. They heated their chicken curry and naan bread on the little day cooker in the back of me and put themselves to sleep for the night.
Day Two
Next morning they awoke and decided after they found a decent breakfast spot they would scout. out some of the local area a little further inland. They found their eating spot on a little single track road which appeared at first to just be the entrance to a farmyard, the OS Map showed otherwise and they carefully drove through a hamlet before coming to rest at ???????. Here they had breakfast before meandering around the country lanes looking for something interesting. Other than nearly stumbling in to RAF Brawdy because my driver clearly thinks Dead End and No Entry signs do not apply to him, the only other elements of the journey worthy of note were ????? disused airfield and these strange yellow arrows painted on the road. Such was the lack of stimulation my driver's girlfriend fell asleep for a short while, waken only by my driver trying to eject a wayward bee who appeared to be about to take residence in my rear area.
Following the yellow arrows we landed back on the main coastal road, and climbed over the hill to drop down into Newgale where we parked up whilst my two took a stroll to do a spot of beach combing. Coming back empty handed, they drove me back to Solva to enjoy some of the regatta. They purchased a bag and string from the local gift shop before my driver introduced his girlfriend to crabbing off the harbour. Failing to buy a bucket, they had nowhere to put the crabs they caught so resorted to just placing them back in the water. It was possible they were catching the same ones repeatedly, but they estimated they caught about 20 individual crabs. The tide was starting to come in and having a reservation at a restaurant in Tenby which was about 1 hours drive away, they put an end to their crabbing and we motored across the county so my two could eat at the quite plush restaurant known as The Plantagenent.
Finding a side street to park in, my two prettied themselves and dressed appropriately. He was wearing a faded dark pink shirt, made from light denim and she was wearing a clingy orange dress which was adorned with a printed flower pattern and a slit up the right hand side. Entering the restaurant it appeared the owner had forgotten to take make the reservation when my driver called a few weeks earlier, but this proved to not be a problem for the staff and they showed them to a corner of the restaurant next to a small window overlooking the gardens of some nearby cottages. Choosing from the menu my driver had ???pork??? and his girlfriend had ???fish???. The food was what can only be described as hearty, and left my two feeling very full. They took a walk down to the beach to ease their bloatedness, but as they approached heard music getting louder. Rounding a corner, the opening chords of Buck Rogers by Feeder could be heard and was played so well that it was mistaken for maybe being the actual band? Especially as they originate from just up the road in Newport! It transpired that a live music event was being played in the harbour, and a voluntary donation was requested to enter the harbour. The words voluntary and donation did not appear to exist in the vocabulary of the two henchmen at the top of the ramp leading to the stage area.
The sun had now set and my two weren't dressed for the cool breeze coming off the Bristol Channel so they headed back to where I was parked, moved me to an overnight stop, dressed in more appropriate attire and took a short journey back to the harbour. By now the tide was out, and they were able to navigate through the boats and avoid forceful donation collectors. Sitting on the beach with a couple of picnic blankets and their own supply of amaretto and coke, they enjoyed the live music for while until it ended and a substantial firework display was set off from the end of the harbour wall. Once the fireworks had finished, they gathered some loose coins which they both now had after changing their clothes and made their way up the ramp from the harbour depositing the coins in to the bucket as they did. Tenby Harbour apparently holds this sort of event every weekend throughout August, this is definitely something they will remember for next year.
Returning to me they set up the bed and fell asleep very quickly, this was likely to be from a combination of the fresh sea air, a very fulfilled appetite and the quantity of amaretto which had recently been consumed.
Day Three
Next morning I was left in the place I had been overnight whilst my two walked back in to the town and caught the first ferry across to Caldey Island. This was nowhere near as fascinating as they were lead to imagine, firstly there are no monks milling around on the island. Instead they have their own area which the public are not permitted to enter. The only interaction with the monks is the time prayers throughout the day when you can sit in the public gallery but are no photography was allowed. Walking up the long drive to the lighthouse was enjoyable as my two formed their own path down the shallow cliff to find a secluded place to sit and enjoy the passing of the warm sun and passing of small vessels in the waters below.
They walked in a circular route around the coastal path which then diverted inland toward the chocolate factory. Again this was disappointing, it's inferred that the chocolate was hand made by the island's monks, but this is not the case and sitting inside the old farm building was three youths who looked like they would be more at home behind the counter at McDonalds. My two bought themselves the obligatory souvenir chocolates and headed back down the main village area where they enjoyed another cream tea each.
Having another quick look around the village and sending postcards from the Post Office/Information Centre/Monestary Liasion they both set off down towards the beach, where all sorts of curiousities were found. A large sign warning of cables for any mooring boats, and old building materials like a section of sewer drain tunnel? The two of them spent some time on the beach area enjoying each other's company and before strolling back to catch the ferry to the mainland. Once they landed it was a short walk to where I was parked where they both got more clothes on due to the temperature dropping and started me up for the slow drive home.
Now those of you who have read previous blogs will note this is usually where the story ends...
During the journey my driver's girlfriend suggested visiting a viaduct which was marked on the map, it was near Cynghordy Station and still forms part of the active line which runs through to South Wales from The Midlands. There was no arrow highlighting it's exact location on the map, so a small wrong turn lead us to Cynghordy which is quite a strange place for trains to stop? There was no road past the station only one leading directly to it, a dead end with only a small turning area. This road appeared to serve only the station and a nearby house, which was derelict and appeared to have not be inhabited for some time. My driver who is keen on looking around old buildings left me in the middle of the road to go and investigate the house. There was no issues with leaving me where I was as it would have been very unlikely that a vehicle came up the road, it didn't lead anywhere? Besides there was nowhere else to park.
Approaching the front door of the house, he clambered over long grass, fallen branches and a few bits of building rubble. The front door itself was locked and the side windows were too dangerous with broken glass to attempt to step over the low wall on which they sat. Realising there was no way to access the house from the front, he walked around to the rear and found there was no external door here, just a ???aperture??? from one used to be. Standing in the kitchen he could now see the probable reason for why the house was derelict, soot and smoke damage covered the walls and ceiling. A dismantled Victorian iron range oven lay in one corner and my driver imagined this would have likely been where the fire began. Unfortunately the door from the kitchen was jammed so nowhere else could be explored.
My driver was joined by his girlfriend and together they discussed what a nice holiday cottage it would make, but my driver quickly realised that demolition and rebuild would be more cost effective than renovation. Whilst standing idly chatting about it, they both heard a loud bang come from above them, almost like something heavy had fell. The vibrations could be felt in the concrete floor beneath their feet, and my driver's girlfriend quickly hot-tailed it out of the kitchen and sat back in my passenger seat where she promptly locked the door. My driver was less phased and again tried the door leading to the main part of the house in the hope that he would be able to investigate the source of the bang. It was no good, the door was jammed tight and the kitchen was the only room which he could access. Realising this he retreated back to me and climbed in to the driver's seat. Strangely his girlfriend hadn't thought to lock this door? Continuing their journey, they discussed about the benefits of a holiday in this part of Britain and idly chatted on where such a place would be, coastal, rural, urban? The choice is yet to be made.
Rounding a corner the full side profile of the viaduct appeared in front of them, it is a fantastic piece of engineering and even in it's rural surroundings was quite a treat for the eye. At the base of the arches lay another small cottage, this one with a for sale sign outside. Their recent conversation still in their heads the two of them discussed whether this property would be the sort they would be looking for? This was until my driver spied something through the bushes next to the cottage, it was faded white marble about 5 feet tall, slightly at an angle as the ground had subsided beneath it and in the form of a Celtic Cross. Moving closer they could see similar manmade monoliths crowded in to the small courtyard, it was clear this was a small graveyard and further enquiries at a later stage revealed the cottage had an adjoining chapel. My driver's girlfriend still spooked by the loud bang from the previous cottage immediately dismissed this location as a holiday home, stating "Insert funny quip here".
The road passed through one of the railway arches and steadily climbed up and out of the valley towards a nearby reservoir named Llyn Brianne, my driver decided he would like to see this reservoir as they would be passing close by it and scope any potential overnight stops for the future. The road up to Llyn Brianne was quite innocuous and didn't prepare them for what in a few hours would be quite a daunting journey, but more about this shortly. Arriving at the reservoir they came across a slipway which my driver said he would love to have a go at kayaking down, signs about the place soon put an end to any thoughts of that! It appears that to even dip your big toe in the water will cause the descent of the security who seem to keep watch on the many CCTV cameras dotted around the car park. After they had looked around the reservoir and marvelled at it's size, they decided to continue their journey as it was getting late and both had work the next morning. Not wishing to backtrack along the road we had just travelled, my driver decided to continue around the reservoir head home from one of the roads leading off it at the top. What wasn't expected was the roads to be so narrow, winding and hilly that when the road finally parted from the reservoir it had already taken one hour! Realising that it would start to get dark soon, they both was a little concerned about the lack of street lighting, in fact they were a little concerned about the lack of ANYTHING! For the last hour they had not seen another vehicle, house, streetlight, roadside, nothing! The only reassurance they had were the sheep in the fields and that the road was tarmacked so surely it must be used?
The sun set and darkness came, but still they had not seen any of the afore mentioned signs of civilisation. To recap the situation and give you a flavour of what state of mind my two were now it; the day started with a boat ride to Caldey Island - a strange place with an ethereal feel about it, especially when away from the main crowd. A drive along a dead end road which resulted in finding a run down dilapidated house probably destroyed by fire and the strong possibility of someone having died there, also the added issue of the still unexplained loud bang originating from the upstairs of the house. Followed by finding a cottage for sale, only to also find it came with it's own graveyard! Now they had been driving on a road with only themselves for company and my headlights to see the road ahead. The situation was made somewhat worse by the fact the road was so windy in some places they were finding sharp bends immediately after blind summits. As it was too dark to see what was at the side of the road if they were to miss one of these bends, it became a nerve racking experience and forced my driver to slow down much more than he wanted, especially as they had at this stage been driving for over two hours! It also probably didn't help that before the sun set they had been making up their own horror story!
In the darkness all they could see were the occasional sheep's eyes staring back at them, until eventually they could see a light next to the road in front of them! At last some sign of reassurance that they were not the last two people left on Earth. But their hopes were premature, the light belonged to a old red telephone kiosk which no longer had a telephone in it. All this brought about was a reminder that neither of them had any mobile phone signal, and hadn't had any for some considerable time. My driver decreased his speed as he approached the red kiosk in order to see if there was any way of telling where they were, at this stage the map was useless because they had been driving for so long they had no idea how far they had travelled. As he slowed, it became clear the telephone box was next to small chapel which would have been right at home in a B-Movie starring Christopher Lee. Neither of my two are particularly easily spooked, but the ongoing situation they found themselves in was now starting to make them feel quite anxious. They had been driving for nearly two and half hours at this stage and had not seen another soul.
Salvation came about ten minutes later when, upon approaching a "Y" junction they could see a roadsign which would provide directions and hopefully a distance to a town with a recognisable name. Stopping next to this junction two vehicles came from the other direction and passed by, where they were going wasn't clear, unless they lived in a house in one of the tiny side roads off the route we had just taken? A few minutes after seeing these cars we approached a "T" junction where a right turn lead us in to Builth Wells and the real long drive home could begin!
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