Friday 1 August
@DerekTheWeather is not promising great things for this weekend. In fact he is spreading his doom and gloom in predicting heavy and continuous rain from Friday through to Sunday.
Herself and I were on the verge of calling off our weekend away in the van, but looking out of my office window at noon, I could plainly see that once again our Derek was on the verge of doing a Michael Fish once again. Except that when Derek gets it wrong no one complains because it turns out better than the tripe that he pedals.
By 12.30 I am leaving skid marks outside the gates at work as I make my way west to hitch up the van. While I inch it out of it's hidey hole, Herself shoots to Tesco to get in some provisions before we set off.
All was well as we made our way along the B4295 from Penclawdd westwards until we drew up behind an old git in a new Kia. 20 mph was his max, and we soon grew a very impatient tail. Not being able to see past the van, the aforementioned tail must have assumed it was another caravanner holding them up.
The arsehole in a Ford Focus immediately behind me started to lose patients, flashing his lights, leaning on his horn and gesticulating through his open window as he shouted obscenities in my general direction.
How I laughed when he wound up the elastic bands a bit on his 1.4L and had a go at overtaking. He was chancing it a bit by trying to pass me, but as he drew level and clocked the Kia in front it dawned on him that he was soon to become a feature on the front grill of the oncoming transit van.
He slammed on and fell into place neatly behind me where he belonged. Herself though it a little childish of me to slow down to give the Kia a little space in front!!
The approach to our site for the weekend was far from simple. the B4295 is tight in places, but is like an American freeway in comparison to the last 4 miles to site. The unnamed road that takes you over Kennexstone Moor into Llanmadoc and beyond is single track for the most part.
I've got a 1500kg white box following me, so I'm reversing for no one. The front of Miranda is lit up like a Christmas tree as we cruise the lanes and Herself has her eyes closed and her fingers are making an imprint on the dash.
We make it as far as Llanmadoc without incident, pass the Britannia Inn and fork left by the church. it was at this point that the wheels came off the chariot so to speak.
The lane is narrow, and the caravan sides are becoming rather familiar with the over grown hedges either side, we meet a young girl driving a little Peugeot, and I have grown a tail. She has to reverse, only she's not that good at reversing. I can see over her roof and she's only got 25m to go to a passing place, but even that looks a bit tight.
After 3 attempts she eventually gets going in a straightish line and I follow. Just before she gets to the passing place, some clever git in a Focus (what is it with them today?) skids into the passing place leaving the young girl to reverse further back down the lane. By now I can see she's close to tears and feel sorry for her. I take the opportunity to gesture at the arsehole in the Focus as we crawl past and also the time to wind down my window to thank the young girl, who by now is a quivering wreck sat in the entrance bay to Whitford Sands holiday park.
With relief I spot the entrance to our site and with overcast, but dry skies we are pulling up the slope into Phillistone Farm at 4pm. This is a first for us as we've never stayed on a site with no facilities before. We've got a hook up point for the electric, a tap for fresh water and a milk churn lid to lift off a flower pot with no base over a hole to empty our bog into. However, we do have stunning views over Broughton Bay included in the price.
The site only has 5 pitches, and they are massive. I'd been told earlier that we were on pitch 3, so without a welcoming committee we go about setting up. herself is worried about paying, but I tell her that "it's the Gower, and we are on a site owned by a Gower farmer, they;'ll be here soon enough for their money!"
True to form, as soon as I've wound down the legs and plugged in the electric he rolls up in his 4x4 holding out his palm in anticipation of a few purple ones being thrown his way.
It's not sunny, but it certainly isn't cold, so we sit out for a while taking in the view, and I spend some time reminiscing about happy times spent on the BIG dune over the other side of the bay when I was a kid.
Herself has invested in some curries from Tesco to warm in the Popdy Ping for tea, and no sooner they are ready than it starts to rain, and boy did it rain! All night!
Saturday 2 August
It rained last night, and it must have been heavy because it even woke me at one point. I was out for the count, when at 9am I got a text from my brawd, who has a static van at Broughton,commenting on the weather and how unexpected it was!
I peeled myself off the sheets, flung the door open and shouted to herself .... "@DerekTheWeather has ballsed it up again love!"
Herself did the shop yesterday, and I am horrified to note that we have no bacon, we also have no sausage, nor do we have any eggs. I am presented with a bowl of cereal and told to dig in.
There is only one other van on site, they have an 8 year old collie with them, and we both agree that if the dogs get on it will be OK to leave them untethered as the sheep are well fenced off in the adjacent fields. We spend a lovely morning playing with the dogs on site. Tali wants to play with Bobby, Bobby wants to play with Cerys, and Cerys just wants to fill Bobby in!
Herself had an accident last night. She accidentally drank her weekend's supply on wine in one evening, so an emergency trip for provisions is required.
We take a spin to Penclawdd, and CKs to replenish stocks and while there a few pasties and rissoles were thrown into the trolley for lunch. Back on site we have a lazy afternoon, and think about taking a walk down to the beach. It got no further than thinking.
With teas out of the way, Herself has a power nap inside and I play with the dogs for a while before falling asleep in a chair with the strong evening sun warming my chops nicely. Sometimes it's nice when @DerekTheWeather gets it wrong.
Both of us admit that we could go to bed there and then (8pm) but think better of it and head off out for a spin. First off we make our way back to Burry Green and then past the heaving King Arthur in Reynoldston before climbing up onto the top of Cefn Bryn to take in the view.
We some times forget what a beautiful part of the world we live in! The pervert's glasses get dusted down and we look over towards the promised land, picking out the pink tent on Y Maes and then following the coast to the North Dock and the Machynys Bay with the spectacular back drop of The Morfa!
The dogs need a stretch, so I put on a hoodie and get out. Herself is not moving and says she's cold. There are no flies on her and there's a reason why she is staying put. I am making my way from the parking area towards the edge of the escarpment, when only 75m on both dogs start to squat and shake! herself had given them a massive tea, consisting of 1/2 chicken each, and it was obviously starting to press a little.
Herself knows I'm no good at this, and is now in stitches as she watched me retching in front of startled hikers as I bend down to pick up, what was in total 5 bags of dog shit!
With my eyes streaming I can see her doubled up trying to catch her breath back in Miranda. She knew, she bloody knew!
From there we made our way to Oxwich Bay for a nose before returning to the van and settling down for the evening.
Sunday 3 August
Up and at em this morning. As soon as we woke it was straight at it to break camp. we're in no rush to get home, but want to be clear of the lanes before any normal people take to the road. With everything on Miranda's front end switched on to full we are pulling out of the site at 9.30am just after the sparrows have finished farting!
Our plan worked and we met nothing in the lanes.
If you listened to the weather men you'd never go anywhere!