Rather than regurgitate words, please refer to the previous 3 or 4 blogs for an introduction. Regular readers will be all to familiar with the spiel by now.
Friday 3 September
Whilst I had a booking in the back pocket, Herself had only confirmed 2 days ago that we would be venturing out. Clothes and shoes had been loaded in by Herself (this is an important point that will become clear in the coming days) and the food went in late last night following a nocturnal Asda delivery.
We're both working today, but I've bagged an early finish at 3pm to get the van out onto the road and hitched up to Toyah. Herself finishes at 4.30pm and we're pulling away at just before 5pm.
Wagons Roll !!!!!!
Our joy at being on the road again is short lived as we hit a queue of traffic heading west at Crosshands. We clear that, cruise for a few miles than join another slow moving 4 mile long snake to clear Carmarthen.
We're already pissed off when my phone rings. I recognise the area code so know it's the site before I answer. The warden starts off feigning concern.....
"Are you still coming? Is everything OK?"
"Yes and no. We're coming but are gridlocked in Carmarthen."
Uninterested in our reply, he then he gets down to business .......
"You have to be here by 7.45 pm the very latest, otherwise we won't let you on site."
"Ok, cheers. Thanks for that!"
The old codger in a clapped out Pug 205 on the A40 between Llanddewi Velfrey (The only gay in the village) and Canaston Bridge did nothing to calm my nerves as the minutes ticked away! Thankfully I was able to get past him, leaving him chocking in a cloud of black diesel smut and make good progress for the remainder or the tow, pulling in through the site gates at just after 7pm.
Site arrival video below (filmed a few days later)
Although pleasant enough when he came out, the warden left us waiting 10m minutes ringing the bell while he finished his coffee.
Only 3 pitches available, but he have us the option of moving in the morning if we wished. No need though as one of those available we would have chose anyway.
We're losing light fast as we start to set up. Herself asks about the awning and I say I'm not too sure and maybe we'd be better off leaving it until morning. With the aquaroll full she asks again. Once again I say I'm not sure. I set the toilet and waste up, come back round the corner and Herself has unravelled the awning and is emptying the pole bag!!
She pretends she misheard me, but we've been married long enough for me to know otherwise!
The sun has long since dropped over the horizon by the time I've banged in the last peg and am able to announce to Facebookville that "We is arrived!!"
Thoughts turn to food, and Herself is fancying a bag of chips. At gone 8pm I'm not rating our chances, but play the game anyway. St Davids doesn't have a takeaway open of any sort. Herself seems to recall there was one on the approach to Solva. Wrong!! The pizza and burger shack on the campsite in Newgale doesn't appeal either, so we end up back in Haverfordwest before we can procure our evening meal. 38 mile round trip for a bag of chips mind!!
Saturday 4 September.
We wake and it's promising to be a nice day as I take the dogs out for an early morning walk.
Back on site I take the time to appreciate our surroundings before embarking on a period of personal contemplation in the Thor.
It's decided a drink in a beer garden would be a good idea, so after a splash of water to freshen up we head off out. St Davids is rammed so is given a wide berth, as are the establishments in Solva. They've some sort of festival going in in Newgale so we don't even slow down!
Climbing the hill in Roch we spy the canopy outside the Victoria Inn so swerve left into the car park. Herself takes a seat with the dogs and I approach the table wedged in the doorway from which I am to shout my order to the bar. A lady then comes to take my money at arms length and promises to bring the drinks out to our table.
They're still taking COVID very seriously down here in some places! I repeat the process once more as we sit and people watch before making tracks back to site.
The Firemountain gets fired up to cremate some Piripiri chicken and ribs for tea and we spend the evening sat outside chatting to campers from adjacent pitches.
They do part seasonal pitches here, and it transpires we've pitched in the middle of them. Cardi next door introduced himself to us while we were banging pegs in last night. Will Posh's wife keeps coming over to collect their escaped Border Terrier and Mr Awning but no Poles makes numerous trips to the service point .... all eager to have a chat with the new blood.
They even call Mrs Grinch over from 3 pitches away to have a gawp. Have we stumbled across something like Stepford Wives here?
Sunday 5 September
Another glorious morning as I get up leaving Herself have a well deserved lengthened kip. Having lit a flame under the kettle I discovered some Welsh Cakes in the locker and accidentally managed to consume the whole packet to myself.
A friend later advised that they go off after an hour of opening, so I feel somewhat vindicated in my actions!
A few weeks ago, after having consumed 2 torps of Amstel to myself in my man den I made an impulsive purchase. For years I've used an offcut of 40mm waste pipe to fill up the aquaroll, and it's done me perfectly fine, but the @Colapz fanboys on Twitter had got inside my head.
I'm no fanboy, but @Colapz do do some tidy stuff, as well as reinventing the wheel too much and thinking of "solutions" to problems that don't really exist. I was impressed by the flexi waste pipe kit I'd bought off them a few years back, if only for the space it saved in the front locker, but feel they've lost their way a bit since then.
Anyway here is their bespoke answer to filling the Aquaroll.
I can confirm it works and gets the water from the tap into the Aquaroll efficiently. Whether it's any more efficient than my 40mm offcut with elastic on the top is debatable at best. I've also got concerns over longevity because after just a few days use the expandable hose is showing signs of wear in the creases!
Late morning and we head off out for the day. Turning left we follow the minor road that hugs the coastline towards Abereiddy. We've been here before on a rather grey day, and to be honest didn't think much of it. Our approach today was in bright sunshine under blue skies, but I'm afraid the place still didn't do much for us, so we spun around before reaching the yellow vest demanding £4 to park up.
On we pressed and on entering the village of Trefin, Herself spied some tables outside the Ship Inn with fantastic views over the countryside. Leaving Herself sat with the dogs I headed off in search of 2 pints of ice cold lager. After trying all 3 doors it became obvious that the pub was shut, on a Sunday lunchtime mind, and that people sat at the tables were customers of the adjacent tea shop, Caffi y Ragna.
Herself suggests having a light lunch, maybe sharing a sandwich. I go in to order, the Greek owner hands me a menu and says he'll be out shortly to take our order.
By the time he came out, I don't know why but I'll put it down to a senior moment, I dropped a boo boo. Herself orders a beef sandwich and the Greek turns to me. I ask if they're still doing roasts as it's now 3pm, and upon confirmation order one for myself. Herself's jaw hits the table, I get "the look" and know I've done something wrong but she won't let on what it is yet, saving it for later.
The intention was to drop down into Porthgain, but I somehow missed the turn, so we carried on towards Fishguard. Parking up at Goodwick (Welsh side of the Irish Sea crossing) we had all intentions of getting out for a stroll and letting the dogs have a paddle, until the stench hit our hooters that is!!
With doors closed once more, and whining dogs, we pressed on until Newport, where we followed the signs to the beach. Ignoring the Pay and Display to our right to pointed Toyah down onto the hard sand, parking up adjacent to the many others before setting off the find the sea at low tide.
After a few lovely hours of ball chucking and paddling we take the road back south towards our home for the week., Where my accidental roast dinner had long since been forgotten, and we have a simple tea of burgers and chips.
With dishes cleared Herself suggests popping out for a drink. We'd liked the look of a beer garden in the "city" itself while driving through on Friday, so steered Toyah through the lanes and parked up near the cathedral to let the dogs have another good run before taking an outside table in the floodlit beer garden of the St Davids Cross Hotel to enjoy a pint of Whitesands Pale Ale.
Been a full on day today.
Monday 6 September
We wake to another glorious morning. After breakfast Herself suggest a walk into St Davids, maybe a few beers in assorted beer gardens before walking back. I voice my doubts because of her knackered knee, but agree to it knowing that there's a shuttle bus we can hop on if it all becomes too much.
We're getting ready when we hit the first snag of the day. Remember at the beginning I said Herself packed the shoes and clothes?
Well!!
I'll admit they do look similar, and they're the same brand, but there's no hiding from the fact that I've only got one of my Timberland walking boots with me. Walking in daps it is then!
She gave it a good go, but there was no hiding from the fact that her knackered knee wasn't coping very well and after just a mile we had to turn around and rehatch plans for the day.
Back on site Herself's walking boots are exchanged for flip flops and my daps for Jesus creepers before we jump into Toyah heading for Solva. The plan was to take a walk along the harbour bed (tide out), let the dogs have a cooling dip and then have a drink outside the Harbour Inn.
Solva was rammed so we opted for plan B. Herself has decided she needs a decent pair of walking sandals and with Google promising a Mountain Warehouse in Haverfordwest we park up in the Riverside multi before setting off on the hunt. I'll put it down to another senior moment, that and trying to look at maps on my phone screen in the sun, but for some reason we thought the shop was in the Riverside complex. Why we didn't look it up again when we couldn't find it I don't know, but returned to the car empty handed. Later back on site, Cardi gleefully informed us it is on Bridge Street in the town.
It's hot and the dogs need a cooling dip. First off we head to Nolton Haven. We know it's dog friendly. Dropping down the hill it's evident we won't be stopping as the beach is very busy. Busy small beaches and loose running dogs don't mix. We try Druidston Haven but the steep rocky path down from the road says we're not going down there. Back to Newgale but we can't find a path over the pebble bank that Herself will manage without twisting her knee so I carry on.
In Solva things appear to have quietened down a bit and I squeeze Toyah's bulk into an empty space. We didn't take in much of our surroundings as we headed down onto the harbour bed and the freshwater stream running its length to low tide.
The dogs had a good play in the stream and we walked as far as Herself's knee would permit. Walking back up the ramp we're gasping and I can almost taste the ice cold lager as it hits the back of my throat .....right up until the very moment I clock all the doors locked shut and take a closer look at the contents of the occupied tables!! Bloody closed!!!
Back to St Davids we head and after parking just above the cathedral the dogs are clipped on and we head straight for the busy beer garden at the St Davids Cross Hotel. We bag a table in dappled shade and sit down to enjoy a few cool ciders as the world passes by.
We had plenty to watch too. Immediately adjacent to our table on the other side of the wall a Ford based camper crashed into the side of a Volvo XC60. We stopped for another while the drama unfolded in front of us.
Back on site I cremate a few lumps of Ribeye for our tea and we sit out in the recliners until, the sun drops under the horizon.
Tuesday 7 September
Another fine morning and promising to be a hot one today. A morning on site is decided on, recliners set up and bacon rolls taken sat out front watching God's waiting room creak into life.
Our pitch is just yards from a little used service point on site. This has the distinct advantage for me of being not far to lug fresh and grey water, put rubbish in the bins and empty the toilet cassette. We've not long washed up and are settling down when a rather significant disadvantage presents itself.
It whiffed just a bit!
After a while Herself suggests something to me. I hadn't been listening and rather that admit this I guessed and got it totally wrong. A short while after, instead of relaxing in the shade I'm sat in Toyah waiting for the off. Herself wants to know what's up, especially as not 10 minutes earlier she'd suggested stopping on site for a bit and then going out for a spin during the hottest part of the day!
With no firm plan other than to head in the general direction of higher ground on the Preseli Hills we set off. Firstly taking the A487 back to Haverfordwest and then the B4239 north. Just 4 miles along the B road we see a brown tourist sign for Scolton Manor Country Park so swing left onto the dusty track for a mooch.
Parking wasn't cheap at £3.50 for just 2 hours, but there appeared to be loads to do here if you had children with you. We clipped the dogs on and had a look at the restored steam locomotive and wandered around the grounds of the Victorian manor house admiring some of the sculptures. Herself also bagged a good bunch of fresh runner beans from their farm shop.
Onwards we went along the B4239 further and further from civilisation when Herself suggests she may be hungry and could we stop somewhere for lunch. I give her a sideways glance knowing that she's setting a challenge!
The hedgerows flew by until I spot a brown sign for Tafarn Sinc. I say to Herself that any pub with its own brown sign has hot to be worth a shot, in hope more than anything else! Swinging a right onto the B4313 we follow the road for a short while to Rosebush and turn left up a track.
At the end of the track Herself was less than impressed with the bright red wrinkly tin shed that presented itself to her. Glancing through a gap in the hedge at the beer garden we can see a range of ghostly looking dummies set up as some sort of display.
I get a "Really?" but manage to persuade Herself to stop for a drink just for the novelty value. We're being watched very closely by the locals as we take a table directly opposite a mock up of a station underneath the imposing red shack.
I go inside to order some drinks and an somewhat taken aback by the décor. Wooden floors covered in saw dust set the scene with a few log burners space as to heat the building in colder winter months. I start to worry as I clock the signage on the walls, primarily in Welsh. While I can get by, I far from fluent in the "Language of Heaven"
Several deep breaths are taken while I wait for someone to appear on the other side of the bar, and I'm rehearsing my lines in my head.
"Dau beint ..." I point to the Staropramen tap "os gwelwch yn dda."
She got two glasses and set to work with a knowing smile. The next bit wouldn't be quite as easy. I started off well with "Ydych chi'n ..." but then lost my way and reverted to Wenglish " serving bwyd?"
I looked nervously up at the castrating pincers hanging from the wooden beam as she laughed "Yes we are bach, take a menu and I'll be down in a few minutes to take your order."
Little did we know that we'd stumbled across quite a famous little pub that has featured a few times on TV. Set out in the wilds at the foot of the Preseli Hills, this little pub is owned and run by the community. Initially built in 1876 to accommodate tourists on the old branch of the Great Western Railway the place has resisted all modern day whims.
What a find though, we thoroughly enjoyed a few hours soaking up an atmosphere of years gone by.
We tale the B4313 back to Fishguard and follow the A487 back down the coast to site where we spend the evening sat out front having a slurp until the sun set on another lovely day
Wednesday 8 September
We had some rain overnight, and when I take the dogs for their early morning walk the skies are looking quite ominous.
Just after breakfast it starts to rain, and so it continued throughout the morning as Herself took herself back to bed for a bit while I tapped some keys in the awning. Tali is happy to have a rest.
