We've both had the week booked off work for a while, but not had anything booked. Even as late as Friday morning going away wasn't 100% on the cards.
If you've been bothered to read the last blog you'll know we left site with a door handle issue. Tuesday was spent wasting hours trying to sort something with the dealer, and for some reason my regular independent started ghosting me on the matter.
I knew what was wrong with it. As on all Swifts fitted with this handle, because of its shit design of plastic on steel, the handle cracks and no longer turns enough to release the door catch.
YouTube is researched and I think the repair is within my DIY capability ..... just, so Amazon comes to the rescue where I order the part for £85 plus delivery. £85 mind, for a bloody door handle.
I was reluctant to reserve a pitch anywhere because firstly the part was shipped via Royal Mail so no guarantee of a timely delivery, and secondly I still wasn't sure I'd be able to do the repair!
Anyway, Friday lunchtime and Postman Pat has thrown the delicate package into the porch so I set about the repair with a selection of screw drivers.
I'll not rehearse the whole episode on here, but suffice to say there was much swearing and cussing as parts refused to reassemble and as screwdrivers tore into my skin as they slipped off circlips!!
Never the less, after about an hour we have a fully functioning door handle and lock once more, and a pitch was reserved.
Monday 5 June
Herself has to elected to work this morning so getting ready to go is down to me. Well, that's not strictly accurate, she did a bit. By a bit I mean she loaded up our clothes last night, got up early this morning and fished the Weber and baby bath (all will become clear later) from the shed, and transferred the Asda food delivery into the caravan before I peeled myself off the sheets to take her into work!
The hard work like loading the awning and hitching up was left to me!
The dogs hear the whining of the motor mover, and I can see they're excited through the window as I hitch up, and as soon as I open the front door they bolt straight for the boot, taking no chances of being left behind.
Herself calls declaring she'll be ready for collection at 11.45am and I'm parked up at Ty Elwyn waiting shortly after. The lane gods were not as kind today, and we met numerous oncoming vehicles of assorted sizes. Herself is gripping the dash and I'm making buttons, but thankfully all were accommodating to varying degrees and we're soon swinging open the gate at Phillistone Farm without major incident.
We've been allocated the same pitch that we left just 7 days ago. Setting up was incident free ...... for me, but Herself managed to get herself pinned to the caravan side when an unruly gust thought the Isabella fabric was a sail. Unusually we're almost fully set up before the owner rocks up looking for some folding!
2.30pm and Herself asks if I'm hungry. Does the Pope shit in the woods? The Britannia is suggested for late lunch / early tea, with Herself confirming that she's checked and they serve food all day after 11am.
My face gets a splash of water and a clean tee thrown on, and we're taking a table out front before I walk inside to be served at 2.55pm.
I'm stood at the bar and a young blonde girl the other side is stood by the fridge with her back to me. I wait for her to turn around but she doesn't. I cough, and I cough again until she looks over her shoulder to me, before vanishing up some steps.
I assume she's gone to get someone to serve me. It's 3pm now and I'm still waiting so venture up the steps to the restaurant area. She's stood there chatting to a slightly less younger blonde girl.
"Any chance of being served?" I muttered in a rather sarcastic tone before the slightly less young blonde girl comes down the steps to serve me.
"She (pointing up to the young blonde girl) saw me at the bar and walked away."
"Yes, she's just finished work."
"Didn't she think to say I was standing here?"
"Umm ........ what can I get you?"
"Could I have a couple of menus please?"
"Err .... we stop serving food at 3pm."
I look at my watch and it's 3.02pm
"But I've been stood here over 5 minutes waiting to be served!"
She's stumped.
"Could you check if the kitchen can do something for us?"
The slightly less young blonde girl looks towards the young blonde girl, who despite apparently not working, totters off to the kitchen to check. We get the affirmative and I waddle out with a menu for Herself to peruse.
"Be quick!" I mutter, "They're keeping the kitchen open for us."
I settle down to enjoy a cold pint while Chef does his magic.
It was then that a couple saunter past our table giving us a sideways glance before taking a table just a few away. We're sat waiting and I note that they're looking at us, before exchanging comments and smirking. I let it slide.
Our food arrives, and it's good. Herself had a Smoked Mackerel Ceasar Salad and I had a Steak and Gower Power pie. I look up from my plate as the couple look in our direction again and exchange looks before smirking to each other again. I say nothing to Herself and carry on with my meal.
Herself gets up to go to the bar, but I'm still eating. I can feel their eyes on me, look up, and once again they're staring, exchanging looks and smirking. I'm fat, I know this, and I also know it amuses people, but there's simply no need for others to openly mock. Herself returns and I say nothing.
It continues and the red mist is rising. We're finished, and as regular readers will know, Herself has a knackered knee, and a slightly less knackered knee, so exiting a picnic bench is not always the easiest of tasks. The bitch half of the couple notices and is frantically trying to get the wanker half to look up from his phone.
I'm looking straight at them as they smirk to each other once more.
"Is something funny?"
The bitch half is flummoxed. They'd not been as discreet as she thought they had, but she's straight on the offensive with a rather incredulous "What????"
A filthy look is given as I grab Tali's lead. The wanker half appears to have no balls and his iPhone screen has his attention once more.
I'm afraid I let myself down as we walked away and may have directed a few obscenities in their general direction .... luckily the beer garden was now empty.
Herself had had her back to them so was unaware of their behavior. Understandably she thinks I was out of order until I explained what had been going on!
Back on site, via The Purple Badger to pick up a box of Strongbow, the chairs get dragged out and we set about having a drink in the sun. This may have also involved a prolonged spell of catching zzzz in between Herself desperately trying to engage me in conversation.
The baby bath gets dragged out from under the van and filled with water for the dogs to play in.
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Only Gwawr sorts of bosses it and Gwen can't get near, so Herself gets a jug out and starts scooping up water and chucking them for Gwen to chase with her snapping mouth. Now without wanting to sound sexist we all know that in general women are not that good at chucking stuff. Herself is no exception to this rule. Herself maintains it was an accident, but I'm pretty sure that when a litre and a half of cold water landed on my face and chest there was at least a smidgen of intent involved.
Herself seemed to find it funny, very funny, and was struggling to contain herself, but at least had the good sense to step away from the jug from thereon in!
Tuesday 6 June
I had an early night last night, retiring at 9pm. Fully refreshed by 6.30am I got up leaving Herself to enjoy a well deserved lie in. She's up at 8.30am though as Roids is on his way over. He's half way through having a not insignificant piece of art inked on his back and shoulders, and is keen to have some numbing cream rubbed over the area.
Herself also offers that I share my bacon and egg stash with him!
Tali sees to the washing up and as soon as Roids' Beamer rattles over the cattle grid and we throw some drinks in a day sack and head down to the beach. Breaking through the dunes gives the impression that we have the beach to ourselves once more as the dogs head to the tide line like Exocet missiles.
Loads of jellyfish, a lot more than last week, and making any progress is difficult as Herself goes into panic mode and starts shouting if one of the dogs gets within 3ft of one.
Heading back up the beach to the soft and dry sand, we plonk ourselves down near a small cave looking out over the estuary towards Burry Port as we're joined on the vast expanse by a few other dog walkers.
The trudge back up to site in the heat was exhausting. I flopped in my chair while Herself throws together some beetroot sandwiches and a few pint of iced orange squash for lunch.
We pop out briefly, but only as far as Donksville where we procure some cockles, this week from Spencer Williams, and a water pistol to play with Gwen, so as to avoid any further jug related incidents!
Back on site the baby bath gets pulled out and filled with water for Gwawr to have a good old splash, and Herself watches on to ensure there are no acts of revenge as I play with Gwen squirting water for her to chase.
I'd also promised Herself that I'd have just the one can of beer today, and decided now would be a good time to open it!
See how good I am?
Roids pings us. He's done and is on his way to us to have shower and for Herself to smother the artwork with coco butter and protect with clingfilm. The timing of this visit will also coincide with tea time, so he'll also need feeding!
He came, got fed, had a shower, got creamed up and wrapped up and left, taking extra care going through the gap as he rattled over the cattle grid.
His exhaust still isn't warm when it starts to get a little chilly, so we retreat to the caravan, Herself wrapped in a fleecy blanket, and settle down for a few hours TV. All three dogs are knackered this evening and we have a snoring symphony on our hands.
We're fast approaching the solstice, so evenings are long. Going to bed I leave one of the blinds open and watch the sun set over Broughton and Carmarthen Bay.
Wednesday 7 June
I wake after a great kip and fire up Twitter while Herself lights a flame under the kettle. Twitterers are tweeting that it's overcast where they are, and one who regularly retweets that the weather is always shite in Wales, and it always rains in Wales is bemoaning the fact that it's reverted to January where he lives.
I spring open the blinds to reveal another gloriously sunny morning on the north west tip of the Gower Peninsular, and post a picture just for effect.
Breakfast is taken outside looking over the bay, and watching on as a sand dredger goes about its evil business.
The plans was to drive by the "Pick Your Own" place in Scurlage first to replenish strawberry stocks. We have a scrub up. pile into Toyah and hit the lanes where we immediately roll up at the tail end of a traffic jam Llanmadog stylee!
The PYO farm in Scurlage is deserted. and it's immediately apparent that we're a few weeks early, so we roll on down towards Port Eynon. The Council owned car park sets the tone for the visit with the Turpin machine demanding £2.50 per hour, or part thereof, to abandon Toyah on their dust bath.
We wander passed the row of cafes and shops down onto the soft sand and spend some time throwing a ball for the dogs to chase in the surf, no choice really though because at high tide there's not much left of the dog friendly side at all.
To our left we watch on as a pair of not so nimble fishermen struggle to launch their little boat into the surf. It was quite a battle, and I'm wincing as the prop comes too close to the unfortunate one in the water as the boat is tossed around in the waves.
Herself fancies a coffee, so we take a table outside the Seafarer. She holds onto the dogs while I pop in. The rip off continues as I part with £5 for a small black coffee and a can of Fanta Zero!
Still, it was pleasant sat in the sun just people watching. Not many about though until a play leader rocks up with about 20 kids, all with obligitary sun hats and back packs. The peace is shattered as she organises them into pairs for a visit to the shop.
Herself goes to jump up as she witnessed a lady, not in the flushes of youth, take a fall. Straight back she went, but luckily avoided smacking her head on the brick paviors! Herself goes to assist the lady but is hampered by holding onto 3 dogs. I am of no help am a hindrance as I've my back to the drama and am unaware, and with the noise of 20 kids and wind in my hearing aids I'm unable to hear what's she's telling me!
The play leader runs to assist the lady get back up to vertical as her husband (I assume) looks on seemingly unbothered by her fall.
More shocking for me is a blackboard set outside the Seafarer. How on earth did we get to a position in this country where a kid's portion of fish and chips can cost £7.00? And for that to be considered a "Special".
We need to pop home to perform some Mims and Dats duties. Nelson and MBW shift patterns are overlapping so we call to theirs to collect Bwmps before going to collect Beastie from school. Back to ours to feed them before dropping Herself off at (not so) Fat Club, and then back to Nelson.
Time is getting on now as we're making our way back to site. Herself is still buzzing that she'd lost another 2lbs this week and innocently asks
"Are we eating out or going back to the van to cook something?"
I'm hungry and snapped back
"Have you seen the time? If we go back and cook it'll be at least 8.30pm by the time we eat!"
We rolled into the car park of The Britannia in silence! They were busy, very busy and it seemed like an eternity, well it was for my belly that had a thunderstorm going on inside it, until our food was brought out to our table in the beer garden overlooking the salt marsh.
My salt marsh lamb burger was superb, the irony not lost on Herself that I was savoring it while looking down on distant cousins still skipping about, not quite their turn yet!
Back on site I settle down with a cask on Lighthouse for company as the sun drops out of the sky, while Herself sets about cooking up a bowl of carbs and protein for Roids, who's calling straight from work to shower and have his new tat creamed up.
Thursday 8 June
More of the same today. Woke up once more to glorious skies. A leisurely morning around the van ensued involving bacon, eggs and numerous mugs of splosh. It's getting close to lunchtime when we can no longer ignore hints coming from the dogs, so we pack a bag and head down to the beach again.
Once more we virtually have the expanse to ourselves and we spend a few delightful hours paddling through the shallows and throwing a ball before heading back up to the dry sand to soak up some rays.
Back up at the van, the rest of the afternoon is spent doing not much at all, except sunbathing, drinking beer and catching 40 winks. Blissful it was.
Thoughts turn to an evening meal, and a joint effort produces a surf n turf with jacket spuds beans and sausages, cos that's all we ever eat in the van, innit!
The canopy gets dropped bone dry as part of breaking camp part 1, in readiness for our departure in the morning, as he's full here and we're unable to extend our stay for a few nights. Too much sun today, and I'm kipping on the front bench by 8.30pm and in bed by 9.30pm.
Friday 9 June
Slept right through last night and was not woken by my bladder until 6.30am. I slip the blind open at 8.00am and note the occupants are already packing away, so figure it's not too early to go out and start banging the wheel locks together!
9.00am and breaking camp part 2 is complete, we're hitched up and rolling through the gate, with main beam on, ready to do battle on the narrow north Gower lanes. Luckily only met 2 oncoming vehicle, both were happy to pull into passing places for me to squeeze past.
Great few days away again, not much to write about sorry, and a bit samey as the last blog, but we got what we wanted out of it. Sometimes that's just the way it is.
