Herself was scheduled to work over Saturday and Sunday, so no BH weekend away for us, however as she is given Monday and Tuesday as lieu days, a decision was made to use up the last of her leave allowance for the year and get away for a cheeky Monday to Friday.
With fuel at the pump still expensive enough to make me cry in public and a few long distance trips planned next month we're staying local(ish) at a CL I've had my eye on for a while in Pembrokeshire.
Monday 25 May
Forecast is good, and looking through the blinds at 7am indicates it's going to be a hot one. We're keen to avoid BH chaos in Carmarthen so plan an early start, parking up somewhere close to the site until arrival time.
We needn't have bothered though, as a text from the owner confirms a pitch is free so we can arrive earlier. Loading up and hitching up was hot work, but were pulling out of storage by 10am. We're taking the longer route in an effort to avoid the inevitable snarl ups at Pont Abraham, Crosshands and the A48 approaching Pensarn.
Worked a treat, and we rolled off A484 and onto the A40 heading west no problems. I'm playing satnav roulette today, not bothering having watched a site arrival video last night. Turning off the A477 and all is well as we fly passed Folly Farm, we get to Templeton and take a left at The Boards Head, now looking out for a brown sign for Croft Park.
We didn't see one and cruised unknowingly into an hour of torture and worry. On our tour of the Pembrokeshire lanes we took in the delights of Martletwy, Lawrenny and Creswell Quay and Carew in our efforts to get back on track.
Herself was beside herself and we bullied our way through the the BH traffic, many drivers clearly not suited to single track roads. Many heads turned in the beer garden of the Cresselly Arms as our 13m rig crawled past.
It was with some relief at 12 noon that we're turning into the entrance of Rivendell CL, a good 3/4 hour after we could have been here had I not missed the turn!
Setting up was slow and methodical in the heat, and it was 2pm before we can announce to Facebookville that "We is Arrived"
Gwen needs no secong invitation to get wet and immerses herself in the freshly filled doggy pool.
Next door is very chatty and lets us know he's off out for a pint. That sounds good, as well as some food, so we load up and back track towards the Begelly Arms.
We've not travelled far and I realsie my mistake for earlier. I took a left after the Boars Head instead of before it.
Well they are very close together!
The Begelly Arms didn't happen, pulling into the car park we're greeted by a miriad of signs. Dogs not to do this, Dogs not to do that, with the only outside tables being on an uncovered patio with no parasols.
We pressed on and threaded our way through the lanes, a lot easier now without having 2 tonnes attached to our rear end, towards The Lawrenny Arms. It was rammed, the car park was chocca and no free tables. Reversing back out I have this sinking feeling, but in hope more than anything we carry on round the corner to Lawrenny Quay and the Quayside Cafe.
We grab a table with a view of the water, on grass and with a parasol, make sure the dogs have bowls of fresh water and settle down to devour a loczlly caught crab sandwich each, washed down with cider.
Blissful it was.
Back on site I take a cold shower and Gwen takes full advantage of the big fan running at full chat in an effort to cool down.
The risk of falling asleep on my chin straps is real so we decide to put some clean clothes on and head down to the coast where it may be a little cooler.
I'm stripped off and rumaging through the pile of Sheen bags looking for some clean pants.
"Babe, where's my pants?"
"In the other bag."
"Can't see them."
"Try the other one."
"Nope."
"Must be the other one."
"Babe, there's no more bags in the locker."
Turns out the only pair I have with me is in the dirty laundry bag, sporting a rather fetching piece of modern art!
Inside out it is then!
Saundersfoot is heaving, but I knew it would be after seeing pictures of the beach earlier on Facebook. We manage to grab a space to abandon Trude, and I leave Herself and the dogs on a bench with water as I head off in the hunt for chips. Every establishment has queues out of the door, so I pick the one with the shortest queue.
Observing from the tail I can see that Argosy has a 12 year old boy working front of house and taking payment. The young lad barely looked old enough to walking to school on his own, let alone to be left in charge of taking orders and taking payment from the hungry Bank Holiday crowds. Somehow the old bloke in front of me ends up paying twice for his order as the kid over the counter claims the contactless didn't go through.
They went after him a third time and he ignored them as he picked up his food and walked off. My turn now, and a simple order of Cod and Chips, Pie and Chips, 2 small sausages (Gwawr and Gwen) and 2 cans of pop takes Cachi Melyn an age to punch on the touch screen. I touch the screen with my card - payment approved - and I make a show of thrusting the screen in both his and his uncles faces.
It's one of life's simple pleasures. Sitting on a bench overlooking Saundersfoot beach picking at a bag of chips with more salt and vin than is good for me!
Once we've had enough of people watching we make tracks back to site. Herself has worked 7 straight days, and been in by 6am Saturday and Sunday, so retires early with all windows and roof vents open and 3 strategically placed fans running full chat.
I make myself a very tall iced Rum n Coke and take a seat outside as some heat from the day receeds with the sun dropping into the Irish Sea some way behind the hedge.
Brucie Bonus - The rum was free. It came with our Morrisons delivery, it wasn't on the bill and we certainly didn't order it.
Tuesday 25 May
Surprisingly had a reasonably comfortable night last night, all windows and roof vents open, 3 fans running full chat, and I supposed the rum helped!
Lying in nbed at 6am I'm acutely aware of the pants situation, it also dawned on me that we also have no coffee pods either. 6.45 am and I'm trundling quietly out of the gate on a smash and grab trip to Morrisons in Haverfordwest.
Back on site the Thors get set up to enjoy that first mug in the sun before it gets too hot. Herself cremates some bacon and throws it between a few slices of sourdough and we spend a quiet morning, mostly in the shade. I fire up Alexa on my phone a ask her to play Madness songs for me (my phone has a Bluetooth connection to my hearing aids) and I may have dozed off for a while!
I wake having soaked the front of my tee shirt with dribble to see Herself braving the sunshine to play water fights with the dogs, and what with lying in their pool they're managing the heat better than us.
We decide to take a spin out, and as we hit the road Trude is telling us it's nudging 30 degrees outside her air conditioned comfort.
After an unsuccessful trip to Sports Direct we head for the coast, hoping the dogs would be able to have a cooling dip on one of the dogs friendly beaches.
Dropping down into Broad Haven we remark how busy it is, too busy to accomodate the dogs off lead, and it's the same in Little Haven. We make tracks back towards site. We may not have made it to the sea, but we've managed to keep the dogs out of the afternoon heat.
We pull off the A4075 at Canston Bridge and park up at Minwear Forest so that the dogs can have a little wander under the dappled shade of the canopy above.
I'd noticed what appeared to be a small crack in the windscreen on the way back. Closer examination showed we'd had a stone strike in the corner with has resulted in an 18 inch horizontal crack along the bottom which is now migrating northwards!
If I were one of these new caravan influencer types, at this point I'd be frantically recording a Reel or Tiktok to put out there saying I'd had enough and was thinking of packing up and going home early. But I'm not really into engagement farming or fishing for likes or sympathy (you ok hun?), and I take getting lost, no pants and a cracked windscreen in my stride. All overcomable when you're a grown up .... much like a toddler falling and grazing their knee and having to put a few loads of washing through!
Having not eaten since breakfast at 8.30am we're both Hank Marvin when we get back on site. I get into JFO mode and russle up a Surf n Turf in record time.
The news is full of record breaking May temperatures, and our pitch has no shade whatsoever. It's Ok in the morning when the sun is low and the caravan offers some shade on the near side, but the rest of the day is relentless until late in the evening. Our choice is stark, either sit in the sun or retreat to the van, which whilst providing shade is like an oven, Alde is telling us the internal temperature is 37.5 degrees, with the fans merely shifting the hot air around.
Wednesday 27 May
We wake to another fine day in the shire and enjoy a lazy mornng around the van. I breakfast on a bowl of strawberries that needed using and generally got immersed into a world of double crossing, blood guts and gore mixed in with a fair portion of extreme violence!
Just after noon we head off out. First stop is the Shell garage in Begelly, they've got diesel at 169.9p whereas everywhere else round here is at 177.9p or higher. Unsurprisingly there's a queue out of the forecourt, but I'll wait.
Next stop is the Four Seasons Farm Shop on the A478 into Saundersfoot. What barely covered the bottom of the basket cost nearly £40, but I've no doubt it's all good quality stuff.
Saundersfoot is busy again, but we're heading over to the next bay at Coppet Hall. We know from experience it's sheltered from the sun on one side and only a short distance across grass from the car park to the beach. Dropping down the hill we're gtreeted by a full car park, and a snake of cars half way back to Wisemans Bridge also waiting to get in. We didn't stop, apologising to the dogs as they looked out longingly at the sea.
A plan was quickly hatched, we'd head straight back to Minwear Forest to walk the dogs uunder the canopy, then head to Lawrenny for a sandwich and a pint.
It's 29 degrees as we pull up and the dogs waste no time in darting for the relative coolness on the forest, A sign had promised 1 1/2 miles of easy going rambling, but that didn't take into account Herself's knachered knees, and I also take issue with the climbs along the path that follows the eastern reaches of the tidal Cleddau that are classed as easy going.
We did about a mile of it. Long enough for screaming knees and panting dogs, before returning to Trude. By the time we get there it's gone a bit dark with threatening skies overhead. We're not 2 mins into our short trip to Lawrenny when the rain started, then it went very dark and the rain got heavy, bouncing off the tarmac as the heat produced plumes of steam!
Bet there's room on the beach now!
Then the lightening strikes in the fields around us were followed by claps of thunder. It'll soon pass I think as we press on noting that in the space of 20 mins the outside temperature has dropped from 29 degrees to 19 degrees. We're nearly at Lawrenny, and I can almost taste the crab when Herself pipes up.
"Aren't the roof vents open in the caravan?"
It was more of a statement than a question, and without uttering a word I find a farmer's gate to turn around and we're hurtling through the lanes at a rate of progress that Gyndaff Evans himself would have been proud of.
It's still raining when we get back, and we both run into the van, leaving the engine running, to survey the damage. When our Coachman left the factory it had one shower fitted. For the past half hour it would appear it now has three, with one of them being directly over our made up fixed bed!
We dried all we could, and a crab sandwich lunch on the quay turned into hot dogs at the van. It dried up a bit and the sun came in and out, so we decided to risk heading back out. Rolling along South Parade in Tenby, just outside the walled town, we park up in Five Arches car park.
I've never quite understood how Tenby got its name. The original Welsh name of the town being Dinbych-y-Pysgod, which translates to Little Fortess of the Fish. Southern Pembrokeshire has long been known as Little England Beyond Wales and it appears that over centuries of trade and different rulers in the area the Welsh word Dinbych was simplified into Tenby to make it easier for English speakers in the area.
Anyway I digress, I've only just touched the card pad on the Turpin machine and it starts to rain again. Nevertheless we're invested now, so the dogs get clipped on and we head through a gap in the town wall into world of ponchos and unbrellas eating pasties, chips, rock and ice cream!
I manage to get a pair of flip flops for around the van from Animal, leaving Herself outside holding the dogs as the heavens opened once more. Understandably all the pubs are full as people take shelter, but we happen across Ronni'z Lounge further up High St that has a "Dogs Welcome" sign and empty tables. We dive inside, acutly aware that it may be empty because it's expensive.
We couldn't have been more wrong, and enjoy a pint waiting for the rain to ease off. It did and we head back down High St to Cariads for what turned out to be an unsuccessful visit. Your viewpoint on whether it was successful or not much depends on which side of our marriage you are. They didn't have the Clogau piece that Herself wanted, so I was somewhat relieved as we called it a day to return back to site.
The storm is now all but a distant memory as the sun is back out with the temperature nudging the high 20s once more, with our little fan pointing at the fridge vent like it has been for the last few days. What a hack!
The few hours flew by and before long it's time to open another tin of beans and sausages for tea, tonight cleverly disguised as minted lamb steaks with Pembrokeshire New Potatoes (I even had to wash the mud off these before cooking) and a very colourful salad.
With dishes squared away I leave Herself watching some TV and head outside to read. After a while it gets noisy. The families 3 pitches down are having a game of rounders and it transpires there's a difference of opinion about the rules.
I peer over my book and see that much arm flapping is accompanying the shouting. The disturbance didn't last too long though as competative Dad steps up. The youngest boy bowls to him under arm and he puts his full effort into batting the ball straight into the hedge. They spend some time trying to find it but are beaten by the nettles, conceding that it's game over. I did briefly consider throwing over one of Gwen's tennis balls for them to continue, only briefly mind.
Thursday 28 May
Once again a great nights kip, wish I could sleep this well at home! Herself informs me we had some thunder and lightening overnight, I wouldn't know.
A lot cooler today and we've not got plans to do much at all, not that we've done much all week, but Herself's knees are screaming at her and she's grimmacing just climbing in and out of the caravan.
We resolve that we'll go out for lunch a little later and spend the morning lazing in the sunshine and taking the dogs for a few laps around the dog walk.
Approaching Lawrenny it clouds over, but we take a table overlooking the mud (tide is out) and enjoy some local crab thrown between a few slices of Braces' finest at the Lawrenny Arms.
It's breezy and Herself is feeling a little cold so we retreat inside for desert, only Herself's desert didn't happen. About 25 mins after taking and accepting payment for our order they send a young girl out to let us know they didn't have any apple crumble!
We briefly considered heading off somewhere else,but that idea was swiftly eschewed as the sun made another appearance. Back on site a few hours were wasted finishing off my book, and late afternoon we decide to drop the canopy today while bone dry.
I'm head down rolling up the fabric when my hearing aids pick up the unmistakable sound of a big engined V8 rolling down the CL track.
I think it was an early 1970s Chrysler Valiant, but can't be sure. All I know is it sounded and smelled lovely!
Tea came in the form of tinned beans and sausages again (a dickhead I know thinks that's all that caravanners eat) cleverly disguised as tandouri salmon with new potatoes and salad.
Friday 29 May
We're up early enough, but breaking camp took a while as Herself wanted to clean the inside of the van top to bottom before leaving.
Nevertheless we're hitched up and pulling out of the gate onto the Pembrokeshire lanes bang on 9.25am. All was going well until we hit a tail of traffic on the approach to Pentlepoir.
Thankfully it kept moving, albeit very slowly, until we cleared he village and from thereonin it was plain sailing all the way home. Even Carmarthen itself wasn't too busy, and we made good time and have covered the 46 miles back to storage in just 1hr 10 mins.
Been a cracking few days away, we didn't do much at all really, just enjoyed some down time, chilling away from the stresses of work. Just what thhe Dr ordered really.
Rivendell is a superb CL. There is currently no toilet, but if you're happy to use the van's own facilities the site offers hard standing and fully serviced pitches in a blissfully tranquil setting, and at the time of our visit priced at just £22 per night (all in with unmetered electricity). All just a very short drive to the hustle and bustle of Tenby, Saundersfoot or Narberth if that's what you want.
We'll be back to this one for sure.
