Who Said It Rains All The Time In Wales?

This is not my experience. I have been to Wales on three occasions now, if one excludes the trips to ferry ports en route to Ireland. The first trip was to spend Christmas in a cottage and, yes, it did rain all the time, but it was December and somehow, that seemed forgiveable.

The second visit to Wales was about five years ago and I spent a week on the Pembrokeshire coast in bright sunshine, warm, balmy days and had a very relaxing time. On Monday, Kim and I set out for a short break, staying near Newgale Sands in Pembrokeshire and far from raining, I came home with sunburn!

This part of Wales, and it's the only part I know, is absolutely lovely. Driving past Port Talbot leads me to believe that it isn't the ugliest part by a country mile. With Atlantic breezes and crystal clear waters, it is a place I could spend a lot of time, given half a chance.

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The place we stayed was my friend's "shack" about five miles inland from Newgale, a quiet country location surrounded by bluebells and campion. A near-tame pheasant roamed the lawns croaking and strutting and I managed to get to within three foot of him to take some pictures; what a tranquil place.

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On Tuesday we took a slow drive up the coast, past Solva and St. David's and happened upon a lovely bay at Newport (not the big Newport near Cardiff, but a small settlement set on a horseshoe bay), where we had a wander around and lapped up the sunshine.

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Then, onwards to Castell Henllys, an iron age settlement that has some wonderful roundhouses built on the original sites and postholes.

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We sat on the benches around the central fire and watched the swallows, who had made their nests at the tops of the roundhouses, perform aerobatics while the sun beat down and the birds sang. (Still no wet Welsh rain). The stream at the bottom of the hill on which Castell Henllys is set...

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bubbled cooly and it was very tempting to dabble one's hot toes after the climb up the hill, especially as I had started to look pinker than my T-shirt!

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(rubbish self-portrait poking a D40 in my own direction!)

The entrance to the settlement has a wonderful totem

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and an educational centre that is a really lovely eco building that I'd happily copy to live in. Best of all, on calling into the shop for a bottle of water after our climb, we found some absolutely gorgeous soaps that were locally made, with none of the usual nasties like parabens and SLS. The smell was just divine and I couldn't resist stocking up with some of the more luxurious ones and a bar of cook's soap, which is just fab for getting onion and garlicky smells off your hands. The Soap Shed is a small business with great products and I shall certainly be using them again (though I wish they'd get a proper online shop function going).

So, there I was, surrounded by aromatic soaps, with pink, tingly skin and feeling very chilled. We headed back for the evening and just had a quiet time reading and listening to music. The shack has no television or telephone and it was just delightful to make conversation and not have the beast in the corner dominating the evening.

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Next day, it was off to Newgale to try out the temperature of the Atlantic. This was chilly, but amazingly invigorating. Two days after the Bank Holiday, the place was empty and as luscious as I remembered it from my previous visit - just the occasional surfer or dog chasing sticks and ropes and dashing into the waves. Happy days!

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After a few other visits, the compulsory woollen mill, a pottery that was closed and so on, we headed into Solva to the Ship Inn for a very good curry (the back of the Inn is run by Indians who do high quality food and substantial portions) and an aerial display that was quite fascinating. There were a number of buzzards soaring on the evening thermals and they must have come close to a crow's nest and suddenly one very brave crow took on two buzzards in a Battle of Britain style dogfight. The crow couldn't compete with beak or tallon, but managed to fly so much more nimbly that he zoomed under the wings of the buzzards so that they lost their lift and wobbled enough that they eventually decided that it wasn't worth the trouble and moved away.

Crow 2:0 Buzzards

And still no rain. What's all this strange mythology about it always raining in Wales...? Crumbs - it's so good in Pembrokeshire that I could be very tempted to get a place there. Still, I had better not tell anyone about it or they will all stop going to Cornwall and ruin the place...!