Tenby festive weekend

It took a little effort to get all three of us ready and out of the house just after ten this morning for a taxi to the station. We took the first of two trains to Swansea leaving ten minutes apart but arriving within minutes of each other, as one stops more than the other. Then we took the midday train to Tenby, via Carmarthen, arriving about half past one. It's a beautiful rural journey, with the exception of Port Talbot's industrial zone, with line running across the Vale of Glamorgan, along the Llwchwr Estuary, some of the Carmarthenshire coast and the river Towy.

It was a half mile walk from the station to Lindholm Guest House in an early Victorian terraced street atop South Cliff overlooking a vast golden sandy bay with Caldey Island on the horizon. A local man called Peter was at the station welcoming and seeing off visitors. He told us that taxis had to be rung for or booked in advance, as they didn't make a habit of waiting around and meeting the handful of train arrivals each day. As it happened, he works in an hotel near ours and accompanied on the climb up from the station, telling us about Tenby's history and must see delights all the way.

Once settled in we walked around a crowded town centre, busy with athletic looking visitors from all over the region, here to take part in a weekend Triathlon even, called 'The Long Course'. Tonight a 2.4 mile swim in the sea with two 2,500 people taking part, walking around the streets in wet-suits before and after. The North Beach was packed with participants and supporters, animated by loud disco music and commentator, whose muffled voice half a mile away echoed and bounced around the bay, unintelligibly. Shorter swim events were held for youngsters and adults in addition to the major swim race, which started when the evening tide had come in far enough. 

We had a bar snack supper in Tenby's Yacht Clubhouse, open to non-members. We all had risotto. Cod for me and lobster, the local speciality for Clare and Ann. We then wandered the streets, finding our way around one of Britain's ancient walled towns, with some houses dating back to mediaeval times, a 12 century Parish Church, and some fine 18th-19th century terraces overlooking the sea. The high street was in the throes of being organised into enclosures to accommodate tomorrow's day of cycling events and Sunday's marathon and other running events. It's probably going to be one of the town's busiest festive weekends of the year. Much overtime will be worked by Council employees and volunteers to keep consumer chaos at bay with the consumption of tens of thousands of fast food meals and hundreds of thousands of drinks. It's such a pity that modern people don't seem to know how enjoy themselves without leaving behind them a horrible mess for others to clear up.