Secret Garden Stay

A blue sky sunny day with time after breakfast to start packing my case for our mini break in Oxwich Bay. Clare had a bad cough, so I went to the Eucharist at St Catherine's on my own. Once the Sunday school children joined us, we were about fifty in church with Fr Sion celebrating and preaching in a relaxed way. He told us the church hall had been broken into on Wednesday evening, and apparently the local Scout hut the next night. Apart from window damage and the chaos of every container being emptied, there was no vandalism. It was probably someone searching for money with little idea of what goes on in a public hall used by several different groups. A box containing cans of beer remained intact, overlooked, or perhaps ignored rather than emptied. Inexperienced thieves maybe?

We had lunch early, then I finished packing and loaded the car. It was half past two by the time we left, and I had to get petrol at Culverhouse Cross Tesco filling station before we continued our journey. We reached Swansea about quarter to four, and stopped at Sainsbury's to use their convenient toilet, buy wine and a bottle of water. Clare and I got separated. I waited outside, as the store was closing. I phoned her to check where she was, just as she emerged with a triumphant look on her face and a bundle of clothes in her hand. 

She regretted not having packed a swimming costume, and had popped into the clothing section, found one and dared to try it on, just as the store closure warning announcement was made. She could so easily have got shut in a changing room! She's bought a costume and was carrying a layer of clothes she decided to discard as it was now warmer than she expected when she dressed for the journey. Such a laugh!

I took a wrong turn for Gower in the vicinity of the University and this took us up on to the east end of Clyne Common rather than the west, prolonging out journey by fifteen minutes, so it was nearly five when we checked into our 'pod' accommodation at the hotel. The Secret Garden is an arrangement of six spaces and paths defined by tall hedges, and in each space is a self contained room equipped with a sofa bed, bathroom and shower, a table and chairs, both indoors and outdoors. An ingenious use of space, and just thirty yards from the dining room entrance of the hotel.

After unpacking we went for a walk on the beach. Clare had a paddle, I took photos. Given that it was such a pleasant afternoon, there weren't a huge number of people out on the beach. Perhaps they'd all gone home by the time we arrived, I don't know. We had a picnic supper in our pod, then I walked up the length of the village, remembering places we'd stayed on our previous visits. The sun was setting as I returned, so it was time to draw the curtains on the large glass windows and settle down to enjoy the silence of night and a peaceful sleep.

Scanned again

A mix of sunshine, intermittent showers and drizzle all day, with the wind blowing cold and warm in quite a random way. I woke up at seven and was driving to the UHW Radiology Unit by twenty to eight. The whole place was quiet, with few people around. By five to eight I reached the reception desk and after a short wait was ushered into the MRI scanner area and prepared for the half hour session, enclosed in this huge noisy machine, making an assortment of rhythmic mechanical sounds, which made me think of some kind of techno sound track. I think that's at least the fourth scan I've had. Two or three when I was being treated for the anal abscess, possibly one when a large stone was making its way out from my kidney and now this one. Must check in my blog archive when I get around to it.

With the job done, I was on my way back to the almost empty car park by a quarter to nine. I met Diana from St Catherine's in the corridor, going into work. She's a pharmacist, taking her turn at a Saturday morning duty.

Clare made pancakes for breakfast as it's a Saturday. That's how I know I'm at home again! As a result of a promotion email from the Oxwich Bay Hotel, I booked a three night stay, from tomorrow afternoon until Wednesday. It won't matter if the weather is lousy, just to be in one of our favourite places is what matters.As a matter of urgency, during the day, I got on with recording and editing Morning Prayer and Reflection for next Thursday and uploading to YouTube, so I have no work to think about while we're away.

I cooked sea bass with veggies for lunch. After a siesta we walked together in Thompson's Park. I then went for a longer walk around Llandaff Fields on my own, dodging showers, as I needed more exercise, despite being tired after getting up early. After supper, the last pair of episodes of 'The Sketch Artist'. From the ending, it's clear there'll be a third series. Now a night's sleep without having to think about preaching or taking a service tomorrow.

At the hide

Up at eight thirty under an overcast sky for a full cooked breakfast in the hotel dining room. Already there was a group of youngsters on the beach preparing for a canoeing lesson in the shallow waters of the bay with the tide right out. It was eleven by the time we emerged to walk along the beach to the far end of the nature reserve. 

When we were last here at the end of November last year, the bridge across the river nearest the beach had been lifted off its foundations by a tidal storm surge and deposited several metres upstream. It no longer bridges the water, but has ended up along the river bank. Whether taken there by another storm surge or moved there by human intervention it's impossible to determine. Its large metal frame and decking is still intact, and must weight a ton or more.

A hundred metres upstream is a second bridge which has been there for some years, though we never had cause to use it as it takes you back inland at the bottom of a steep hill which is home to Nicholaston woods with its own separate walking trail. Now it's the only way to cross the river dry shod, and then you have to double back along the river bank on the other side to reach the dunes along the shore. 

A brief reconnaissance of the path revealed a constructed water channel runs alongside it, parallel to the river which winds it way through the wetland into the lake above it. I'm intrigued to know what purpose the channel once served. I suppose it could have fed a water mill somewhere along the shore beneath the woods. The water from the channel now drains out into another patch of wetland behind a large area of dunes, rich with its own flora and fauna. What a superb natural environment this is! Always something new to discover, and understand.

There's new Wales Coast Path branded signage on the main walking route across the nature reserve since we were here last. It serves dedicated walkers well, as do the enclosures of protected areas with new stiles and gates, making it easy for those who like to wander and inspect the astonishing variety of plants. Again I traversed the reserve and headed for the hide by the pond. It was quiet and I only saw a moorhen, and a couple of martins  skimming the water to take a drink.

On the way back to the hotel, I called into the village shop and drank a coffee from a china mug, sitting at at table for a change, rather than having a takeaway in a paper cup.  Clare called me and said she wanted to go for a swim, so I joined her on the beach, but as soon as she undressed and entered the water it began to rain, and there was no shelter for me or her, so extracting ourselves without getting soaked through was a bit challenging. I needed a sleep when we got back to our room, and showers continued on and off until mid afternoon when the clouds parted and the sun came out.

We walked together up to the hide. Swifts and swallows were active after the rain, even flying in and out of the hide through its open windows. In the roof space are a couple of nests and recent droppings suggest they have been occupied this year but are not currently in use. A couple of moorhens were in and out of the water, and at one moment we saw a small raptor rise up from an island of reeds and hover for a while before dropping like a stone. I heard the sound of a splash which may have been coincidental. It wasn't a big bird of prey. Googling brought up the possibility that it was a Merlin and that it could have spotted a large dragonfly. I observed one over the water earlier, about twenty metres away, and the bird would have been closer to it than I and with much better eyesight. I got a photo of it hovering, but it's not in sharp focus and no colouration is visible against the bright sky. A small moment of excitement anyway.

We sat outside the village shop and had a drink on our way back to the hotel then had supper at six. I ate three bean chilli again tonight, except that it wasn't three bean. It was made with chickpeas instead, and was hotter than what I ate last night. I didn't complain. It may have been a chef's mistake, and it certainly wasn't a culinary catastrophe. Clare had a huge dish of fish and chips which she struggled to get through. Afterwards we went for a walk up to the church and then back along the beach at low tide, with another group of youngsters having a canoeing lesson off-shore, at eight in the evening. No more rain, but still lots of cloud on the move. More changeable weather tomorrow I suspect.

Footsore after walking over eight miles today, an end to the day uploading photos and reading.

Down to the Gower again

Up, and finishing bag packing for our stay in Oxwich Bay before breakfast. It still took us a while to get going however, and it was gone eleven by the time we left under leaden skies. It rained most of the way to the Gower with fleeting respite and glimpses of sun. We arrived before one but were able to check in and take our room early. We have a sea view across the bay. The tide was in and just started receding, so we went and sat on the slipway visible from our room, and picnicked on sandwiches and coffee, watching a family of sand martins (possibly?) hunting for flying insects on the shoreline, their swooping flight pattern made jagged by snatching their prey out of the air above them. Amazing to watch but hard to photograph.

Before going for a walk along the beach, Clare was bold enough to don a bikini under her clothes hoping to swim, but a cold wind picked up. Although she stripped off and went into the sea, she only went shin deep, then turned around and came straight back. I didn't have a top coat on and started to feel chilled by the strong breeze. I headed into the dunes and found a path across a wooded area covered with young oak trees past the grazing wild horses, ending at the road and the the entrance to the big pond with the bird-watching hide. The only bird I saw was a swift. No ducks, moorhens, coots or swans visible, and few bird sounds from the thickets of reed.

After a cup of tea in our room, I went out again, walking up to St Illtud's church and along a short stretch of the coast path, up to where it starts to climb, then back to the centre of the village before returning to the hotel restaurant for supper - a substantial three bean chili and rice for me, salmon for Clare and plenty of veg all around A meal that cost forty pounds last winter costs fifty now, and I bet the hotel struggles to make ends meet despite its popularity with walkers, school groups and wedding parties. They certainly make an effort to maintain standards.

Hope of an evening stroll after supper was cut short by rain, but not before I saw a pied wagtail standing on a rock calling out to another bird. Then on another rock six feet away, I saw a smaller bird, about the size and shape of a sparrow, but didn't look like one. When it chirped it sounded like a wagtail, and then I noticed it had a couple of black and white tail feathers, which it wagged as it moved. That was when I realised it was the wagtail's offspring, just learned to fly properly, but not yet developed its distinctive plumage. That was a first ever for me to notice.

Then it was back to our room, time to upload photos and read more of 'La Sombra del Viento' before turning in for the night.

Avian delights in Oxwich

Before being consumed by sleep last night I finally finished reading all six hundred plus pages of 'Invierno en Madrid'. It's been my bedside companion over the past three years, but only taken up and read in fits and starts. The last twenty pages delivered a shocking tragic end, in the best tradition of spy novels and throught it I've learned a bit more about the Spanish Civil War and the early years of the Franco régime. No wonder some of the deep wounds and divisions of that era remain unhealed.

Another good night's sleep for both of us, waking up to a colder but sunny day, more like November fine weather days we hope for but don't always get.  After another substantial cooked breakfast, we packed our bags and loaded the car, then handed in our key cards and walked to the lakeside hide, to see what birds we could see. 

It was quiet, with just a family of mallards and a couple of single drakes roosting in the reeds, a moorhen, glimpse of a teal, and a pair of buzzards riding the thermals, out hunting. We caught sight of one of them high up in a tree, a quarter of a mile away. A chance long range photo confirmed the sighting, although the image was tiny and not sharp, but satisfying nonetheless.

Then we walked on the coast path track across the nature reserve, through the sand dunes to reach the sea, and walked along the beach to return to the hotel for lunch. As we came out of the dunes a flock of twenty Dunlin descended out of the blue and stopped within a couple of metres of us for just a few seconds before taking to the air again. In the air before they landed they resembled a small round dark cloud, or a swarm of bees as they moved. An astonishing fleeting sight. 

A few minutes later we saw them  occupying a patch of wet sand from which the tide had just receded. As we moved down the shore the flock followed us, foraging as it went. A couple of the birds flew on ahead to feed like, they were a reconnaissance party, I thought. Why they should separate themselves from the safety of the group is a mystery to me however.

We both ordered three bean chili and rice for lunch and relaxed for a while before leaving. I took a short walk up the St Illtud's church to take some photos, then we left for home a four, calling at the Coop in Bishopston to do some weekend shopping before joining the commuter queue around Swansea Bay and on to the Motorway. 

From Oxwich to the east side of Swansea Bay is twenty miles, and with the stop to shop took us an hour, and then another hour to travel the thirty five miles home from there. By the time we left the supermarket the sun had set. I'd forgotten just how early it sets at this time of year. We could have set off earlier and travelled home in daylight, but Oxwich Bay is so lovely it's hard quit when the weather is fine and the light is good. That was our third stay in the Gower this year!

I was delighted and grateful to find a free parking space in the street right outside our house, as nearly all the rest were taken.. We unpacked, Clare made a veggie soup for supper, I uploaded my photos of the day, and then watched another intriguing episode of  Walter Presents latest French crimmie Astrid and Rafaelle before turning in for the night.

Oxwich yet again

Woke up at seven, interested in hearing the morning reports on the missile strike on the Polish side of the border with Ukraine. US and NATO intelligence are saying it's not a missile sent by Russia, but one of the Ukrainian anti-aircraft versions of the same Russian weapon gone off course and crashing the wrong side of the border. President Zelensky is denying this, pointing to the hundreds of missiles targeting civilian targets and energy infrastructure, declaring that the Russians have engineered this incident to look like an Ukrainian 'own goal' strike. A forensic investigation of the incident will reveal whether or not he was wise to speak out so quickly on this occasion.

I drove up to St Peter's Fairwater after breakfast to celebrate the Eucharist with two dozen faithful, and join their coffee morning afterwards. They are raising funds to support a project that works with street children in Colombia, founded by a Welsh priest who started as an Anglican and then became a Roman Catholic. Before he was ordained, he was travelling through Latin America, and lost all his possessions to thieves while staying at an hotel in Medellin. With no means of paying he was ejected by hotel staff which refused to help him. He was looked after and helped by some of the street kids of the barrio to contact his family and the consulate to arrange repatriation and never forgot this. Once he was established in ministry he started fundraising and moved to Colombia to start this remarkable work of giving youngsters a chance at life. An amazing story.

As soon as I got home, we packed the car, refuelled it at the big Tesco and then set off for the Gower. We stopped on the outskirts of Mumbles to have a picnic lunch in a car park just behind the beach. Along the bay shoreline is a metalled cycle track linking Swansea with Mumbles. This track was occupied by the Mumbles tramway until 1960. It had the distinction of being the world's first passenger carrying railway, with horse drawn vehicles running from 1807 onwards. In the summer a tourist road-train runs between Swansea and Mumbles on this track. What a difference it would make to congested roads if commuters and shoppers had an electric tram to ride on all year round today.

We reached the Oxwich Bay hotel just after three, checked in and were given key cards to our room in 'Ivy Cottage' five hundred yards up the road from the hotel, a nineteenth century stone building that had been gutted and transformed into six guest rooms with en suite bathrooms. The internal furnishings, stairway and doors were all made of light oak to a very high standard of carpentry. A very pleasant environment in which to spend a couple of nights.

We deposited our bags and went out immediately for a walk up the beach in the last hour of daylight under an overcast sky. Thankfully it didn't rain while we were out although there was intermittent rain through the day and into the evening. The tide was on its way out and we saw several family groups of Dunlin feeding and running through the surf. There were Oystercatchers out there in the distance as well, and we could hear their cry, even though they were hard to spot in fading light. Such sights and sounds make the whole trip worthwhile, even if it were to rain for the rest of our time there.

We had supper in the hotel - veggie lasagne for Clare and vegan three bean chilli stew for me, plus a date and pecan cake with ice cream to follow. Clare went back to Ivy Cottage after the meal and I went for a walk in the dark to the other end of the village. There are no street lights at all now, so as it was overcast and hard to see, I had to be careful. I walked for half an hour and only saw a couple of cars at a distance. It's a familiar place, and I've walked here before in the dark, sometimes under the full moon.

I returned to Ivy Cottage, and an hour later went out with Clare to the hotel to retrieve her medication for injection from the fridge. The night manager agreed to let her do the injection in the hotel lounge with all the doors and curtains shut, rather than traipsing back to our room to do it, and then back again to return the medication to the fridge. He was ever so good about it. All the young staff here are delightful and most helpful.

Then finally, back to our room to settle down for the night. Our bedroom looks out towards the wooded escarpment behind the bay. I wonder if we'll hear owls tonight? I think they're out there.

Bookings made

More rain, and a slow but busy start to the week. First household chores, then completing this week's Morning Prayer video and uploading it, booking an outbound flight from Cardiff for Clare to come and join me in Fuengirola, and then cooking a veggie pasta dish for lunch. 

Afterwards we walked over to Bute Park for a cup of tea, called into the bus station to check the bus timetable for a London trip next week to take my redundant mobile phone to my sister and show her how to use it. Clare then booked us a couple of night's stay at the Oxwich Bay Hotel as there was a special offer on a two night stay with breakfast included.

After supper, I watched several episodes of a new Finnish thriller called Arctic Circle, set in Lapland in the deep midwinter, near the border with Russia. It's more than a murder mystery police procedural as the story of cross border organised crime and averting the threat of a new sexually transmitted virus capable of triggering a pandemic, plus the usual domestic background stories. Much of the dialogue is in English as well Finnish, with occasional elements of Russian as well. Interesting to observe a Russian and a Finn use English as a common language. I wonder if this is true to life?

Rhosili

I'm told there was heavy rain in the night, if so I was barely aware of it as I slept long and deep. So did everyone else. Kath and Anto's telly woke up in the small hours, causing confusion however. At our ten o'clock cooked breakfast in the hotel we were told that there's been a power cut in the night (the phantom telly switch on was related to this), also the hotel gas supply cut out early on causing breakfasts to run an hour late. Fortunately they'd caught up by the time we surfaced and needed feeding. We've all slowed down considerably this past few days. Sadly this is our last before heading back to everyday pressures of work and ministry. I think we could all do with longer away.

At the end of the morning we drove to Rhosili. Despite threats of rain, it remained warm and dry with a blue sky dramatically decorated with pale and dark grey clouds. We walked down on to Rhosili Bay's mile long beach, appearing vaster than ever with the tide out as far as it could go. The path from village to beach is a steep 200m descent with steps and slopes, which I found pretty taxing on my quad muscles. The others wanted to walk the half a mile to where the tide had retreated and paddle, but I was interested in taking pictures of what remains of the 'Helvetia', a Norwegian timber carrier which foundered on the shore during a gale on All Saints Day 1887. The story is here

We then had a picnic in the shelter of the cliffs. Anto went off for a walk along the shore, Clare Kath and Owain stayed on the beach, while I climbed back up to Rhosili, and walked the mile and back to Worms Head point to take a few photos. That's the first time I've managed both of these walks in a day.  Yet again, I've been surprised that the venue has been less crowded than I thought it would be, with so many more people holidaying in Britain this year than for decades.

We met up again for the drive back to Oxwich and a final swim for those keen to take to the waters (not me), as the tide came in. We enjoyed a traditional last night fish and chip supper together, thanks to the  chippie that's part of the general store in the village. As supplies arrived, we had our first downpour of the day. We've been been most fortunate to have four days of good weather while a large unstable weather system has passed across Britain from the south west, flooding some places, even in lower Wandsworth in London. A lovely respite. If only it could have been longer! 

Oxwich family reunion

After our usual Saturday pancake breakfast, we packed the car and by eleven headed to the Gower. The roads were far less busy than the morning news led us to believe, and just after one we arrived in Oxwich Bay, and ate our picnic lunch sitting on the beach. Threatened thunderstorms and downpours failed to materialise, although it remained overcast, and cooler than yesterday. We checked in at two and installed ourselves in the static caravan we hired for our four dsy family reunion. Owain arrived with Kath and Anto at three, and after they unpacked, we went to the beach so that Owain Ksth and Clare could swim as the tide was on its way in.

We had a very pleasant supper at the Oxwich Bay hotel, and then walked on the beach again until dusk. Earlier there had been a wedding reception in a giant msrquee in the hotel grounds. We saw the bride and groom being romantically photographed at the water's edge. Half a dozen fires were burning along the foreshore, in the vicinity of a line of parked camper vans. The smell of smoke lingered in the still air, but not of cooking, oddly enough.

It was dark by the time we returned and we sat outside with drinks and chatted in the dark before turning in, happy and calmed by a quiet uncrowded afternoon and evening in our favourite unspoiled British holiday venue. Where are all the staycationers today I wonder?