Riding the lanes

It's warm today, but overcast for much of the time. Kath returned from the beach last night later than us with romantic photos of the waning moon emerging from the sea beyond the Bay. At that late hour  didn't have the energy to go out again, so maybe tonight, depending on the weather. 

We gathered for breakfast at the hotel this morning at nine thirty, and lingered long, enjoying a lazy time, pottering about until lunchtime. I went down the beach to take some low tide photos of the Bay with my Sony DSLR and wide angle lens. Finally a walk to Port Eynon was decided upon with a picnic on the beach about a kilometre away from the village. The slope above the coast path is home to lots of small butterflies, and the most wonderful bright purple gorse flowers. 

Port Einon beach with the tide out is a spectacular expanse of sand, with long shoals of grey pebbles and bedrock with green and brown seaweed exposed when the tide is at its lowest, altogether colourful. In today's sunshine, it was well populated with family groups.

Clare and I were too tired to enjoy the return walk, so we waited an hour and caught the local bus, which turned out to be an exciting ride through narrow lanes, expertly driven by a guy who had his passengers in stitches of laughter with his comments as we sped along. We arrived just after Kath Ano and Owain, who found a slightly shorter route back.

I cooked a big veggie pasta dish for supper while the others went swimming, as the tide came in again. Afterwards we went down to the beach and made another fire with driftwood, as did several other small groups along the foreshore. Oxwich Bay is one of the few places around the country where beach fires are tolerated. I'm not sure why, but it could be something to do with ownership and management of land right down to the shore. On the whole, people are respectful and tidy up after them, and after dark there are far few visitors around as the (paying) car park closes for the night, and there's no public transport at that late hour, so it's only people who can stay overnight are likely to go the the beach in the dark.

Scores of messages of sympathy have been posted on the Parish WhatsApp group over the post twenty four hours, and Fr Rhys has reorganised the rota to cover Frances' absences, I can't be of much extra help as I'm covering St German's for most of August. Just as the parish was getting back to normal, again we are in a time of upheaval. We are fortunate enough in the new Ministry Area to have five retired clerics supporting the existing four full timers (with one vacancy) and one NSM, but the availability of retired clerics varies a great deal, so there are always unforeseen crises to be managed in an area with seven congregations and a constituency of 80-90,000 to serve. It'll be quite an achievement if we can get through the next couple of months with a minimum of cancellations.

Hazy Rhossili

Walking on the beach to the river at the far end of the wetland reserve yesterday was very taxing, with the temperature rising to 28C. I fell asleep on the sofa before going to bed, and slept for a couple hours before turning in. The stormy weather front caught up with us. After a few rumbles of thunder, torrential rain fell for about an hour, the sound of it on the roof was quite mesmerising and didn't stop me dozing off. Today is cooler, hazy and overcast, prompting a drive to Rhossili for a picnic lunch.

The car parks at Rhossili were two thirds full and the path out to Worm's Head busy with walkers. Down on the beach 120m below were a few hundred people scattered about on the vast expanse of sand. It must be heaving with people when the surf is up and the sun shining. As the car park is on National Trust land our membership allowed us to park for free and not pay the six pound a day ch arge. The car park meter has a QR code scanner to register members parking there, but it wasn't working. The car park attendant issuing tickets was taking cash, but many drivers arriving had no cash with them. The habit of using real money is disappearing rapidly with the surge in use of contactless payment during the pandemic crisis.

There was no wind and it was warm enough to have a picnic lunch on the clifftop overlooking the island. A few spots of rain on the return walk and a drink in the cafe near the car park served to deter a further expedition down to beach below. On the return drive it started to rain in earnest. A last supper of fish and chips on the beach had already been mooted, but sporadic rain deterred us, so we sat around the caravan picnic tables and feasted, with copious amounts of wine, before moving down to the beach to light a fire once the rain showers ended. 

We agreed that not even the best of the Mediterranean's beaches can match those of the Gower, as it's not been ruined by developers, and the majority of tourists have to leave at night. There's not enough accommodation, nor ever will be as long as the land is as carefully conserved as it is. Besides the majority of tourists probably live within convenient driving distance. We've noticed a great number of cars leave between five and six - people taking their children home for tea, most probably. We are so very blessed.

Return to Oxwich in view

A lethargic start to the week, but I did get around to doing the main week's shopping before lunch. We've been deliberating about where to spend our two week break all over the weekend, having made the vital decision that it should be somewhere in the Gower, since it's only an hour and a half drive from home. It was one of our favourite places to go in times past. When I checked through my photo archive, I found that we'd been there six times - twice for a week's stay, and four day trips over the past fourteen years, all before I started spending lots of time in Spain.

It's hard to believe we haven't returned there, not even for a day trip since October seven years ago, and it's ten and a half years since we last stayed there in the Oxwich Bay Hotel. At that time the place had a passing resemblance to 'Fawlty Towers', but since then it's undergone a makeover and been transformed into an up-market place to stay with a gourmet menu - including, as Clare recounted with delight, an Argentinan Malbec on their wine list, labelled bi-lingually in Welsh and Spanish, as it comes from Patagonia.

Sadly the prices are well beyond of our budget now, but after agonising over a fortnight at a house in Newton, part of Mumbles, and a holiday bungalow in Oxwich Bay, we opted for the latter. No wi-fi and a flaky phone signal, but within earshot of the sea, and a wonderful stretch of saline marshland behind the beach, designated as a Special Site of Scientific Interest - a great place for birdwatching, if my memory serves me well. Lots of wild nature more than compensates for a slender digital diet.

It's all booked now, and we'll be getting ready to go there two weeks from now.