After the Band is over... St David's by moonlight.

It doesn't get dark here until after 10 pm, so after the Bishop's Palace do, Mum and I walked to the cemetery where a lot of our rells are buried.  That's where I noticed that the moon was nearly full.

I'd love to tell you tales of Welsh werewolves and ghosties but sadly the moon only inspired me to take some shots of St Davids.

This photo is of the street, Maes y Hedydd, where we are staying with Frances and David.

Playing at The Bishop's Palace

Thursday was a big day.  After dinner and the Carningli adventure, we went to hear a brass band at the Bishop's Palace.

I'm not really into Military Bands but it was a chance to get into the Palace free.  As a child, before the National Trust took it over, we used to play there for hours.

I may have overdone the photos a bit ( I haven't posted them all) but can you imagine the fun of clambering over these walls, hiding in the 'dungeons', yelling and screaming our lungs out?

Carningli

Some of you are familiar with my passion for the Angel Mountain series by Brian John.  Well, last Thursday quite unexpectedly because of a cancelled appointment, David took Mum, Cairo and I to this hallowed place.  It was a warm but overcast day and I hardly dared to think it would meet my breathless anticipation.

Here's Mum at the carpark.

Here's Mum sitting on the track awaiting our return.

We made for this peak first because the outcrop on the far right looked like Cairo's profile to me...

Once we were there, it was apparent that we had further to go to the pinnacle.

It was like Picadilly Circus at the top - not really but two other families had made their way there via an easier route.  This is David and James, who had taken a fancy to Cairo.

This is the view down to 'the easier way' with Newport and The Parrog (for Martha Morgan fans).  As you can see, the cloud had magically lifted...  But don't think the adventure ends there.  Next we went to the Candle Workshop which is actually Brian John's place.  We didn't meet The Man but his son was there making tapers (not tapis, unfortunately).  Of course, I bought a Martha Morgan book and chatted up the son who had just returned for 10 years living in the Dandenongs with his wife and children.  And as if that wasn't magic enough, we then went to Pentre Ifan, a communal burial place from about 3,000 years ago.

Pentre Ifan with Carningli in the background.  How's that for heavenly?

Quiet, warm day on a small sheltered beach.

Yesterday Mum and I took a short stroll to Caerfai and sat in the sun on the beach.  I took this photo because the rocks looked purpley red and my flipflops (never call them thongs over here) looked right at home.  Doesn't quite work in the photo though.

We propped ourselves on the sand between rocks and read while the tide came in.

My view was obstructed by a possible buddhist monk carrying a baby...

I didn't mind cos it was so beautifully bizarre.

It's a small beach, so as the tide came in it got to standing room only.

Commenting

To the thousands of would-be commenters...  You do not need a google account, etc - you can comment as 'anonymous'.  I know its a bit cumbersome to find your way around the secret letters (remember, I was the Blog Virgin) but it becomes easy with practice.  Unless you really want to be anonymous, it's a good idea to include your name in the message, like this, Maggie XXXX.

Summer Solstice

We had the most perfect summer's day - warm and blue skies.  Mum and I walked to St Justinian's then around the cliffs to Whitesands.  Had another yummy lunch (brie, bacon and cranberry pannini and grilled vegetable pannini for those who like to know these things) at the beach cafe then lolled around on the sand, sleeping, reading, paddling - it was heaven.

The lifeboat station at St Justinian's.  It is a working lifeboat station but you can also go on boatrides to and around Ramsey Island.  They are sort of jet boats so are driven with panache to make the girls scream and boys with very low slung jeans be very cool.  Note the swirl in the water.

But Mum and I could not dally and set forth and north for White sands, passing Porthselau on the way.  To my great delight a father and young child were playing with a sleek black dog who looked like a certain dog I know and love.  Here she is swimming after a thrown stick.  I have obliterated the child with a blade of grass (I've been reading a book called Dogs and Godesses...)

Here's Mum about to cross a little rill running down to the beach via a beautiful flat stone.

On to Whitesands - perfection in beachhood today.

Behind where I took the photo is a house set into the cliff, fully grown over by grass with the windows the only giveaway.  And now beachstyle in Britain...

Around the city

Mum and I have been taking it easy over the weekend.  We went to a BBQ on Friday night, lunched at Whitesands on Saturday and lunched at the Cathedral today with my Aunt Eirwen and her granddaughter, Catherine (who is also my cousin Cynthia's daughter).  Here's Mum, Aunt Eirwen and Catherine.

Naturally, I had to get into the picture too.

Here's a cuppla photos taken from the City Cross:

The astute observer will notice that these 2 photos should be joined together.  If you go between the 2 white buildings, you'll be on The Pebbles en route to the cathedral.

Abereiddi to Porth Gain

Yesterday Mum, David, Cairo and I drove to Abereiddi and then walked to Porth Gain.  Slate used to be quarried at Abereiddi and the beach there has blackish sands.  When the slate quarry was abandoned, the workers blew up the rocks to allow the sea to flood the quarry - it is now known as Blue Lagoon.

The cliff top walk is too beautiful to capture on camera - or even phone - so I took just one photo of  Traeth Llyfn.  It was a warm day and people have to walk to the cliff then climb down millions of steps to the beach.

The trip to Carew Castle, St Gofan's Church and Freshwater Beach

Today Mum and I travelled with Dave as above.  We had a beautiful walk around the castle and tidal mill.  Then on to St Gofan's.  It's surrounded by a military range so wisest not to enter when the red flags are flying.  We could hear gunfire, but no red flags where we wanted to go.

The story is that St Gofan was fleeing Irish pirates.  A cleft miraculously opened in the cliffs and enveloped him until the pirates had left.  This all happened somewhere between the 6th and 11th Century.  St Gofan then built a tiny church among the rocks.

This gives you some idea of the inside of the church.

Here's St Gofan's unheralded hanging garden - white daisies growing in the rock face.

Talking of miracles, Steve I've tried 3 times to reply to your email with 2 pictures but keep getting the message that my reply is undeliverable due to the spma filter.
I didn't photo Freshwater Beach.  It is a beautiful beach where some of the Crowe / Blanchett Robin Hood was filmed, and Shell House was constructed for a Harry Potter film in a grassy dell in a sandhill.

Tuesday's ramble

On Tuesday, Dave, Paul and I circumnavigated Carn Llidi in search of the deserted village and a cromlech.  It was our longest walk so far and sadly my phone / camera had gone flat by the time we found the cromlech, so only 3 photos.

We walked through farmyards to get to the track.  This is part of the view looking back to Whitesands and Ramsey Island.  After a bit of a climb we found these gorgeous creatures.  There are a lot of wild horses around here.  That's the pinnacle of Carn Llidi behind them.

And then, dewey eyed, on to the deserted Quaker village.  Somehow the occupants used to fish and carry their catch to Haverfordwest 15 miles away.  No wonder they deserted.

(This is cheating a bit, but I went back over the weekend and took a photo of the cromlech.  It is known locally as Coen Arthur, but after getting his legs ripped to shreds in search of it on Tuesday, Paul announced disbelief that we had spent an hour looking for 'that sodding thing'.  Here it is

)

Laugharne at last

I have long wanted to see The Boat House and estuary where Dylan Thomas wrote.  Yesterday Mum, Frances, Dave and I drove there.  Sadly it dispelled the illusion I had that I am Dylan Thomas reincarnated cos I learned he died in November of 1953 while I was born in March.  Selfish of him really.

OK, you follow the path around Laugharne Castle.  Go up a little laneway, and look out on the most mellow of waters - Mum was disappointed that the tide was out, but I loved it like this.

I love this kind of beauty.

Up the laneway a little further and there's the little shed that Dylan did his writing in, still set up as if he'd just left it.  Had to take this photo through the window.  It's quite a dark lane...

I suspect that this window wasn't there when he was..

So imagine being perched up there, no-one able to tell whether you were there or not, writing away with just the water and sky to look at.

This is a window in an upstairs bedroom.  Another good writing place.  This is what that window overlooks these days - though never before has it overlooked my Mum and cousins.

There is a photo of Dylan Thomas standing where Mum is in the next photo - on the deck which runs from the back to the front to the house (cartref).  Mum bought a copy of a Child's Christmas in Wales for a very lucky person.

And this photo I took by mistake

but I'm glad.  The goddess was obviously with me.

Walk from Caerfai to St Non's.

Don't think I'm going to spoil you with huge postings like this everyday - it takes me as long to blog as to do the walk.  These are walks I intend to do many times over but I'll blog them while they're still novel to me - and the weather is fine - and I remember to take the phone / camera...

This is the end of our street where some foolhardy, death-seeking person has hung the English flag for the start of the World Cup.  Most locals will barrack for any side but England.

Turn right and we're on our way to Caerfai.  There's a dairy there making organic cheeses.  Lucky cows.

They have a lovely view of the sea.

Caerfai is at the end of the road.  You have to walk down a zillion steps to get to the beach.  Today Mum and I are sticking to the cliff tops.

Looking back a bit

The path ahead

A glimpse of our destination - St Non's Chapel.   St Non is the mother of St David

We're not stopping today.  Mum on the home stretch, back to Aunty Eirwen's house.