A while ago, inspired by Mike Carter's account of his journey around the coast of Britain, I mooted the idea of doing something similar. On my own. With a tent...and a bottle of whisky.
Tonight, sitting on a bench in a campsite at Wiseman's Bridge near Saundersfoot in South Wales, I am listening to the sea whilst sipping Ledaig from my enamel camping mug. My trusty 'Truck' (surly Disc Trucker) is beside me, leaning against the bench. I've had a couple of beers, chatted to Judith and all's right with the world.
Today's journey started very gently after toast and tea at Chris Dendle's house above Caswell Bay. I pushed off down the hill towards Mumbles and pedalled gently along the prom to the start of NCN 4 which, all being well, would take me to Llanelli and thence Carmarthen. It did. Eventually. I missed the turning to Llanelli and had done a fair chunk of the trip to Llangeneth on the tip of the Gower peninsula before I realised my mistake. Thereafter it would have been plain sailing but for the bloody hills. 17% was the steepest today.
I stopped for shopping (including the aforementioned whisky) in Carmarthen but made the mistake of not eating, except for a stray liquorice comfit which I found lying on the shelf. When I did finally stop, in Llansteffan, it was at the Village Stores. Quite frankly the place was a vision. Tables on the pavement, a menu promising a massive all day breakfast for £6.95 including coffee! And then I went in. The landlady/boss/proprietor is a fucking Goddess.Easily a 9, and that's without the bonus point for the lilting South Wales accent. Decent food, too.
And then more fucking hills.The old boy who'd accosted me at the shop told me I'd have to push my bike up one of the hills: "It's bad enough in a car, " said he. He was right. And I had to push it another five times after that, too. My seventh set of ten miles took over an hour. Perversely, I kept ignoring perfectly decent looking campsites because there was either no pub nearby or the wrong sort of pub. But here I am, more than seventy miles for the day, looking at the pub and listening to the sea. We're on our way!
