Breakfast at Oxwich Bay

It was the Northerner's big birthday last week, but he'd been working during the day, and I was reading at a launch in the evening, so we kept Sunday free for an early morning trip to Oxwich Bay in Gower, with a celebratory breakfast on the beach. As it happened, we left later than planned, as Cwtch came in from the garden the evening before performing the dead squirrel dance - which is essentially the same as the sock dance, only with a different trophy - and took ages to settle down afterwards, which meant it was a long time before we got any sleep. (She didn't kill the squirrel, I hasten to add, as it was already quite cold, but she was  very excited, very possessive and really rather cross when it was confiscated.) 

Nevertheless, we still managed to arrive at our destination by 9.30am, and settled down to a breakfast of sourdough toast, smashed avocado and boiled eggs, with cappucino, at the beachside bistro. We then headed  up the path along the edge of the cliff to the little Church of St Illtyd, but there was a service in progress so we couldn't go inside. (On a Sunday! I ask you!) 

So I'll have to go back for a proper visit one day.  

We then walked along the beach a fair way and laboured up a fairly high dune, which was hard going in soft sand, and also a bit of a chastener when I recalled how I once bounded up la Dune du Pilat in south-west France, which is the highest dune in Europe and ten times taller than the ones at Oxwich. (Although that was 45 years ago.)

There was a good view from the top, although it was a bit of a precarious perch. 

It's a long way down

Looking back to Oxwich ...

... and ahead to Three Cliffs Bay 

In the end I slithered down on my bum ...

... and walked up the gap to look inside the dune system, where the natural habitat appears to be undergoing restoration. 

We then walked back up the beach to the car park. There were a few dead urchins washed up ... 

... and I picked up some sea glass and this really bizarre pebble, which looked like a small child had doodled a picture of a fish on it with some Tippex.

It was Cwtch's first visit to a beach which doesn't have a section of mud between the sand and the distant tide, and she was as unimpressed by the waves as she is ponds,  ditches, baths and all other types of water (unlike her predecessor, Ted, who would have been in there up to his snout).

 Back home in time for a nap, and a beautiful sunset with bat at 10 o'clock (the bat, that is - the sunset was at 9.40pm). Apologies for the bad photo of the sea glass; I didn't wake up till it was nearly dark so it was taken in electric light.