About Me

My photo
Bristol , United Kingdom
Poet and poetry facilitator. Pushcart Prize nominated. Co-founder of the Leaping Word Poetry Consultancy, which provides advice for poets on writing, editing and publishing, as well as qualified counselling support for those exploring personal issues in their work - https://theleapingword.com. My sixth poetry collection, Love the Albatross, is now available from Indigo Dreams or directly from me.

Tuesday, 15 October 2024

Cefn Bryn (again), Port Eynon and Rhossili

One of the things I most enjoyed about holidaying in Gower was that while there were lots of places to see, we didn't have to drive very far to see them. The peninsula is 19 miles long and about six miles wide; our holiday cottage was sitated equidistant from both coasts and nowhere was more than a short drive away. 

So it wasn't too surprising to find ourselves driving past Cefn Bryn the very next day after we'd visited, so we stopped off again, this time taking a slightly different route that led to the Great Cairn.



The weather was dryer, if less dramatic, than the previous day, with clearer views.





We watched a couple of ravens take on what looked like a kestrel for a while, both sides giving as good as they got.



A different view of Arthur's Stone


the longest slug I ever did see


We then drove down to Port Eynon, which was a little disappointing, on account of most of the beach being very dog-unfriendly. We found ourselves corralled in a rocky corner with other dog owners and their dogs, while the sandy - and sunnier - larger part was empty. 



Knowing me, knowing you ...                               Aha!        

Cwtch and I made our way down to the Salt House, which is believed to have been built in the mid-16th century for salt production, although the usual tales of secret tunnels, smuggling and piracy attached themselves to it in Victorian times.






Dewberries



Then on to beautiful Rhossili, one of my favourite places, where we had lunch in a cafe called - aptly - The View, after which we ventured down to the beach. A couple of choughs blew overhead.



Worms Head





The wreck of the Helvetia


Cwtch didn't want much truck with the sea






The wind blowing ribbons of sand along the beach was mesmerising, but it was time to leave so we made our way up from the beach ... 


... and back to Three Crosses to load up the car and head for home. We were leaving a day early, as I had a reading the next day in Portishead, but we'd had a memorable if not very summery holiday, with plenty left to explore another time.

No comments:

Post a Comment