Category: Wales

via Pentre Ifan. A mini tour of Wales within the confines of Pembrokeshire. Cathedral, Castle, neolithic stones, Landsker line, flowers,  slate, rivers. And hills. 

We followed mainly ncn 4 and then ncn 82 for large parts of today.  Where Scotland has the very popular North Coast 500, Ireland the Wild Atlantic Way, Wales does diddly squat promotion of this really excellent cycling route.  From the coastal route,  it sneaks inland,  taking in the Gwaun then Teifi Valleys. Just magnificent, and as fine a day’s cycling as you can wish for. 

We took a small detour to have lunch on a bluestone next to Pentre Ifan. Who knows, it might have been destined for Stonehenge. Somehow it feels better on this quiet hillside than next to a visitor centre and busy roads.   Did I mention this detour involved an extra hill.  Perhaps an axiom.

Tonight Abercych, flowing into the Teifi.

Cities 2 Cathedrals 1.

Breakfast was quickly worked off with the hill start. The mind wanders to later destination of Haverfordwest. Is there a Haverfordeast, North etc. Is it a crossing of the river Haver, I proclaim. Then normality returns as Barbara has spotted a milestone. Getting going with panniers on a slope works off more breakfast.

Cycling gives you an instinct of what’s to come. When tootling along a quiet Pembrokeshire lane to look up and see a castle at the top of the hill, you just know where the road is going. Llawhaden Castle is a fine ruin: a testament to the power and wealth of the Bishops of St David’s.

Narberth and Haverfordwest were our main stops, punctuating undulating quiet green lanes. First orchid of the year, competing with the cuckoos for attention. These towns differ in their attitude. Though the latter town might be the county town, Narberth has the air of a destination for the well heeled.

And to the havens of the coast. The undulations give way to steep fast downs and steep slow ups. The rally cars (Knights of the Island, all 20 years + vintage) wheeze as they ground past us. Rather them than the pillock in the camper van: cheers pal, we really wanted to walk up that hill cause you couldn’t pass through a wide barn door.

St David’s just before the rain. The Grain pizza place is safe sanctuary from the rain.

First city,  Swansea. Which prompted a thought. How are modern cities chosen? They places I think of as cities feel like cities. Glasgow, Manchester, Bristol. Cardiff is beginning to feel like a city.  Swansea I think of as a town. A good town of course with a lot going for it: more if it can shake off its inferiority (to Cardiff) complex.

Fine murals, never vandalised

Today’s route is familiar territory, heading up the old railway line to Gowerton.  Then the coastal path through to Burry Port. Yesterday’s CARTEN signs are still up. 

Carmarthen’s imposing Council offices frame a change of landscape.  An old inland port, the Mayor still has the title Admiral. Near our lunch bench boats brought minerals in from Nova Scotia and took emigrants back. 

Carmarthenshire is a fine county.  Lots of rolling hills.  We juggle between the NCN 4 and the Carten route. Roads traversed on road bikes are a different proposition with panniers.  Plenty of time to admire the hedgerows and spring flowers.