Woolly says – With the Welsh lockdown over again for a while but England now in lockdown our travel is confined to Wales, things could be so much worse as at least we are able to go out and about. With this in mind we headed off to the south to have a look at a voluntary place for next year in our ‘we have to be realistic for what we might or might not be able to do next year’ travel plans. Whizzing through our beloved Aberystwyth and along the coast road towards Fishguard even the weather seemed to be in our favour and I was curious to see what this off grid working opportunity might offer. Having met up with our host we followed him through the country lanes from the small town of Fishguard and into the depths of the countryside arriving at a five acre area with a variety of small outbuildings.
It was really interesting to see how the solar panels were connected, how the rain water showers worked….not that I would be using it of course…. And to hear about the plans for the future of the project. Alfie the dog raced through the long grass and seemed to be in his element, although I don’t think that Jo was quite so impressed with his green fur on his return. Once our nights accommodation had been looked over it seemed like a good idea to head out for something to eat.
A few miles of country lanes lead us into the quaint harbour of Porthgain in the Pembrokeshire Coastal National Park, at one time, the harbour exported slate from quarries a few miles south at Abereiddi, Trwynllwyd and Porthgain quarry works before changing to produce bricks when the local quarries closed. The old brick making buildings looked huge and very atmospheric with their covering of moss, bracken and other plants and as Jo happily snapped away, I wondered what delicacies the nearby pub would offer of my tea.
Sadly, the two places that served food wouldn’t be doing so until much later in the evening so with little choice we headed towards the small village of Solva and sustenance.
Woolly says – The next morning dawned with large ominous dark grey clouds overhead, our evenings stay had proved slightly difficult as there was zero WIFI or phone signal which would make being there for any length of time very difficult. As Alfie the dog did his last race round and Jo loaded the car, I set the sat nav for our first destination of the day.
Cilgerran Castle was a 13th century fortress not far from the town of Cardigan, as we drove into the village I spotted the signs for the castle quickly followed by a sign for parking, just as we were to turn into the correct road a police car came racing past us with it’s lights flashing and it’s sirens wailing, Jo turned to follow the car only to find that a an ambulance was right behind her with all of its lights going as well. Some how she managed to put the car into a tiny space before completing a 96 point turn to get us out of it, as we looked towards the parking, we realised that our chance of getting to it anytime soon was nil as the emergency crews had blocked the road. A drive through the village soon showed us that there was no parking to be had and with the clouds now throwing water down on us I sighed heavily and accepted defeat. Onwards we went into Cardigan itself.
Cardigan is in the county of Ceredigion, and lies on the tidal reach of the River Teifi at the point where Ceredigion meets Pembrokeshire. The town sprang up from its Norman castle in the late 11th or early 12th century. The castle was also the location of the first National Eisteddfod in 1176 an event that means a lot to Jo’s family history. We wandered through the main street peering into the quaint shops as drizzle descended upon us. The approach to the castle was less than inspiring as were the locked red gates that greeted our arrival, Jo and I looked at each as I tried kicking the gate open with no success, we had both checked online that it would be open the day before, and then Jo had checked again to see if Alfie the dog would be able to enjoy the castle with us so there was no rhyme nor reason for the gates to be locking us out.
With a lot of tusk gnashing and muttered words we walked along the castle wall to look at the only part we would end up seeing. Across the road was a statue of an otter which I hoped might cheer my small friend up.
Woolly says – It didn’t, although it was interesting to note that it had been presented to the town by Dr David Bellamy to celebrate his golden jubilee. We stood in the rain looking at the river and the former mill buildings from the 18th century on the opposite side when the harbour would have been a thriving place. We headed back to the car through the rain and set off for our next port of call.
St Dogmael’s Abbey is named after Dogmael, a 6th century saint said to have been the son of Ithel ap Ceredig ap Cunedda Wledig, and also reputedly the cousin of Saint David the patron saint of Wales. The abbey was built on or very close to the site of the pre-Norman conquest clas church of Llandudoch and was founded between 1113 and 1115 for a prior and twelve monks of the Tironensian Order.
The earliest surviving remains date from the first half of the twelfth century while the nave was completed in the thirteenth century, the last alteration to the church was the rebuilding of the north transept, with an elaborate fan vaulted roof in the early sixteenth century, not long before the suppression of the monastery. The abbey was dissolved in 1536, along with hundreds of other houses whose annual income was less than £200, by this time, there were only eight monks and the abbot left.
It was a wonderful ruin and as we ambled through it’s remains it was easy to see how large it would once have been. A few decorative items remained high up above me and we paused to consider how splendid it would have been. The quadrant would have once housed a herb garden where the monks would have walked from there dormitories to their work areas, whilst the crypt now open to the sky would have been dark and quite forbidding. Extremely impressed with our find we climbed back into the car as torrential rain started to descend once more. Jo looked through the rain smothered windscreen and sighed heavily, ‘I think we might have to miss the last place on the list Wool’s’ she said, I understood her boots were soaked through,, her rain jacket was dripping onto the floor and her hair lay sodden on her shoulders, being the caring type of mammoth I considered my need to see a water mill against her comfort and made the decision to look after her setting the sat nav for home and the chance to dry out and warm up.