SOUL REPLENISHMENT AND A STORMY FAREWELL

aluably, our time here, however finite, proved perfect. The mission of relaxation was a success, only slightly undermined by a foolish, self-inflicted work distraction that slipped past my rule of communication blackout. The week delivered so much joy that the heartache of leaving was hard, as always, but every moment was utterly worth it. The sudden, blustery turn in the weather at the week's close perfectly reflected our feelings, yet with every ending comes the beautiful certainty of another trip—and we are already planning for next year.

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A Pilgrimage to Seals Bay: Connecting with the Coast's Spirit

Wednesday morning began with a simple but ambitious goal: to walk through the countryside all the way to the sea. So, with my dog trotting faithfully beside me, and leaving Morticia to enjoy a much-deserved lie-in, I set off first thing.

​Exploring on foot offers a connection with the land that you simply can't get from the inside of a car. As they say, sometimes the journey is just as important as the destination. The walk led me past babbling rivers and streams, beneath ancient trees, and over crumbling old bridges, allowing me to fully appreciate the flora of the autumnal landscape.

​Along the way, I encountered something that was not what it seemed—a sight that invited me to look past the obvious. I’m not going to describe it; I simply took a photograph and I’m leaving it open to your interpretation. Perhaps you'll see nothing, perhaps you will. All I'll say is that it was a spot where I felt a powerful, almost primal connection.

​Finally, after following a long, winding path, I arrived at the sea, stepping onto Cwmtydu Beach.

​This small, sheltered cove was once notorious as a traditional smugglers’ hideaway. Surrounded by sheer cliffs and secret caves, it was a perfect spot to conceal precious cargo like French brandy and salt until it could safely be taken inland on horseback.

​My mission, thankfully, was less nefarious; I was simply here just to see. But I got more than I bargained for. The beach had been thoughtfully taped off to protect the local seals, as it’s currently the season for raising their pups. And there, right in front of me, sat a magnificent seal, resting on the sand. A truly unexpected reward for the long trek.

​The walk back to our caravan was equally enjoyable, and my faithful companion relished every single kilometre.

​That afternoon, we popped down to New Quay for a casual mooch about. Morticia treated herself to a stylish new winter hat from the surf shop, and later we all sat together, watching the ceaseless movement of the sea. A perfect, satisfying end to a day of exploration.

Honey Farm Charm Before the Storm

Thursday was a blend of relaxed charm and dramatic weather. Our day began sweetly with a visit to the honey farm, followed by a comforting cup of tea at the Mariners' Cafe. Later, we caught up with local friends for food, drinks, and a good dose of chatter.

​As the evening wore on, the winds began to whip up; the reality of Storm Amy had arrived. Though the storm could cause us some issues getting home, I'm certainly not going to dwell on something I have no control of. We finished the night with a dog walk straight through the rain, making a necessary pit stop at the Penrhiwgaled for a swift one—it would have been rude not to!

Last Full Day: Wind, Rain, and Welsh Pubs

​It was Friday, and the weather was decidedly wet. While some might despair, the rain doesn't bother me at all—in fact, I rather enjoy it. The winds, which had mercifully subsided for a time, were forecast to return later, which gave me cause for concern about reattaching the roof box and driving home tomorrow. But that was Saturday's problem. Not deterred, we set out and drove straight across to Aberaeron.

​The wind and rain beat down, so after a quick bit of shopping for supplies for the journey, we sought refuge at Tafarn Y Cadwgan, a great pub we first discovered back in June. Wanting to continue our journey of discovery, we then called into a little backstreet spot called the Prince of Wales. It was definitively a locals' pub and a place where we were given the warmest of welcomes; it’s certainly on the list for a return visit.

​With Storm Amy now in full flow, I took Magnus out for his evening constitutional—after all, every dog needs his walkies! Morticia sheltered inside the caravan, gathering our things for packing in the morning. Before returning to batten down the hatches, Magnus and I called in for a final pint at the Penrhiwgaled.

Humbled by the Storm, Guided by the Gods

The storm had raged all night, and the next morning, we packed the car, bracing ourselves for a long drive through the bad weather. But first, we had some unfinished business: tea with our friends, a final goodbye, and a short visit to the sea front. Watching the drama of the sea, I took a moment to experience the humbling and energising forces of nature at work. With the long drive ahead, and Morticia not feeling up to taking a turn at the wheel, it was all up to me.

The journey soon began to wear me down, so I made an unscheduled stop at Corris Craft Centre for a cup of tea and a walk. I've always meant to stop here, and I'm so glad I finally did—there's definitely more to explore next time. The drive continued with regular stops, including a pause at Llyn Tegid where, as I did on the way in, I gave thanks to the gods and spirits of this ancient land. Ozzy (our car) carried us through Cymru flawlessly, and I was especially pleased with how well she handled the drive home through the storm.

The pull of Cymru is constant, it holds a piece of my soul. I'm currently following a genealogical thread to see if there's Welsh heritage in my blood, but honestly, does it matter? If a land speaks to you this clearly, isn't that connection a heritage in itself? It's a profound pull that makes the leaving incredibly hard, but leave I must. Work beckons—and after all, I need to pay for my inevitable return to these lands.

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