eaving this place is always so hard. The pull of this land is powerful, but real life eventually calls us back. I need to keep working to finance these escapes—early retirement isn't looking particularly viable at the moment—so home we must eventually go. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, though, and I know I’ll never tire of this coast.
Before we packed up and headed back, we still had the best part of the week ahead of us. Here’s how Wednesday through Saturday unfolded, right up to the journey home...
Wednesday saw us return to Aberaeron, where we discovered we’d just missed out on an Over-50s Tuesday meal deal at the Prince of Wales pub.
Since when did I fit into a category that qualified for a senior meal deal? I genuinely thought I had at least another five years before reaching that milestone! Age existential crisis aside, it was a beautiful day, and we both adore Aberaeron.
We sat out on the terrace at the Harbourmaster Hotel. The Harbourmaster is a bit posh, and some of the clientele can lean towards the pretentious side. I overheard one chap trying to describe a local spot he’d visited as "something starting with a Y"... seemingly unaware that Y is simply Welsh for "the".
On the flip side of pub conversation, we got talking to a doctor who had only just discovered the area, and later chatted with a lovely couple who run a pub over in Llanddewi Brefi. They told us to pop in the next time we were down. Llanddewi Brefi was made famous years ago by Little Britain—the home of Matt Lucas’s "Only Gay in the Village" character—though the show has since fallen out of favour for its outdated humour. We’ve actually been to the village years ago, but having the kids with us at the time meant pub visits were off the menu. A quick search later confirmed they run the Foelallt Arms, the oldest pub in the village. It’s now firmly on the must-do list for our next trip (and I just hope they weren't simply being polite when they offered to buy us a drink!).
We spent the rest of the evening close to home. Walking back in the dark around Pencnwc is wonderfully quiet, with the sky full of stars. The water on the little lake in front of our caravan glistens in the soft light of the surrounding vans—it really is an idyllic place to be.
A rainy day meant nothing to us—we had planned a relaxing day anyway before welcoming old friends to the caravan. Whilst Morticia prepped things, I took Magnus for a walk. He practically insisted on popping into the Penrhiwgaled for a swift one, and who am I to argue with the dog?
Later on, as planned, our dear friends Mike, Chris, Sam, and Alice came over for chicken sandwiches and nibbles. I love listening to Mike's stories; he's led a very interesting life and is deeply interwoven with New Quay—everybody knows Mike. He often brings gifts, knowing how much I appreciate Welsh culture, so it’s usually something with a local theme.
This time, he gifted us a candle holder featuring Y Ddraig Goch. He also passed along a Teach Yourself Welsh pack straight out of the 1980s, complete with a textbook and two audio cassettes. You know what, though? I’m going to get those cassettes converted to MP3—it’ll make the perfect companion for dog walks. I know Mike is probably just having a bit of a clear-out, but I’m always genuinely happy to receive these things with love.
I finished the day back in the Penrhiwgaled with the dog, surrounded by friendly strangers. I was just about to call it a night when the landlord persuaded me into an extra half before heading back to bed.
The last full day always comes too quickly. It’s hard not to feel a twinge of sadness, but I reminded myself how important it is to stay in the moment—after all, we still had a full day ahead, right where we wanted to be. We went down to the quay for a walk along the pier, followed by fish and chips from the Lime Crab. Sitting overlooking the harbour in the glorious sunshine was absolute bliss, before Morticia headed off to get her tattoo topped up by Dylan from Ink Cymru.
We spent our final evening in the Pencnwc bar surrounded by friends. Sitting with Andy and Kelly, alongside Mike and Chris, was the perfect way to wrap up the week. Sam even popped in to say goodbye, as she was working the next day. Later, as I walked Magnus under the night sky for the last time this trip, I bathed in the ancient energy of this land. It was truly bittersweet.
But I did win a pig on the grabber.
And so, the time came to leave. We said our goodbyes to dear friends and, after taking one last long look around, set off on the drive back home. The rain came down hard on the journey—almost as if the Welsh sky was reflecting our own feelings.
The last thing I want to do on a post like this is to get political, but the recent hostility aimed at the RNLI by far-right agitators—both online and at actual ports—is utterly disgraceful. The Royal National Lifeboat Institution is an independent charity crewed by brave volunteers who put their lives on the line to save anyone in distress at sea. They operate without prejudice, guided by a single, humanitarian mission: to save human life. To attack volunteers for preventing people from drowning is appalling, regardless of your stance on immigration. I stand firmly with the crews of the RNLI. Back in 2018, I designed a charity Christmas card for the New Quay station that raised funds over a couple of years, and my support remains as steadfast today as it was then. To the crews who go out in all weather: thank you.
As I wrap up this post, that familiar, quiet melancholy begins to settle in. My hiraeth for this land runs deep—a pull that goes beyond just loving a favourite holiday spot. But as always, there is a plan to soften the departure. We will return next year. The wait will feel long, and our plans still hinge on the usual real-world confirmations—locking in the accommodation booking and securing leave from work.
We already have a growing list of ideas and places to visit for the next trip, so stay tuned. Until then, Caru Cymru.
The spirit of the Urban Viking—and the occasional absurdity of navigating the modern world—lives on in my webcomic, Northman. 
You can read the latest chapter here:
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𝖂𝖊𝖑𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖊, 𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖛𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖊𝖗.
ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ, ꜱʜᴀʀᴇ ᴀ ᴛᴀʟᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴊᴏɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪꜱᴄᴜꜱꜱɪᴏɴ. ʟɪᴠᴇʟʏ ʙᴜᴛ ʀᴇꜱᴘᴇᴄᴛꜰᴜʟ ᴅᴇʙᴀᴛᴇ ɪꜱ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʜᴀʟʟ — ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴏᴅꜱ ᴛʜᴇᴍꜱᴇʟᴠᴇꜱ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ᴀ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ꜱʜᴀʀᴘ ᴍɪɴᴅ.
ʙᴜᴛ ᴍɪɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍᴀɴɴᴇʀꜱ: ᴀʙᴜꜱᴇ, ʀᴜᴅᴇɴᴇꜱꜱ, ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴘᴀᴍ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ꜱᴡɪꜰᴛʟʏ ᴄᴀꜱᴛ ᴏᴜᴛ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏʟᴅ, ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴀᴠᴇɴꜱ ᴡɪʟʟ ɪɢɴᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍ.
ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴡɪꜱʜ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛ, ᴀ ꜱɪᴍᴘʟᴇ ᴇᴍᴏᴊɪ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴅᴏ — ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴀ ꜱɪʟᴇɴᴛ ɴᴏᴅ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇɴᴄʜᴇꜱ ɪꜱ ᴀᴘᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴀᴛᴇᴅ.
ɴᴏᴡ, ᴡᴀʀᴍ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱᴇʟꜰ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪʀᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴘᴇᴀᴋ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪꜱʜ.