Travel Writing for West Wales Life & Style
Castles & Kingdoms
It’s well-known that Wales holds the mantle for being Europe’s most densely castellated topography, beating many other European countries for the most castles per square mile. The striking fortifications and legendary stories emanating from them reach far beyond Britain’s sceptred isle. In a small region of Carmarthenshire where Wales’ longest river, the Tywi River, diverges into the equally twisting River Cennen, there are three castles that hold the greatest story of them all.
The Secret Sanctuary
When October strikes, there’s an automatic switch in the Welsh weather. Leaves sporting shades of crimson, cinnamon, and tangerine swirl in the sky like nature’s confetti, and the day’s brisk air both delights and chills to the bone. All these hint at the upcoming winter holiday season – a time of year that casts a spell across the globe, under which we all believe a little more in miracles, angels, saints, and legends.
One very unassuming place, tucked out of sight and quite literally built into the jagged Pembrokeshire coastline, is founded on these four themes. It even claims to be the sanctuary and final resting place of Sir Gawain, King Arthur’s noble knight (or nephew, depending on the source), whose poem firmly places him at the centre of the Yule celebrations.
Patron Saints and Pilgrims
A storm is brewing. The mingled cries of nearby seagulls and crows are mollified by ferocious crashing waves and turbulent winds. Its intense enough to make even the hardiest individual utter a quiet hail Mary and as gusts coil the battered landscape it almost feels like the 6th century storm that created the holy well beneath my feet. Of course, time travel isn’t possible. But St Non’s Well is said to have materialised during a thunderstorm on the same night that she gave birth to St David – the patron saint of Wales – in 500 A.D.
Timeless Places, Ancient Spaces
On the west coast of Wales lies a county known for its 186 miles of rugged coastline and over 50 beaches. But to think of Pembrokeshire as only a coastal retreat is to diminish its significance in the narrative and preservation of ancient Wales […] Pembrokeshire was a land of mystery and enchantment that captivated Prehistoric tribes. These ancient peoples left behind tantalising traces of their existence with mysterious folklore and mystifying monuments that are – in some places – older than the Egyptian pyramids at Giza.
On The Heron Priested Shore
With my nose buried deep in the first stanza of the Poem in October, written by Dylan Thomas to commemorate his 30th birthday walk, several lines float before me: ‘It was my thirtieth year to heaven / Woke to my hearing from harbour and neighbour wood / And the mussel pooled and the heron priested shore […] with water praying and call of seagull and rook / And the knock of sailing boats on the net-webbed wall […] in the still sleeping town […]’.
Looking for the Lady of the Lakes
Long ago, in a time when neighbours were suspected of sorcery and unthinkable creatures like dragons roamed freely around the wild, uninhabitable land of the British Isles, a beautiful enchantress lived beneath a lake in a magnificent castle. This lonely, chill lagoon, hemmed in by formidable mountains, is the inspiration for many folktales. None more so than the epic Arthurian legend of King Arthur, Merlin, and Excalibur.
Vale of Flowers: The Westminster of Wales
Pilgrims, for as long as history has been recorded, have dedicated their time to travelling ill-defined paths over mountainous contours, marshy riverside turfs, and open stretches of pastureland. Each terrain came with its own perils, but these vulnerable and defenceless persons took this journey upon their shoulders without hesitation in the name of God. Some simply sought to pray at High Altars, while others set out with one intention – to build permanent houses to worship God.
From Family Feuds to Burial Tombs: Here’s a Guide to Historic Newport, Pembrokeshire
From a broad view, the duality of Newport is obvious. Rolling hills and clusters of ancient trees surround a cottage-heavy town comprised of only two streets. Yet, upon closer inspection, these lanes reveal a bustling arts and crafts scene coupled with wholefood eateries, coastal stores, and an industrious history. But this community-led environment has a darker side – one that began with a squabbling family’s nasty feud.
Pilgrim’s Progress
After travelling for an hour and a half down roads that really shouldn’t be named as such, I arrive at Melin Tregwynt – a 17th-century, whitewashed wool mill. In my mind, its weathered foundations laughingly say, “No, you haven’t landed in the back of beyond” – which, just moments before, I had been worrying about, especially since the only tell-tale signs of life are the chirping birds and soft chords of a burbling, babbling river. Painting a backdrop to this arcadian is the countryside’s very own “cuddle” of brown limbs and green bodies that protectively conceals the wider world from me.
Droving Delights
Long before there were fridges, next-day delivery trucks, and supermarkets, and even earlier than the railways that introduced long-distance transportation, Carmarthenshire’s wild, narrow lanes were crammed with industrious men and valuable cargo. These people were called drovers, named for their occupation of driving goods to market on horseback, and they conveyed sheep, cows, pigs, and geese.