I’d anticipated sharing, in enthusiastically avuncular tones,
my childhood experience of this beach: climbing rocks (there’s a particular
one, the Big Rock, they’d surely have to climb that just as I did when I was
their age), dipping a hand into a rock pool (I know where the best ones are), collecting
shells (you can’t have too many cockles and mussels and razors), watching the
slow motion of the tides and working out when the beach would be at its best, feeling
the sand and building castles from it, with that special glee of knowing that
those tides are going to level them back to flat clean sand in a few hours, so
it’s fine to wantonly kick over your own lovingly crafted creation just before
you leave the beach for an ice cream (that’s fun!).
I was wrong. Gus and
Zerlina found all that all by themselves, immediately and instinctively. It’s Tuesday now (I think) and we have to
leave on Friday; so I only have two days to discover diverting and damming
streams, shrimping (though we have no nets as yet), espying huge live crabs in
the recesses of the deepest pools…
Sorry, did I say ‘discover’ there?
Hmm.
The bit I loved most is the sands to the west where the gently sloping stratified rocks run out from the tunnels to the sea, the ones you look at from your caravan when the tide's right, with Monkstone beyond. Almost beats Back of Keppoch.
ReplyDeleteYour holiday sounds wonderful. I want to go to the seaside in Pembrokeshire. Immediately.
ReplyDeleteRichard, on the first day Gus climbed high on the rock, stood with a huge grin on his face and called out "I can see the whole world, I can see all the sea, I can see everything!" It was fabulous.
ReplyDeleteSo many wonderful memories from those holidays. We did have a change occasionally, heading for Cornwall and Devon, even in a caravan one year, but the Pembrokeshire ones were the best.
ReplyDelete