Blue sky. Blue sea. Two of my favourite things. Every year, when we’re weighing up where to go on holiday, I’m always the one dancing around, with my hand in the air, suggesting the sea. Again. It is my happy place. Sometimes I win. Sometimes we go somewhere equally nice. Usually the mountains. My husband’s favourite.
This summer has been an odd one. Work has meant that we couldn’t plan ahead. I’ll admit, at one point, I thought we’d never get away. I took the plunge and booked last minute. Just two days before. By the seat of my pants, as they say.
I found a fisherman’s cottage in Pembrokeshire, Wales, overlooking Solva Harbour. If you imagine Wales, Solva is on the part that is almost the furthest South West you can go. The part that juts out furthest into the sea. It’s been ten years since we last stayed in the area. It ticked all the boxes. My sea dreams would be a reality, this year. Queue music. Happy dance commence.
It was a rush on the day we left. I worked right up to the last minute. Only had time to close my laptop, throw a few things in a bag and go. Forgot my swimming costume, which was a real oversight, but that’s how it goes.
The coastal path ran along the bottom of the cottage’s garden. Bliss. Hero loved watching people and dogs go by. Not far to walk to the harbour or into the village, either. Once in Solva, we didn’t drive far, making it a relaxing time. Lots of walks and a choice of places to eat, without loading everyone back into the car. Oh, and the views.
Despite the last minute booking, I had done my homework. There were a few places I wanted to go. Top of my list, and thinking of my tummy, was to a particular takeaway, but not your usual kind of fast food. If you are imagining a fish and chip shop, it is not. No. Not to be found on the high street.
I’d read fabulous reviews about Mrs Will the Fish, so I knew I had to order ahead. We decided to pop in, after lunch, ready for supper that night. Narrow lane, so I jumped out, while Mr TTC drove on to find a place to turn the car around.
Tucked away, along a residential lane, I followed the signs to a bungalow. Reminded me of the road my grandparents used to live in. For a moment, I was unsure if it was the right place. Walking through a gate, I was greeted by a friendly lady, who took me inside. Opening her fridge, she brought out a couple of example platters, for me to choose. I ordered and was told that mine would be ready before between 3:30 and 6, when they closed.
Believe me, I was going to be clock watching. No way was I going to miss the deadline. I’d seen it now.
(pointing, in my photos, became a bit of a running joke, this holiday)
We headed off to a beach and had a couple of hours fun, then on to pick up wine and baguettes (and something for Mr TTC who hates seafood)
After my description of ordering, my two girls were intrigued by the different style takeaway, so they came in with me. I picked up two platters of crab, prawns and crevettes. All ready to eat. Oh goodness. They certainly did not disappoint. A real gourmet meal. Best takeaway we have ever had.
Second treat, was a boat trip to see seals. The boat did take dogs, but we thought Hero would find it difficult, so I stayed in the cottage with him, while the others went. Photos are by Middle Teen.
They came back buzzing. It had been an adventure. They’d seen seals, with their pups, and gone into caves. The guide had worked on life boats. (Don’t know about you, but there is something slightly comforting in that knowledge.) He had stories to share about the area and my family loved the trip. When they arrived back at the cottage, they took turns to tell me all about it.
The boat took them within metres of the seals, who were unphased. Possibly because they had grown used to so many boats each day. The children were thrilled.
They were also intrigued by the cow winch. The rusting metal object in the photo above. According to the guide, cows were lowered down, by the winch, into the water, where they swam over to a nearby island. They grazed the island, before returning to the mainland. I’m guessing several months later. Also presuming that the winch lifted them back up. The island is now owned by the RSPB, so no more swimming cows, and the winch has been left to rust.
For the record, and in case I forget to say it, there was not a drop of rain the whole holiday. Now I think of it, I don’t think it rained 10 years ago when we were here last. Blue sky, with one overcast day. Not bad. I’m usually talked out of going to Wales because of the weather. Has a reputation for rain. I love Wales. So just want to put it down here. For the record. Blue skies. In the photos, we could be somewhere considered more exotic, don’t you think? Wait for the beach photos, next. Definitely could be somewhere else.
Right enough for now. Next up, beaches and mills, but part two can wait for another post.