This is a commissioned post…
We British are obsessed with moaning about our weather. Never more so than when our expectations are dashed in the summer. A trip to the zoo is destined for ruin because the chimps won’t perform in the drizzle. Or a family picnic on a barmy July afternoon is hampered by dive bombing wasps.
But what makes a perfect summer’s day? Is it being with family or friends? Maybe trips to the seaside to relive those childhood memories? Or is it about enjoying your garden with a BBQ and a few beers? If you’re lucky enough it might be because you’ve got yourself the Ultimate BBQ Beer shed…
But what do I reckon? Well, I’m writing this in Kitewood. A 60 acre woodland in Pembrokeshire with a handful of camping pitches, a green ethic and some wonderful people.
Summer naturally presents more opportunities for being outdoors. And I think it’s often the simple things that make a perfect day. There’s certainly nothing quite like waking up and putting some portly sausages on the fire…
The weather has been great so far and you need to make hay while the sun shines as they say (whoever they are).
There’s no shortage of adventure in Wales. Today, the 3 of us decided to head out to Saint David’s peninsula.
Our walk took us out onto a rugged headland covered in purple heathers, peppered with yellow flowers and abundant in wildlife.
Our first wildlife encounter was looking over the cliff edge at a seal and her two pups.
More mammals took us by surprise in the shape of a couple of dozen horses.
Unfortunately our paths converged and we were soon face to face with an ‘equine haka’. They stood staring at us. We picked our way through the crowd but it was clear we were more wary of them, then they of us.
Then as we were finding somewhere sheltered to picnic there was another treat as we spotted a group of porpoises out to sea.
I think its fair to say that it was ‘breezy’ on the peninsula. Our lunch on the cliff edge mainly involved us eating with one hand and holding our stuff down with other.
Luckily there were just enough hands and bums between us to stop our sandwiches blowing into the sea. Good job really as I doubt porpoises like chicken mayo anyway.
Windswept and ever so slightly sun burned – it was time to head back down towards Whitesands.
At the car we wriggled into our wet suits whilst trying not flash the people in the surrounding cars. Easier said than done. And there is always somebody who decides to pull up alongside you just as that awkward moment when your trying to pull your trunks up over your bare bum.
With much gusto and excitement – akin to the opening credits of Baywatch – we hit the beach and threw ourselves into the large waves.
‘Prove it Jono!’ I hear you shout ‘No one actually swims around the British Isles’
Well there are no photos. Apart from getting my phone wet – remember those sausages from earlier? Say no more…
Talking about a lack of pockets. We had to take a bag with us and – not realising that the tide was on its way in – our stuff got soaked.
The only thing to do was to spread all our stuff out on the rocks, grab an ice cream and dry off under the suns rays.
We returned to Kitewood tired, hungry and – rather unnecessarily – a little bit pinker.
Plus it was time for a beer. With no fridge – the only thing to do is to put your bottles in the stream to cool off.
By the time the fire is roaring and your dinner’s done the beer’s cool. And you’re ready for a night by the campfire under the impressive Pembrokeshire skies…
Happy days. Works for me.
So what about you?