I've been travelling a bit. Sort of.
Just because its all on my doorstep shouldn't render it void and unworthy of a mention.
I've written all about the distant places around the globe, so I thought, while I had the chance, I would describe the delights of my home city and its rather smashing Gower peninsula.
Then all the millions of people who are reading this around the World, can come and check out this little part of our planet, while I'm checking out theirs.
I've also got to play with my new camera before it is utilised for real on my next travels. Its got more buttons than Cadburys so extensive training is essential.
Just a few minutes drive from the centre of Wales second biggest city, and you are on Gower. Spoilt for choice with beaches, and cracking countryside, you won't get better in the whole of Britain. I have got to know it like the back of my foot, due to driving around it about ten thousand times with my last job, and the dog making me take her down the beaches every other day for a paddle, and a bark at bearded ramblers.
Famous for its surfing (I went all the way to New Zealand to have my first surf) and its Horse trekking (I went all the way to New Zealand to have my first horse trek), there is plenty for you outdoor type travelling people.
The craziness of the Welsh weather can be summed up in a matter of days. Last Thursday, when the above picture was taken of Three Cliffs Bay, it was like a summer's day. I shit you not. It was a scorcher. People were wearing shorts, constructing sand castles, and even swimming in the sea. There were hosepipe bans, ice cream shortages, wasp attacks, and handkerchief headed men frying eggs on the bonnets of their Ford Capris. If we could somehow keep this weather forever then this place would easily give New Zealand and Australia a run for its dollars.
Today, just to ruin any hope of that, and only three days later, I wake up to a blanket of snow. We have really broke the climate this time. I'm doing my part. I use roll-on deodorant and always recycle my socks, though due to the size of my feet, I can't help my massive carbon footprint.
We'd better start with Three Cliffs Bay, which does seem to be getting more and more national recognition recently. Katherine Jenkins endorsed it on national telly, and it came second in the ITV vote for Britain's favourite view. I think Katherine Jenkins herself came first.
Only the other day I saw Gavin and Stacey's Uncle Bryn (why is he always drinking drinks with a straw), using the very same panorama, to show that Wales wasn't all bad. Maybe it would be even more popular if someone came up with a myth for the Three Cliffs, similar to what the Australians have done for the Three Sisters in the Blue Mountains. OK, we wouldn't be able to say they were once Aboriginal teens, petrified for eternity by a yeti, but they could have been three welsh blokes (all conveniently called Cliff) who were so stunned by the amazing view, they never wanted to leave, so they turned to stone, and have been forever staring out across the bay. Magical bullshit, that will have the tourists fighting each other to get a butchers.
A superb beach then. Where else would you need to go?
Well, when I turned round 180 degrees on the cliff top, from where I took the above picture, I was greeted by another rather agreeable view.
Tor Bay, right below, leads round to the magnificent sweep of Oxwich Bay and some more nifty beaches. Oxwich itself was recently voted Britain's best beach by The Travel Magazine. Nestled in between the both is my favourite sandy Gower bit. A local beach for local people. When I was little, the trek to get there from the car park (well a farmers field) seemed to take forever. Its only in Swansea that the locals would call a beach, Crawley Woods! Fair do's you do have to go through Nicholston Woods to get to the beach, but when people refer to a day out at Crawley Woods, their ultimate destination is the beach, as they ain't packing their deck chairs, sun lotion, and bucket & spade to sit in a forest.
The woody trek down takes about five minutes (not forever, unless you are under sixteen) and is well worth it. There is even the famous rope swing on the way, if you fancy breaking an extremity. You'll usually have the beach to yourself, if it isn't the height of summer (that's usually one day in June in Wales). Then again, when my legions of readers have read this, you might not be able to see the sand for bodies.
There are three new YHA hostels in the Swansea Bay area so plenty of room to stay and explore. Talking of exploring too, there is a Gower Explorer bus which goes from central Swansea to all corners of Gower. You can't miss it. It's big and green. I have used it.Kelly and I were attending a Ghost night at the excellent Gower Heritage centre, and we wern't going to do that without indulging in a few gallons of booze. Hence the utilisation of public transport. I hate to compare the driver to those met while travelling Australia and New Zealand, but while they were amongst the most friendly and helpful beings in the Universe, this guy was amongst the biggest sour-faced moaning sods, this side of Saturn. I, you see, made the inexcusable mistake of checking the destination of his bus.
'Is this bus going to Parkmill?,' I enquired of the rat faced git
'NOOOOOO, THE NEXT BUS GOES TO PARKMILL. NOT THIS ONE. THE NEXT BUS.NO,' replied the bellowing buck-faced bastard.
I stood corrected. I scoured my brain for a quick witty response. What is commonly known as a 'put-down.' Nothing came to mind in time, so he suitably pissed me right off. He is singularly responsible for getting people back in their cars in Swansea. Don't let that put you off though. It all adds to the local experience.
Didn't see any spooks by the way, but my vision was severly affected by vast amounts of local lager.
Plenty more to tell you about Gower, including the Geologists dream at Port Eynon and the nudist beach experience. So be back soon.
