Life’s a Beach or Now We Are Six John, John, Jeremy, Roger, Matt and I (not forgetting Matty) set off across the salt marshes to the dunes leading to Rhossili Beach. Jeremy was waxing lyrical about a former life as a beach bum with Vivienne in their surfing days but had failed to mention that this beach is 3 miles long. Not only that but there was the a strong head wind. A pub at the end of the beach had been identified by John Gilliard but I had not promised a stop. This had a galvanising effect on Matt who shot off at an incredible pace in order to get in pint in case I lived up to my threat. Roger went off-piste and chose to walk over Rhossili Downs instead of on the beach. The rest of us battled along in the teeth of the wind and (in Matty’s case) sand in the eyes but were hugely entertained by the wind surfers. The much publicised pub at last came in view and guess how was already there? It doesn’t take much working out. Matt reluctantly moved out to the terrace where Matty was allowed and we thankfully joined him in a pint. Roger turned up from his off-piste excursion and sometime later we continued on along a cliff path through the fantastic scenery of the Eastern shore of the Gower. It was good to be on a serious coast path after days of flat walking round estuaries and through woods and fields. Unfortunately Matty, who until now has not put a paw wrong, suddenly shot off in pursuit of a few sheep she had espied at a considerable distance round a precipitous cliff. I was horrified and terrified for both the sheep and for Matty. Roger and I set off over a slightly less vertical bit of cliff and eventually found Matty on a rock some considerable distance below us with pounding waves beneath her barking at a sheep who was perched on a rock. The wind was blowing in the wrong direction and it was only because my fear made me scream extremely loudly that she finally heard me and decided that this was perhaps not an entirely good idea. She then had to scramble back up the cliff – Roger and I lost sight of her due to what seemed like an overhang but at last she appeared over the edge and ran up me. I could not be angry with her – she had come to my call - but I was shaking as I patted her and praised her for coming back. I know she shouldnt have done it and I was mortified to think she had chased sheep but I was so relieved that none of them had come to any harm and that she had not fallen over the edge into the sea. She remained firmly on the lead for the rest of the afternoon as we skirted the inlets and cliffs of Eastern Gower. By the time we reached Horton we had walked nearly 18 miles and then walked another ½ a mile back to the pub. We were exhausted and delighted to get back to our house where Gill and Sian had the most wonderful dinner of fishcakes starter, roast pork with all the trimmings, and a spectacular Pavlov waiting for us. Today’s sound – the bell buoy at Port Eynon Head at the end of the day
Posted on: Fri, 03 Oct 2014 22:40:06 +0000
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