on board the bus
our time in wales was memorable to say the least (the very, very least). we boarded the bus at 6pm in london and were immediately greeted by a friendly british woman and her 2 young boys in the seat behind us. they were all excited to talk to us and speak about australia as they had family now living there and loved hearing our stories from the olympics. hetta, the mother and kindest woman in the world, noticed we were carrying a tent and asked where we were camping before recommending to us a lovely spot in the tiny town of newgale in pembrokeshire. she then proceeded to ask us what we were planning on doing seeing as the bus didn’t get into pembroke until 1am. when we responded with ‘no idea’ (good planning on our part) she quickly offered to let us pitch our tent in her yard for the night. at the moment we didn’t realise it but in 24 hours, we became more thankful than ever that fate had brought this lovely woman into our lives.
the hilarious young welsh boys and us
the next morning we awoke to not-so-nice weather and a home cooked breakfast after a night spent in a welsh home out of the rain and wind that is apparently so typical for the coast of wales (who knew?) and hetta (again, the kindest woman in the world) drove us out to newgale to pitch our tent for our now one night of camping in wales. we thanked her for everything she had done for us and she offered us yet another helping hand by offering to pick us up the next evening and drive us back into town to get the bus back to london.we were staying right near the beach where they buried dobby in harry potter which was super duper cool. hetta showed us photos of the the shell cottage when it was set up on the beach during filming. the same beach was also used in robin hood which she happened to have a small part in as an extra (how cool is that?!).
we settled into our tent and admired the amazing view we had over the beautiful little village and the beach before heading down to dip our toes in the ocean, leaving our tent in it’s seemingly safe spot at the top of the hill. we had no idea what we were in for.
the view from our tent
after some time at the beach in the freezing water, collecting pretty stones and a few hours spent at the local pub, we walked up the hill along the famous ‘coastal path’ to retreat to our tent for the night. we arrived right on que for the rain to begin - and not stop - for the entire night. the wind was blowing to gale and our 10 pound tent was not built to withstand the harsh weather of the welsh summer.
we struggled to sleep, but tried our best, often bursting out in laughter at the ridiculous-ness of our situation. with no dry clothes or belongings, a tent that was slowly but surely filling with water and warping into shapes a tent should never be in the wind, it was nearly impossible to sleep so we lay there waiting for the sun to rise so we could get the hell out of the tent and into somewhere warm and dry. we just wanted to be dry. the downside to being in such a small town however was that, of course nothing opened until at least 9am which left us with our only option - the toilet block in the campsite. it became our shelter and our laundry as we decorated it with our clothes over the doors and beams, praying that they would dry (which by the way, they didn’t). we were saved by yet another kind british woman who offered us the front seat of her van to sit in and drink tea while we waited for the café to open. a few hours later, after a delicious hot chocolate and making good use of the café’s hand dryer, hetta, our fairy godmother, came to pick us up and take us back to her darling little house to get some well deserved sleep, a home cooked dinner and watch harry potter before we headed to the dock to catch the bus back to london at 3am.
our trip would have been awful if it weren’t for the kindness of strangers. all in all it was an adventure, just what we had hoped for. laughing till it hurt, running into the beach, enjoying the moment, bad pub food, telling stories, charming small towns, friendly strangers, being damp for 12 hours, walking in the pouring rain, living our lives. our time in wales was an adventure, one that i’ll never forget, that’s for sure.
