Last walk on the great Roselli beach with Charlie. He took his shoes and socks off to walk bare foot, which gave him a freedom I didn’t have. We had danced around each other this time, bumped into each other occasionally, but still we danced.
After many false starts trying to find a garage to diagnose my van engine light, I took a chance, and motored on. So it was around 4pm that I hit the western shore, after a long drive over a mountain range. Seeing the sea in the distance, I was drawn to it. We motored down into the village of New Quay. The farmer later said to me, many miss out this coast in favour of the more popular Cardigan, Pembroke. It was a working harbour, tide was out, dogs delighted for a run, they ran ahead and played around 2 people, one of which started to walk torward me. Oh dear I thought, not everyone likes dogs.
“What fabulous dogs you have”, she said ‘This one reminds us of the one we had, so similar, also a short haired collie’. Her friend was metal detecting, and Bobji was helping her dig a hole in the sand – a favorite pursuit. I only left their easy conversation as I felt pressed to find a place to stay the night. But the sun was still warm and inviting, and so we accepted the invitation, and got fish and chips from one of the 3-4 places to get such a dish. While collecting, the two girls arrived considering the same a good idea. Welcome to join I offered, I’ll sit on the harbour. They were a joy to meet, and quickly we found our 5 degrees, and so many more avenues to explore: They had met over 20 years ago at a death convention, Cath (Brew) was a graveyard gardener (did I remember correctly?), and Angie (McLachlan) a practicing embalmer. While witnessing a man trying to get the attention of the audience with a spoon on a plate, Cath did a magnificent wolf whistle, that’s my girl thought Angie. I never explored or gathered her work with the dummies, nor did we explore her link with Phillip Carr Gomm (she was a member of the Order of Ovates). With Cath we shared a love of being on the road, as she had been raised with parents who believed in road life, and took her off to India in her teens.
The dogs and I found a perfect camp site, with evening and morning walk along the Welsh coastal path, views over the harbour and sea. The owners, sheepherds of 500 sheep, admired the dogs, spoke easily.
We dallied in Machynlleth over a delicious coffee, felt the kinship with the people around, and then, my body satiated, walked the dogs in Dyfi forest, a joy to explore for a brief time: velvet moss clad beeches, juniper understory.
By this time, I’d heard back from Dominic Doble (who i’d texted that morning) who recommended a Slate Museum in the north (Padarn Country Park, Llanberis), so there we headed. A fascinating place, and I was in time for a demonstration, which informed me: There used to be 350 mines in wales, now 2. Today most slate now comes from China. The remainder dust is used in medicine and cosmetics. Slate is a metamorphic 530 million years old. Cambrian Slate:
They were originally formed as deep-water mudstones on an ancient sea-floor around 500 million years ago. These rocks were later uplifted, folded and metamorphosed to form slates about 400 million years ago. Slate splits easily into thin sheets because of the alignment, or foliation, of tiny mica crystals in the rock.
All the slate sizes were named after women. Duchess, Princess etc.
It was a short distance to Pwllheli, our cottage, where Kevin and Gill were settling into. It has an up stairs sitting room with views over the sea. Sheep are all around!
Kalikellett 