Once again, following in the Footsteps of Dylan Thomas
With the usual frisson of nerves, we wait for the T5 Bus to whisk us to Aberaron. This is a linear walk back to New Quay, so we will be committed. A mere 3 minutes late and we are off, winding along the coast road for an 18 minute journey that will take us significantly longer on the way back.
Aberaeron has something about it. Regency architecture, colourful buildings and a harbour that we are forced to walk around before the walk gets going proper. I hope to return.
The Cadwgan Inn is a Good Beer Guide Entry.
7 miles of linear walking should always be a joy. Lush green to the left, grey ocean to the right. Wind best described as "bracing". Alas, there is little along this section of coast. You know you are in trouble when there is not even a bench to sit on.
Everything is forgiven on the final stages of the walk. At low tides, its possible to complete the last mile along the perfect golden sands of New Quay Bay. I'm still in wind battered fleece. Other users of the beach are in the sea.
Despite Guide Dog in Training best efforts at getting us cut off, we make it across the final rocky section before getting swallowed by the tide. You cannot stop a puppy from wanting to play when there is a beach full of new friends available.
To the pub...
There's little doubt that over the course of the week, we will visit all of New Quays watering holes. Yes, I will use all my powers of negotiation to get Mrs M over the threshold of the Sea Horse. She will come to like karaoke.
Today, it's the town's most famous pub. The Black Lion, a favourite of Dylan Thomas. Referenced in his poem, "Quite Early One Morning".
‘Pink washed pub…..waiting for Saturday night as an over-jolly girl waits for sailors.’
Dylan Thomas has been a virtual drinking companion of mine over the years. I've had halves in Soho's French House, where Dylan left behind his manuscript of "Under Milk Wood". I've had pints in New York's White Horse Tavern, where Dylan has his final (18) whiskies before he died.
This sort of serendipity promotes conversation. Mrs M asks if I would die if I drank 18 whiskies, whilst mentally calculating the generous death in service benefit that I currently have until my imminent retirement.
The pub - bare floorboards, pub grub food where no one, not even those with salaries, can afford steak. A little alcove at the far end, called the Cwtch. Fans of Stella (tv series) and Tiny Rebel, will know this as Welsh for cuddle.
Purple Moose beers on and from last night, I can confirm the High Hops to be in great condition.
With the sun out this afternoon, it had to be ABK Hells lager.
Improvements? Well, Mrs M hates pubs with a "No Dogs" policy.
But when you have a view in the beer garden like this, that's a bit churlish.
Walk Details
Distance - 7 Miles
Geocaches - 1
Walk Inspiration - Country Walking Magazine, June 2003, Walk 16
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