St Non's well (backblip)

I am sorry about the cheesy text on the collage, but it turns out that it can't be changed, at least not on the free version of Photo Editor.

This was the last full day of our holiday. I suggested going back to St David's, as the bus goes there every day, and taking a walk from there. We got to the city (yes, it's a city!) and located the National Park info centre, which is housed in a stunning modern purpose-built edifice. We viewed the art exhibition, and set off on a walk which the guidebook said would take about 1.5 hours. There's a ruined chapel, and a modern retreat centre. The statue looks more like the rather more famous Our Lady, but maybe she's Our Lady of St Non's. It was a tranquil spot. A film crew was making something for local TV about staycation summer visits, but they didn't bother us. GG gave a passing mother and child £1 to put in the healing well.

The walk took us out of St David's the cliffs, which were not far away. At last we were on the Pembrokeshire coastal path. I'd waited a long time for this, maybe twelve years since I was last on it. We got to the shrine of St Non, the mother of St David. As you can see above, there's a healing well, and a statue garlanded with rosaries.There's a ruined chapel, and a modern retreat centre (the statue looks more like the rather more famous Our Lady, but maybe she's Our Lady of St Non's). It was a tranquil spot, on a perfect day.  A film crew was shooting something for local TV about staycation summer visits, but they didn't bother us. GG gave a passing mother and child £1 to put in the healing well. I thought £1 was excessive. I am more of the rag-tying persuasion when it comes to wells. As we were leaving, another family came along, and I heard the father encouraging his children to dip their hands into the well, and take out the coins. "Someone's put in a whole pound!" he cried. I murmured a secret spell, in the hope that his toes would later drop off.

Further along the clifftop, we stopped for a packed lunch. I believe it was chicken sandwiches. When we came to the beach at Caerfai, we made our way down the steep slope onto the very rocky bay. The tide was high, but I picked my way over the stones to the buffety waves. Eventually I got out beyond the breakers and swam, but it wasn't easy swimming. Better for sit down paddleboarding or dinghies. So I got back before I started to worry, and read for a while, then we hauled ourselves back up the path and walked back along the road to St David's. We could have taken the coastal bus, but I wanted to complete the walk. When we got back to the National Park Centre, it was half past four, so the walk had taken us five hours instead of an hour and a half. GG has only one speed, but she did incredibly well along the coastal path and particularly on the beach at Caerfai.

I got a coffee, we caught the bus, and when we got back to Fishguard we were allowed us in to eat at the Royal Oak, just like that. No waiting, no coming back later. It must be GG's fancy hairdo, it always looks a million dollars, even if she hasn't been to the salon for days. Mine is more of a through-the hedge-backwards look. Afterwards, we walked back in the evening light via the lower town and the marine walk around the headland. That took us to the parrrog, and we walked back up the hill to Goodwick, past the silent harbour. I am writing this two weeks later, but I don't know if the Stena Line ferries from Rosslare in County Cork are running yet. It's a CoVid thing.

Final night in the B and B, one more breakfast to look forward to, and of course the dreaded packing. Will I be back? Hell, yeah!