Weathering Wales Day 1 - A Ferry Long Wait - Pembroke to the Gower

8:30 AM, rise and shine from my last cosy sleep for the next 2 weeks. Despite being completely wired the night before, I had slept well. I was essentially all packed and just had some final touches to my packing before going out the door on this long anticipated adventure. Today the goal was to get to the Gower, a hefty trip of 122km. It seemed like I had plenty of time. The key time-sensitive element of today's trip was the Llansteffan ferry. The schedule changed daily due to the tides, and today it was leaving at 3 PM. I had to make this ferry; otherwise, I would have an extra 30 km to ride to get around on land. With that in mind, I had to leave Pembroke by 10 AM. Otherwise, I might have aimed to leave much earlier, around 8 AM, so this made for a more relaxed start. However, when you're wandering around in circles, still thinking of new little things, time has a way of disappearing. Every few minutes, I thought of something else—checking tire pressure, adjusting my saddle, or repacking a bag just in case. The time to leave was fast approaching it seemed to be taking an age to get out the door. Finally I was all set up on the driveway, about to leave when I noticed the Ortlieb bracket for my handlebar bag was loose. I went to tighten it, felt a snap, and my heart sank when I realized I had sheared the bolt! Cue the emergency cable ties! Before I knew it, what had started as a leisurely morning had turned into a frantic rush against the clock. Finally, I rolled out at 10:15 AM, but I carried the stress with me. Thankfully, I had factored in an hour for incidents just like this!

Almost ready to go, before my Ortlieb bracket snapped!

Finally on my way!

It took the first 30 km or so on familiar local roads to unwind, with a steady climb to Reynalton and then to Tavernspite. I focused on getting used to the weight of the bike and easing into tourist mode, resisting the urge to clock-watch.  I started to relax a bit, enjoying the long sweeping descent from Red Roses down to Llanddowror. For a few glorious minutes, it was just me, the bike, and the joy of freewheeling momentum. I even practised a few moments of aero position on the butterfly handlebars, which got the heartrate back up again! The plan was to get some lunch in St Clears, but as I arrived there, my feelings changed. It was probably another hour to Llansteffan—if I just pressed on, I could have lunch there, knowing exactly how much time I had left. I decided to pushed on.

I knew the road to Llansteffan would be hilly, but even still, I was not prepared for just how hilly it was. The road was relentless— particularly on one long drag to a place called Llangynog, the false hope of a dip and then another steep climb that wasn't really long but really had some teeth to it. My legs were already heavy, the energy drained from them earlier than I had expected. Doubts started creeping in—was I really prepared for 14 days of this? If I was feeling this exhausted halfway through the first day, how was I going to manage the days to come? Every metre of incline chipped away at my confidence, making me question if I had taken on more than I could handle. I was already feeling worn out, and I wasn’t even halfway through the day. Then, finally, the road tipped downward. I could see evidence of the sea as I enjoyed the free speed and the breeze on my face. And finally the sign I was looking for. Welcome to Llansteffan.

I reached Llansteffan at 2 PM, giving me a full hour before the ferry's departure. I spun around to a nearby café, ordered my lunch, and sat outside on the grass. When it arrived, I promptly wolfed it down, grateful for the break and the chance to regroup before the next stage of the journey. The wait by the beach made me antsy, nervously watching for the ferry. I had asked at the café about where the ferry would be, as there was no jetty or anything visible. The young lady told me there was a flag on the beach and that I would see people waiting there. However, when I returned to the beach, this was not so clear. No sign of a flag, no sign of a ferry. Quite a few people appeared to be waiting around, but the lack of clarity was disconcerting for me. One of the guys from work during the week had jokingly offered me lift if things went pearshaped on Day 1. I had shrugged it off at the time, but here I was thinking about what I would do if the ferry didn't arrive. The alternative was at least an extra 30km of cycling, or another 2 hours at the rate I was going.

While I was waiting, some people took an interest in my packed bike, asking about my trip, unwittingly unlocking a strange conflict of emotions. At first, I spoke proudly about my ambitious 14-day tour, but this quickly turned to sheepishness when I revelaed I was only halfway through Day 1! I met another traveller, who confirmed he was also waiting for the ferry. He seemed to share a similar uncertainty about the arrival. I decided to stress about new things. There were many people hanging around - would they even let me on with the bike? What about when I got off on the other side? Was there a check in time for the campsite I had to get to? I was hardly going to get there before 7 - I hadn't even thought about that before now!

Finally, at around 3:05, I spotted the ferry across the bay. It made its way over surprisingly quickly, and I started moving down onto the beach, trying to guess where it would ultimately land, drawing an arc in the sand with my heavy, sinking bike. As I approached, I quickly asked the captain—who bore an uncanny resemblance to Captain Birdseye—if the bike would be okay on board. He smiled and assured me it was fine. It was only then that I looked around and realized that, out of the crowd on the beach, only one other person was actually ferry-bound!

Finally my ferry arrives!

Once I had taken all the bags off the bike to hoist it onto the boat, I struck up a conversation with the other traveler, who, as it turned out, was also named Brian. He knew Captain Birdseye personally and had planned to surprise him. He could have called ahead while we were both waiting in uncertainty, but he didn’t want to ruin the surprise. I wasn’t sure how to feel about that! . With only the 3 of us on board I decided to try recording a video with my 360 camera on its 1m selfie stick — my first venture into being an embarrassing tourist. 

After Ferryside, and the faff getting my bike and luggage off the ferry first and then off the stoney beach, I hit a lovely coast road which turned out to be surprisingly busy - not in an overbrearing way. I just really needed to pee and the frequenecy of cars just about prevented me from doing so! I was genuinely worried about the campsite check-in time. It was 3.20pm now and I still had 60km to go. I did know that this half of the trip would be much flatter than the first half so I pressed on. Kidwelly, or the route I took through it, was a little underwhelming so I didn'treally take in the sights here. I then quickly found myself on a cycleway on what appeared to be an old canal towpath that brought me into Burry Port. From here, I got onto the very pleasant Millenium Path to Llanelli and just flew along here. I think ordinarily a person on holidays might take in this area more - a predominatly flat / rolling 10km of smooth surface paths away from traffic - but I was just focused on using the easy terrain to get where I was going. Faced with the alternative of a busy dual carriage way, I then took the offroads of varying quailty through the Llanelli Wetlands nature reserve. I was making good time here, and was starting to feel better about my progress. 

Shortly after leaving Llanelli and Gorseinon, I passed along the edge of Gowerton and turned westwards onto the Gower Peninsula. Here I made a stark realisation - I had been aided, quite a lot by a decent tailwind, up to this point - a wind I was now going to have to battle for  the next 20km to get to my destination. It was 5.30pm now, could I get there before 7? I saw a petrol station as I came out of Gowerton and thought about stopping for some fuel (petrol was not quite to my taste, but there was other carby treats within!). Against my better judgment, I pushed on - I had to get to the campsite, and logical thoughts of dinner this evening or breakfast in the morning didn't enter my mind. Despite the flat roads, progress was slow as my loaded bike fought against the wind, and the occasional aggressive driver didn't help either. Finally I managed to get away from the main road onto something called Marsh road, which was exactly what it said on the tine - a road so low, I wondered how this could stay dry in high tide.The sea, in fact, already seemd higher beyond the marshes.

Then I came into a small town called Llanrhidian and immediatley a rough climb, through and out if it. It was a sunny Saturday eve and people were in the sun with a pint to take in the sight of my slow escape from town. There were lighthearted comments and ironic cheers but unfortunatley my wit was not quicker than my speed, and i just had to take it, as I laboured onwards and upwards. I rejoined the main road again, but only for about a kilometre before taking another right which gradually dipped down into a big descent back down to sea level again. With no real flat bit at the bottoom this turned into a mean climb through a little village called Llanmadoc. I put the village behind but the climb just went on and on. I seemed to keep passing people just as I really struggled on these climbs, corssing a group of young holiday goers as they wandered down the hill. I probably turned purple as I tried to steady my breathing while passing them, a moment that felt far longer than it was. This was the reality of plotting a route to hug the coast, i thought, as I cursed this part of the route which seemed to take me down off the main road just to climb back up to it again, with no real scenery pay-off - something to consider for future days! Again I joined the main road but to add to the seemingly never arriving destination I passed a few campsites that I had tried to book. I found negative thoughts creeping in "If i had booked here, I'd be thre by now" but tried to push them away - there was a reason I was heading where I was heading afterall.

After a bit of a draggy long climb I started a nice sweeping descent, hopefully my final of the day, down to Llangennith and my campsite just beyond. As I flew through the town I saw a nice pub and wondered would I pop in their later for a pint. I continued down the hill, and was less than 1km from the end  when to my dismay had on more steep (18%) hill before hitting the campsite. What kind of cruelty was this? It wasn't particularly big, but it may as well have been Everest, delivering me to the entrance overlooking the whole campsite and the dunes beyond. Just before 7 PM, I was relieved to find the reception still open. The staff were relaxed and helpful, even letting me know that the campsite restaurant would take final orders at 8 PM. 

I decided to go about setting up my tent as soon as possible. My camping pitch was huge, clearly intended for a motorhome and a car parked beside. My bike and tent were completely lost in it. I went about getting my tent out, just as a neighbouring German family were setting out their dinner and looking on. They seemed increasingly intrigued as I inflated my tent using my bike pump—something they had clearly never seen before. I was quite pleased with myself, to capture the imagination of discerning German campers, but had no time for small talk. I needed FOOD.

Day 1: Done!

I decided not to have a shower and change just yet, I wanted to make I got my order in and see what was what. They said it would be an hour's wait for the food, but equally implied it could come out much quicker than that, so I was now tied to the restaurant for the foreseeable evening. Furthermore, I had to wait outside for a table as the light faded. I could've had a shower in this time, but didn't want to miss anything coming out or the opportunity to remedy any mistakes - something about the hecticness of the staff made me wonder if my order was taken at all. Eventually I did get back inside and get a table and get my food, and it was worth it - that and the 3 pints of coke I also had with it. I decided against having a beer - I knew from previous experience that drinking and camping don't mix to well. It was a bit weird sitting on my own as a solo traveller in a hectic campsite restaurant and bar surrounded by large clusters of friends, but equally, I was happy not to be social - I just wanted to unwind from the day

Worth the wait!

After eating, I finally took a shower, though I later realized I had used the beach showers instead of the more luxurious shower block around the corner. oops! I spent a bit of time sorting out vdieo editing and social media updates (a few people had asked for updates on Instagram, so I obliged, setting a precedent for the 2 weeks to come), but ultimately was ready for sleep by 10pm. The breeze was still pretty strong and the sound of the waves crashing on the nearby beach where surprisingly loud, still very audible through my earplugs. I hoped for a good night's sleep. I was relieved to have completed Day One. But tomorrow, I would have to do it all over again! 

Wales Day 1: Route