3 days tandeming in West Wales with the Doctor. Day 1: Get a lift to Rosebush, high in the Preselis. A ten mile downhill run to Narberth, where we are slightly held up by a puncture. Climbing up again from the river valley, reach the southern braid of the Celtic Way, part of NCN route 4, Fishguard - London. This takes us down to Saudersfoot, a slightly downmarket resort with which we are not impressed, and up the big hill again to drop down to Tenby. We tour the town to look for a b&b, the tandem attracting attention from all, eventually ending up in the Ventnor hotel, the scruffiest place in town, with wood-chip panel abounding. As the Doctor likes to have a smoke before retiring, this suits us down to the ground, and nylon sheets are hard to find these days. Out to hit the town, all the pubs are heaving, find a relatively quiet one, then on for dinner. The second bottle of wine might have been a mistake - can't finish the tin of lager afterwards, wake up feeling a little fuzzy. Never mind, a day on the tandem sorts out most problems. Heading East, the coastal cycle route takes us up hill and down dale, perhaps slightly more than we would have wished. A long swoop downhill takes us to Laugharne, home of Dylan Thomas' boathouse (where he presumably used to drink himself insensible
as he was young and easy under the apple boughs. We satisfied ourselves with a large pot of tea and a
Cawl for me, the Doctor not being partial to lunch. Climbing out of Laugharne, we chased a posse of ancient british motorcycles down the hill on the main road to St Clears, where the pub beckoned.
Two pints of
Greene King IPA under our belt (accompanied by a TV advert for Greene King IPA - can you say no to another? ) we set off on a short trip the wrong way up the A40 before diving off to mount another hill, the A40 having stolen the easy route, and climb through Welsh countryside, past the county fair, the blue signs guiding us through the lanes (just one missing) until finally we hurtle down into the industrial area of Camarthen, across the railway and the trunk road, eschewing the quiet route by the river (it's to late for that) up past the war memorial, rejecting Spillman's hotel, settling on one of the rambling old comfortable inns on the high street,Tried all the real ale listings, (lovingly torn out of the book before leaving Dinas) and a 20oz steak at Hamilton's, unconscious as soon as the telly came on, leaving the Doctor to inspect his medicine chest.
Day 3, breakfast didn't go down easy, many hours have been spent discussing whether to follow the route which is a mighty switchback for the first five miles, or join it further on having cut out the hard stuff. We go for the latter, get a good speed going up the A40, the hard shoulder not too hazardous, and a bike route on the other side, taking the side road to Meidrin, starting to meet the hills, then two ledges to gain the height (we walked some - we're not proud) Agreed that a big f***-off triple clanger is required - the bike's a little too slow in top, and it doesn'r crawl like an Evans - but once we're up there she steams along, soon at Tegwyn and rejoining the route. We find Dinas mill, looks in need of some refurbishment, and pass the watershed. Rain threatens but the donning of waterproofs staves it off as ever. We sense victory as we crest the hill to find the sea and the view of Dinas Island before thrshing down to Crymych, where the Cafe, open on bank holiday, serves us nourishing soup. There are more cyclists around as we skirt around the Preseli, in the bowl of the mountains. A last climb above Maenclochog find us once again on the road to Rosebush, earlier than expected - an hour with a pint or two reading the papers, before we take the long downhill gradient into the Gwaun to meet our families, Bessie less impressed with our exploits than we are.