A long long time ago in days of irresponsibility and gung ho madness, I frequented a bohemian hang out called The Druidston Hotel. There we would gather after days of sailing, surfing and currousing, to drink copious quantities of good ale and vintage port....Until we were banned.
Do you notice how I use the term WE in order to dilute the weight of guilt I feel for the way I conducted myself personally...There were others, their names are protected from this blog but I am happy to mention them in other dispatches as they have been great pals over many years.
That was in the mid eighties..Here we are in 2011, a little slower, a little madder and considerably poorer. But it is half term for the children and my beautiful wife booked us a three night stay back at the 'Dru' to find a little peace and tranquility to explore desolate beaches and relax in the dining room and bars with fine food....and ale.
It is only a three hour drive due west from home so we had a pleasant enough time packing and taking our time before arriving at our destination...in the rain!
We had booked a late Sunday lunch of home made curry and a pint of Hobby Horse ale (wine for Kate!) Then I took Toby to see where the cellar bar was..The place from which so much hell was raised...I recall twenty years earlier, rain dripping down through the roof and the stereo playing The Doors, Riders on the Storm...loudly...Such atmosphere.
The bar hadn't changed, even the dreadlocked old man at the bar seemed to be a permanent fixture! Toby and I had a beer and an Appletizer and suddenly a voice said....'Oh hello'..
Stranger than strange...In walked my past... Craig, Wild and respective wives and the children that I had never met.
My own family joined me, Rory towering over most, Kate and of course Tobe' and we had a fantastic reunion in that old cellar bar as if time stood still.
Not content with a fond farewell we were invited to Wild's parent's home...The converted cow sheds on a hill overlooking Little Haven. Mr & Mrs H. were on very fine form indeed. The wine was breathing, huge roast dinner was just being removed from the Aga. No awkwardness was felt as we were instructed to join the long table and drink wine while the families ate. Conversation flowed, laughter bounced from the walls. How easy it is settle into the comradeship of good friends, no matter how big a gap of years has passed.
My head was swimming, I hadn't had more than one pint since November!!! Combine that with some fine red wine and I was rolling.
'Wild' nowadays lovingly called 'Mild' was due to fast for a colesterol test the next day...he is five years younger than I...and in need of medical attention! Say no more.
So that was Sunday used up! WE had to buy a few provisions on Monday then we wandered across to Haroldstone Chins via the cliff path down onto the Dru's beach. The weather was mild but overcast..It didn't stop us exploring rock pools and caves as we went.
Marloes Beach is another great place to lose yourself..Rarely a busy place, you have to walk to get to it which keeps many visitors away. Add a sea mist and chilly wind and we were once again enjoying the wide open spaces as the tide swiftly receeded. Rory said he would be revisiting these wonders when he was old enough to travel without us. It makes me feel rather mortal but reassured that our children will perhaps think of us long after we are dust (or sand) when they trek across these wonderful places.
I did sneak down the cliffs to fish but the waves were fearsome and casting beyond the breaks was impossible, the sea choppy and anyway...there are no fish left around the Great British Coast are there!
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