With lockdown in the United Kingdom easing, but the threat of Covid still lingering on, I decided to celebrate my birthday and soothe my itch to travel with a short staycation with a couple of friends. We hopped the border into Wales, travelling a couple of hours from Bristol to Gower, a peninsula of South Wales that has the reputation of being one of the most breathtaking corners of the country.
We were staying at Hill End Camping Park, a pristine site in the picturesque Llangennith, boasting panoramic views across undulating sand dunes and lush green countryside, rows of tents and campervans set so close to the sea you could hear it in your sleep. After a fairly dramatic start to the trip, featuring a blown out tyre just metres from the park’s entrance, then a barely inflated replacement that allowed us to crawl in but rendered one car unusable for the rest of the weekend, we decided to keep our first evening low-key. Thankfully, one of my friends is local to the area, and she had been kind enough to set up the tent earlier that day; this meant we could simply unpack the car and skip straight to holiday mode. Soon enough the BBQ was lit, drinks were flowing and the birthday festivities were in full swing as the Sun slipped below our impressive backdrop of dunes.
The main concern of any trip taken in the UK, especially when camping, is the ever-so unpredictable weather. Go almost anywhere in Europe at the end of August and you can be guaranteed to return home with a tan. In Wales, you can only hope it stays dry. But not this time. I don’t know how we got so lucky, but we managed to choose the best weekend of the summer, blessed with sunshine and blue skies every day of our stay. So, naturally, the next day we headed straight for the beach - taking us all of 5 minutes! Clambering over the towering dunes made up of soft, silky sand was certainly a challenge, but made the subsequent few hours spent lounging in the sun all the more sweeter. With two out of three of us living in Bristol, and therefore deprived of vitamin sea, we eagerly (with perhaps a touch of trepidation) braved the cool waters. Although it was cold enough to catch the breath at first, there are few feelings I enjoy more than being suspended in the sea. Saying this, we lasted about 10 minutes before heading back to the beach to bask like cold-blooded creatures; the cooler summer days we’d been enduring hadn’t quite warmed the water enough to meet our new city-goer standards.
Later in the day we drove round to Worm’s Head, a distinctive headland protruding from the coastline that’s far more beautiful than its name would suggest. Despite lying at the end of the beach that backs onto our campsite, it still took a half hour drive through winding country lanes to get there. Luckily, we had the local to drive us around, navigating the narrow roads with ease. Driving around Gower, although at times a nail-biting experience, is a site-seeing activity in itself. Possibly more so for passengers - it is definitely advised that drivers focus on the task at hand - but those who can afford to gaze out the window will be treated to tiny farmer’s villages with weathered but charming stone cottages; free-roaming sheep, cows and the occasional wild horse that think they own the roads (and probably do); along routes that take you past fields, across moors and through dense wooded valleys, all in the time it takes to get from A to B. In an area of only 70 square miles, how easy it is to be transported to so many miniature worlds.
Up on the headland it became clear why the Gower was the first area of the UK to be named an Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty; from here I could see the vast reach of Rhossili Bay, stretching endlessly into the horizon. The sand had an almost pink hue to it, contrasting beautifully with the light blue water rippling back and forth over it. It was clear as glass and a soft turquoise colour - always a treat to see in the British Isles - and we could stare right down to the sandy sea floor from all the way up on the cliff top. Looking out on this scene, with the dazzling sun beating down, we could’ve been fooled into believing we’d driven all the way to the Mediterranean. This is the joy of staycations: the reminder of how much is on offer right on our doorstep, the places we so often overlook in the search for something more exotic. We spent a while just soaking in the scenery, then made our way back for another tasty BBQ. This time we took it to the beach, wrapped in all the layers to fend off the cool Welsh evening. After dinner, as we huddled around a pitiful self-contained log fire from Asda, barely radiating enough heat to make our cheeks rosy, a sly fox managed to find us and attempted to steal our leftovers! This definitely would’ve been a lot funnier if it hadn’t been pitch black, with our only source of light to spot the thief being this glorified tealight. Still, it added a touch of drama to an otherwise extremely mellow evening.
We were up bright and early the following morning to make the most of our last full day of the holiday, paying a visit to Mumbles. As cute as it sounds and about as urban as Gower gets, this is a tiny seaside town on the east coast of the peninsula, looking out to the far more industrial Swansea and Port Talbot across Swansea Bay. We didn’t do much other than eat ice cream, wander along the seafront and watch paddle boarders glide along the still surface, but the serene pace of the day, and of the whole weekend, was just what the three of us craved after a year of being locked up inside. Being out in the real world still felt like a novelty, and I was loving every second of watching a very ordinary day unfold.
This was only my second stay in Wales, the first being a family trip when I was about 8 years old, and I fell in love with the untouched perfection of the Gower peninsula. Granted, we had the elements on our side, which can famously make or break a British holiday, but I struggle to imagine ever seeing this gem in any other light. I’ll be sure to visit again soon, and with only a couple of hours between my home in Bristol and beauty of this calibre, I’m feeling luckier than ever to be living in the UK - temperamental weather and all.