If you know me at all, you'll know that I love swimming. Weekends often take me to the sea and alongside my beautiful friend Dot I've been swimming early alternate mornings in our local outdoor Lido throughout this winter.
Daniel Start's beautiful (oh so beautiful)
book,
Wild Swimming: Coast, has to be one of my favourite non fiction works of all time. Over the Easter break we headed to Pembrokeshire with
Jamie - what better to do on that craggy coastline in the spring time than a wild swim?
St Non's chapel, where legend has it Non (as she was then) birthed St David (as he became) in 500AD alone in a howling night storm, acted as a guiding marker to the steep, stony wild flower-festooned path leading down to our launch point.
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| The remains of St Non's Chapel |
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| The boy leads the way |
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| Jamie framed by thrift |
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| Beguilingly tropical |
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| The third cave along was our aim |
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| Lightening skies bode well |
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| Launching |
At this point we left cameras and modern-day reality behind. Swimming into and out of an ancient cave passage, marvelling at the murky heights above our heads and hearing the sea's sounds amplified through stony speakers left us all tired, elated and speechless with wonder.
