Having a Wales of a time!

Wales is a nation that, until now, has avoided the attentions of the Road Snail. A visit to the valleys was clearly long overdue - not least because my mother* lives in Cardigan. In the long, wet August of twenty fifteen we decided to rectify the situation and set out to explore the southern end of Cardigan Bay.

It's an area with no shortage of places to park your 'van, with caravan parks pretty much everywhere you look along the coast. And what a coast! High, rockey cliffs plummeting down to blue-green seas. Sandy beaches, brightly painted seaside houses in picturesque little harbour centric villages and more birdlife than you can shake a stick at. As we drove along the coast road in the general direction of Cardigan we were joined, at car window height by a magnificent Red Kite which soared alongside us for a good quarter mile. Snail Towers is located in Harrogate, North Yorkshire, where we have no shortage of Red Kites ourselves. Never seen one this close though. We were on the road, it was out over the cliff, but no more than twenty feet away at any time - it was just glorious!

After a good deal of reasearch Mrs Snail selected Rhrydhalen Farm, a beautifully secluded Caravan Club Certificated Location just outside the pretty little seaside town of New Quay**, about which more later. Have I sung the praises of CLs in the blog yet? They really are excellent - and we've yet to visit a bad one. Limited to five units and generally offering a lower level of facilities than full blown Club sites*** they are generally little oases of peace. Rhrydhalen Farm was no exception. 

Baasically you follow the coast road south towards Cardigan until you get to the village of Synod Inn. Then you take the right hand turn, drive two miles down the road, past the sign for the Honey Farm and keep going until you gget to the equally little village of Cross Inn. Turn right at the shop and then after about two hundred yards take a left into the site's field. Stop the car, get out, take a deep breath and immediately feel relaxed. It's the sort of place that has that kind of effect on the soul.

Barney the Pony

 The neatly kept field of bright green grass takes up up three quarters of an acre of a larger field, the rest of which is fenced off and used for grazing. When we were there the asole occupant of the grazing section was an immensely friendly chestnut pony called Barney, who belonged to the site owner's grandson and was just visiting, so however adorable he is, there's no point booking in just to see him. He is adorable though...

The caravans all lined up neatly alongside the tall leafy hedge that separates the site from the quiet single track road that provides an alternative route into the pretty little seaside village of New Quay.

Our quiet little pitch.

It was an incredibly tranquil spot, ideally suited as a base either for exploring the surrounding area or just heading down to the beach every day.

We opted for the former - about which, more next time...

*A woman I might possibly dub "Grandma Snail" were it not for the terrifying look she gave me when I jokingly described her and her partner as "elderly people". Had we not been in a restaurant at the time I honestly believe she might have stabbed me...

**Not to be confused with the surfing haven of Newquay in Cornwall.

***Although every single CL we've stayed at has offered at least one flush toilet, as well as water, electric hook-ups and chemical waste disposal points. This makes them all better equipped than our beloved Grummore, which is a fully fledged site but has no toilets and is only half elctrified...