I chatted with an elderly caravanner before we left, he was also a keen cyclist and mountain walker, still with a wonderful zest for life. The sunken lanes to the sea were lovely, though I wouldn’t like to be doing this in peak season with motorists squeezing down them. We popped down for a look at Abercastle then on to Trefin for coffee and lovely carrot cake where we spoke to a couple on bikes, though they were only out for the day from their campsite. We continued a bit further then dropped down to the coast at Abereiddy where we lunched and Christine had a swim. I went in a short way but the water was too cold for me.
We stopped to see the cathedral and bishops palace in St Davids, the smallest city in Britain, really just a village with a huge cathedral. We cycled out to a campsite overlooking the sea, attached to an organic farm and after pitching the tent we popped back for food. We were next to a selfish family who claimed the picnic table between the pitches for their sole use, even moving it towards their tent when we weren’t there. Pathetic really, the sort that give Londoners a bad name – and their children were called Misha and Gabriel, oh dear! A neighbourly couple from Liverpool on the other side lent us a chair.