From a Hermit's Chapel to a Saint's Cathedral (with Elves and Neoliths in Between)

 

Today we made our way up the coast, stopping first at a 6th Century ruin, then at the 21st Century phenomenon you see here.  More about that in a minute.

Here is today's route:

We started at St. Govan's Chapel, which is located along the coast in South Pembrookshire.  It's not always accessible, because reaching it requires crossing the Castlemartin British Army tank firing range.  It's one of two in the country that provides tank training with live ammunition, so if the sign says "no go," it's best not to ignore it!  We were lucky with St. Govan's; not so with the Green Bridge of Wales, a very scenic rock formation nearby.  The road was closed for some sort of maneuvers.  I'll have to save that trip for next time.

Noel led the way down the steep steps to the chapel.  Legend has it the steps are uncountable:  the number you count going down never matches the number coming back up.  That proved true for me, but I know I missed one while I was fumbling with my camera and trying not to slip on the wet steps. I wasn't buying the "uncountable" thing.

Several theories claim to explain St. Govan.  We know he was a hermit monk who lived in the 6th century.  Beyond that, it's just speculation.  He might have been Irish.  He might have been Welsh and a disciple of Eilfyw (EYE-ul-voo), the bishop credited with baptizing St. David (hang on to that name.  You'll need it later!).  Or he might have been King Arthur's knight, Gawain, who gave up the sword and took up the cross.  (I'm pretty sure I was supposed to have read that one in school:  Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, wasn't that it?  Guess who didn't read it.)

Steps from the beach to the chapel

Whatever St. Govan's origins, most legends agree on the how he came to build the chapel.  St. Govan was off meditating along the coast one day when pirates attacked and threatened to kidnap him.  Govan prayed for an escape, and, miraculously, an opening appeared in the cliff, just large enough to conceal him.  In thanksgiving for being spared, St. Govan built a chapel, nestled within the limestone outcroppings.  Later a miraculous fresh water spring appeared, and you can see the well today.  Its waters were considered healing, but sadly the spring dried up some time ago. 

St. Govan's Well

Here's a video where Noel was pointing out the object in the photo above, but I thought he was talking about a marine creature!

The original parts of the chapel date from the 6th Century, but they were expanded and refurbished in the 1200s.  It's possible St. Govan is buried underneath.

Back up the steps we trod (74 down, 75 up) and headed for our next destination, Freshwater West Beach, where a surprising sight was in store for me.  The road signs were a little intimidating along the way...

Thankfully, we didn't hear any!

In the town of Castlemartin, we happened across this 15th century "pound," where the Lord of the Manor impounded stray cattle and demanded a fine for their return.  Something tells me the Lord didn't need the money.

Pretty nice landscaping for impounded cattle!

See the white sign with the black slash?  That indicates the national speed limit -- 60 mph.  On that road??

When we arrived at our destination, Noel dropped me at the beach.  The weather turned bleaker, but it seemed to be on again, off again, all day.  No matter.  I was off on a new mission -- finding Dobby's grave!

Don't tell me you haven't read the Harry Potter books!  For shame!  The scene where Dobby the elf dies, at the very end of the movie, "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 1," was filmed here at Freshwater West.  I'm on a quest to find the place where Harry buried him.  If you want a refresher, you can find a clip of that scene here.  https://youtu.be/SkiqGr6JAEA

I loved the wild, rugged beaches.  I had no intention of swimming, of course, but I saw a whole group of kids who seemed to be enjoying a surfing class.  Brrr.

My destination lay ahead where those people are, but I took a few wrong turns on the way.

Nearly there.

Ah...Dobby!

If you haven't read the books, you won't 'get' the socks or the affirmations.  Sorry.

I was thinking, "How sweet," until I started chatting with the young people here.  They are all Ph.D.  students at Southampton University, taking measurements and photos of the Dobby "grave."  They told me the rocks and artifacts are damaging the dunes, but they aren't sure what action to take.

Believe it or not, this is one of the most visited sites in the National Trust.  If authorities dismantle the gravesite, they fear tourists will just build it again.  In the meantime, the students are immortalizing the stones, socks and sayings for posterity by shooting photos and video.  I can see it's an environmental problem, but as a Harry Potter fan, I confess I loved it.

I waved goodbye to my new friends and farewell to Dobby, and slid down the dunes to meet Noel.  He had the van ready to go for our next stop:  St. David's Cathedral, located in the city of St. David's, Wales' smallest city. 

Along the way, I jumped out of the van to snap a photo of Pembroke Castle and her most famous son, Henry VII, the first Tudor king.

Pembroke Castle with Henry VII

The statue is quite new.  Local residents, politicians and a celebrity or two raised the funds for its creation and placement on the Mill Bridge in 2017.  Henry VII was born in Pembroke Castle, and so is considered the first Welshman to sit on the English throne.

Another interesting sight along the way, some bunkers left over from WWII.

And yet another fun sighting along the way --   Remember when I said not to forget the name Eilfyw (EYE-ul-voo), the bishop credited with baptizing St. David?  Here's why.  He's also known as....

Yep.  It's not a joke.  Who knew?

 St. David's Cathedral

St. David's strikes a majestic pose as we approach by car.  But wait!  Pay for the parking first!  I can't get over how much one has to pay for parking here, even out in a rural area.  It's an accepted way of life.

There was a big fuss a while ago because the machines default to the Welsh language (Cymraeg) and apparently it wasn't obvious how to change to English.  "It's all in bloody Welsh!" one woman was heard shrieking.  I think the experience has improved since then for non-Welsh speakers, but, hey, it's WALES (or Cymru - CUM ree).  Get over it!

I admit it's difficult for me to pick out the English on street signs before it's too late.  I had the same experience in Ireland, and found myself going around and around the roundabouts trying to figure out which road was mine.  I vowed NEVER AGAIN to drive on the wrong side of the road.  But I digress...

St. David's Cathedral began as a monastic community founded by St. David, a Welsh bishop born in 500 AD.  David was a gifted speaker and a well- traveled holy man who founded a number of monasteries in Wales, Brittany and Southwest England. The current cathedral building -- whose construction began in 1115 AD -- sits on the site where David established his original settlement in about 550 AD.  

The Cathedral and the Bishop's Palace --  most associated with Bishop Henry de Gower, 1328-1347 -- straddle opposite sides of the River Alun.  It's hard to believe they were built around the same time.  The Cathedral building appears mostly intact, while the Bishop's House lies in ruins.

The Protestant Reformation nearly spelled the demise of both.  It's thought the first Protestant Bishop stripped and sold the lead from the palace roof, degrading the structure quickly.  Reformers damaged the Cathedral too, but not to the same degree, likely because Henry VIII had the remains of his grandfather, Edmund Tudor, moved there for safe keeping during the Reformation.  His tomb lies near the front altar.  

Bishop's Palace

People bring their dogs everywhere here!  This fella would rather be curled up on the sofa.

It's a beautiful church.  Like all Gothic cathedrals, the high altar is located miles away from the seats at the door.  As I walked from one end to the other, I encountered dozens of chapels, statues, nooks and relics, the names of which left my memory shortly thereafter!  The photos remain, though!

I believe this is St. Mark (Nancy, am I correct?)

Here's Edmund Tudor, grandfather of Henry VIII.

St. David, from the Shrine of St. David in the Cathedral

St. Patrick?

Oh heck.  I should have written down who these guys were.

OK.  I looked it up.  The icons are St. David (usually pictured with a dove), St. Patrick and St. Andrew.

A view of the ceiling.

As a musician and singer, I was naturally fascinated with the choir stalls.  Choristers stand in front of these little gremlins when they sing.  The little seats allow them a quick "sit" in between long chants.  Looks like you even get your name emblazoned on them!

I couldn't keep myself from taking photos of the embroidered seat cushions on the choir pews.  I only snapped photos of my favorite hymns!

Who can name this tune? (and not the American version!)

Calon Lan (a Pure Heart) is the most beloved of the Welsh hymns.  The people sing it with great gusto.  I've never heard it sung in the USA, except at Welsh Cymanfa Ganu (Cuh-MAHN-vah GAH-nee - hymn singing festivals).

Another of my favorites!

The Lord Rhys

Not sure what the headgear is about.

This is Lady Maidstone who paid for the restoration of a number of chapels in the Cathedral.  She got a prime spot in return.

The Lord Rhys, who initiated the first Eisteddfod.

I love that saying of St. David's:  "...do the little things you have seen me do."

Fishguard

After St. David's we made a quick lunch stop in the beautiful little village of Fishguard, where the first film of Dylan Thomas' "Under Milkwood," was shot in 1971.  Welshman Richard Burton naturally starred.

Noel ran off to buy us fresh mackeral and chips while I got artsy with my camera.  My blogging mentor, Cynthia, will scold me because I didn't take a photo of lunch.  Trust me, it was delicious but not very photogenic.

Pentre Ifan

One more stop to go before we called it a day.  I told Noel I particularly wanted to see Pentre Ifan (PEN-treh EE-vahn), mostly because it's so cool looking!  Well, that, and it's 5,000 years old and no one knows how people of that age constructed it.  In it's "bare bones" shape it doesn't really look like a burial chamber like the others we've seen.  Some researchers say it was used for different rituals unrelated to burials, but others believe it was originally covered in an earthen mound and stone age people did, indeed, inter their dead within.

It's made of the same bluestones as those at Stonehenge.  How in the world did they transport them from the Wales coast to England's Salisbury Plain?

Guess I'd need a step stool to straighten that capstone.

People left flowers at all of the neolithic sites we visited.  A Druid thing?

As we found in our earlier travels, these magnificent monuments pop up in the middle of nowhere, usually amongst some sheep.  I always think sheep are cute.  The blue mark identifies the owner.  The sheep mix it up with those of neighboring owners for the months they are grazing on the hills.  Then, when the shepherds herd them off the mountain, the colors distinguish which animal goes where.

Aberystwyth

Well that was another jam packed day!  We settled back in the van for a bit of a drive to our overnight destination:  Aberystwyth.  Aberystwyth is a seaside, university town.  It had more of a young feel to me than Tenby.  On the other hand, like Tenby, most of the shops seemed to close at 5 p.m.

We definitely didn't have to fight off the crowds.

 

The street signs in Wales really amused me.  They're so much more imaginative than ours. 

Are you in the market for a house?

After all that touring, I felt entitled to a little treat.  My combination mint chip and vanilla ice cream really hit the spot!

We continue up the coast tomorrow.  Stay tuned!