A Sunny Mess (The Mess)

'Those are the remains of canal boats,' explained Gwyn. 'They used to carry coal until around 1983 I should imagine.'
'Canal boats you say?' Said the boys father withdrawing from his binoculars.
'Yes, coal was a big industry around here at the time,' I told him.
'It was a busy little town then.' He said.
'Busy isn't the word,' Gwyn remarked warming to the subject. 'In the olden days the men and women of this town sweated blood and tears. Worked like dogs mun, and like dogs they got paid in bone, hardly any flesh to make them fat.'
He could paint a quite poetic picture when he wanted to, but as this was a guided walk and not a discussion on wages long ago I called everyone together to continue our walk along the coastline to Looter's Cove.
We had gone about six hundred yards when Gwyn stopped the party in its tracks.
'If you look to your left,' he told them, 'you'll be able to see the remains of the power station.'
'What was the power station?' Enquired Fredericke, a gold curl pasted to his forehead by perspiration.
'Oh it was a huge building which had three tall stacks around two hundred feet high!' Explained my eager partner, trying to describe the size with his arms.
'And what did it produce?' Brian asked.
Gwyn thought for a moment, then shrugging his shoulders replied. 'Im not sure...Power I suppose.'
I let out a sigh and pushed him onward.
'You dull bugger,' I said sharply as we lead the group. 'What an answer to give!'
'Well I was caught off guard!' He protested.
We all strolled in silence, taking in the fabulous views of the Gower across the water. It was almost noon and the sun was at its strongest. We had wandered off the tarmac road that led to an old wind turbine site and arrived at the ash ponds.
'What on earth are these?' Robert asked, clearly suprised at the sight of a large dried pond, covered with white dust and reeds.
'Moon pits,' answered Gwyn.
'Moon pits?' Brian and his son repeated in unison. The former with an incredulous tone, the latter in excitement.
'They are ash ponds,' I assured them. 'They were formed by ash and water which came from the old power station, the remains of which we passed earlier. It was closed down in 1983.'
I took my hapless partner to one side and rebuked him for giving another absurd answer.
'Blame it on this heatwave,' he grumbled. 'When are we going to take a break?'
'As soon as we reach Looter's Cove,' i told him as we rejoined the group.
'Well whatever they are,' Suze said referring to the old ponds. 'They certainly grow some lovely plants.'
She picked a few orchids and put them into a side pocket of her rucksack. Eva did the same.
We carried on walking along an overgrown path toward the short, steep bank that would lead us to the cove. By now my back felt as if it were on fire, and I wondered how our visitors were feeling with their over loaded baggage.
It was a narrow path and we walked in pairs again with Gwyn and myself in front and the others following behind, stopping briefly for photographs.
Suddenly there was a loud, piercing cry and Gwyn and I both turned quickly to see what crisis had occurred.
Doreen was laying face down in the grass whilst her husband was fiddling with something around her ankle.
'Oh crikey, what on earth has happened now?' I said to Gwyn as we retreated our steps back to the scene.
'What's happend?' I asked Brian who was still struggling with something.
'Its a snare,' he told us. 'But ive almost got it off.'
'Edwin Davies!' Shouted Gwyn. 'This is his doing! He's not content with catching rabbits, he's got to catch women nolw as well. Mind you he was chasing them in..' I nudged him in the ribs.
'There, its off!' Brian sat back relieved.
His wife however was far from relieved as she picked herself off her grassy bed.
'What kind of imbecile would put a snare on a public footpath?' Demanded Doreen while rubbing her ankle. 'I thought these things were outlawed anyway.'
'Edwin should be outlawed the stupid..' I gave Gwyn a second nudge.
'Its lucky you had those hiking boots on, those snares can be nasty.'
Robert remarked by way of consolation.
Mrs Crenshaw gave him a special look: barbed and indifferent then got up.
'Are you okay Mrs Crenshaw?' I asked carefully. 'We're almost at the cove now.'
Doreen adjusted her rucksack. 'I shall be fine as long as we do not come across any more suprises.' She replied.
Five minutes later our party arrived at Looter's Cove. Mercifully nobody had gone head long down the bank as I had feared, and soon we were all taking in the breath taking sight of the estuary. The rugged Gower always within view.
Once more cameras whirred into action, and Doreen, who had evidently forgotten her little accident, played with her son as though she were a teenager again.
Gwyn, Fredericke, Eva and myself found a large rock embedded in the sand and sat down to partake of some welcomed refreshment, much to the delight of my giddy companion. Robert and Suze sat huddled together on a grassy tuft behind us, while Brian Crenshaw stood at the waters edge like a heron with binoculars glued to its face.
'Does much fishing go on here?' Asked Fredericke as his partner, inspired by the view, loaded more film into her camera.
'Oh aye,' replied Gwyn inbetween swigs of Felinfoel ale. 'Flatfish, bass, mackerel, they're all in there somewhere. I find it easier getting them off Pete the fish myself mind. Let him do all the waiting.'
The German couple swapped bemused looks with each other.
'He means the fishmonger.' I explained.
It was getting on for one o' clock and the sun baked the sand without any relief from a cool breeze. I was beginning to wonder how long it would be before Doreen would need a break from Grayson's youthful energy, when her son came running to where we sat.
'Is it okay to paddle here?' He enquired, football in hand.
'Yes, if you've asked your mother first.' I said looking over to Mrs Crenshaw who was now standing beside her husband.
'Yes I have,' replied the lad. 'Bit she told me to ask you if the water was safe around here.'
Evidently since getting caught in the snare his mother imagined the local waters held similar dangers to the paths.
'Safe as houses in this part of the cove.' Gwyn answered for me. 'You'd have to go way out there before the currents get strong.' He added, pointing almost to Rhosilli.
With that Grayson threw down the ball and started to take off his trainers and socks.
'Tell you what,' enthused Gwyn. 'I'll come for a paddle with you. I could do with cooling down!'
He gulped down the dregs of his beer and began to untie the throttled knot on his shoes.
'I didn't think you were a paddler.' I told him as he struggled with the laces.
'If this sun gets any stronger I'll be looking for a fridge to sit in!' He moaned, finally kicking off his shoes.
After a quick dash both Gwyn and Grayson were at the sleeping waters edge.
Gwyn almost looked like a typical postcard caricature with his trousers rolled up to reveal pale, bandy legs. All he needed was the knotted handkerchief on his head I thought.
The boy was first to enter the water, sticking one foot in to test the temperature, then rushing in without a care of getting his shorts wet.
'Not too deep!' His father warned, eyes still glued to his binoculars.
Doreen had strolled a little closer to her son, taking the role of life guard in case of shark attack I imagined.
'Don't you get those shorts too wet!' She told the youngster as he kicked and splashed not heeding the warnings from his parents.
By now Gwyn had joined his fellow paddler, but unlike Grayson, he stood still like a heron looking for supper.
'I think your friend is a little frightened of water.' Commented Eva, pointing to the 'heron'.
I called over to him.
'Whats wrong? Don't tell us you've frozen up in this heat!'
'Don't be dull!' He barked, swirling the calm water with his foot. 'The beer must have slowed me down!'
There was a first time for everything was my thought but I didn't give voice to it.
'Can you throw me the ball please mum?' Grayson asked his mother who was doing her own bird impressions: a hawk.
The ball was thrown and for ten minutes Crenshaw junior happily kicked and tossed the ball around in the water, occasionaly playing 'catch' with his mother, as Gwyn looked on as if rooted to the sea bed.
Brian now had one eye on the binoculars and the other on his son. Robert and Suze, whose love for each other had seemed to have joined them at the hip, kissed softly on their grassy perch. While Fredericke had taken over camera duty as Eva lay back to bask in the sun.
We had created a happy scene, Gwyn and I. And ignoring the snare incident and occasional daft comments from my old friend, we had done well.
Thirst pulled me from my thoughts; I had two tins of warm beer left. I opened one and watched the paddlers.
Gwyn I noticed had moved slightly away from Grayson who was now flicking the ball high into the air then heading it like a goalkeeper.
'Kick the ball to Gwyn to see if he can catch it!' I shouted to the budding Peter Shilton. Gwyn threw a dagger at me.
'Leave the lad enjoy!' He said trying to escape the challenge I had given Grayson.
'Oh go on.' Brian chipped in. 'My sons a very good kicker you know.'
If that remark had meant to encourage my friend it failed. He looked more worried now if anything.
Grayson held the ball and positioned himself ready for the kick.
'Are you ready? Im going to give you my cannon ball special!' The boy glowed excitedly. Gwyn turned a colour that would have made a ghost envious.
'Not too hard mind.' He warned, getting ready to recieve the ball.
Grayson by now had come out of the water to give his legs more freedom, while Gwyn had gone a little deeper.
'Okay, here it comes!' Yelled young Crenshaw.
The ball went shooting through the air, Gwyn lifted his arms like an air traffic controller, then slap! It hit him squarely on the forehead, knocking him backwards, flailing wildly. There was a loud splash as he fell into the water. The eight of us burst into peals of laughter, as we watched him struggle in the foamy froth.
It stopped immediately when we heard Gwyn shouting.
'Annwyl Duw! A bloody jellyfish has got me! He yelled hysterically, forgetting his language.
'Its got me by the leg!' He waved, splashing around like a landed conger eel.
We all ran to the water, Robert and myself going to his aid.
'Stop splashing then!' I ordered as I felt around his leg while Robert held him up.
There was indeed something on his leg but it was the strangest looking jellyfish I had ever seen.
'You silly fool!' I said careful of my own language. 'Its a plastic bag! You must be the first ever to get attacked by a bag!'
I fished the bag from the water and held it up to everyone who had now resumed the laughter.
'Oh thank the Lord for that!' Cried my soaked friend. 'I thought it was curtains for me then mun!'
That put an end to anymore water sports, we all went back to the large rocks.
'Look at the state of me,' moaned Gwyn. 'I might as well have gone for a swim!'
'You can always go back in if you want.' Offered Eva from behind a still beaming smile.
'No fear. Im not going back in there!'
'Frightened there may be more jellyfish?' I said to the amusement of the others. Gwyn frowned.
'How was I supposed to know it was only a bag?' He reasoned as he opened his lat beer can and took a greedy swig.
It was Roberts turn. 'Well having Tesco stamped on its side might have given you a small clue.'
The group started giggling again.
'I'll tell you one thing.' Gwyn stated flatly. 'I will never look at a plastic bag the same way again!'
It was quite a while until the merriment and banter died down and when it did it was half past two. Time is no match for laughter I thought. I got to my feet.
'Okay then, we had better be getting back now. Gwyn and I don't want to take up too much of your time in Tref Y Ceiliog.'
'No thats right.' Added my wet friend. 'And if I stay here much longer I'll smell like the back of Pete the fishs' van.' He said wringing out his clothes.
'Will we be going back the same way?' Brian asked as he carefully replaced his beloved binoculars in its case.
'Im afraid so,' I replied uneasily for fear they might think we had short changed them.
'You see the only other route is along the railway line and past a sewage farm.'
'And I stink enough without going through there.' My companion stated.
Soon we were heading back along the same stunning coastline, still the cameras blinked and more questions asked. For the first time since childhood I felt a part of Tref Y Ceiliog, a belonging. This town was home to me, with its hills and gossip, pubs and beaches; and as I walked on the lush grass I knew it always would be home. I knew Gwyn felt the same too.
I felt quite merry as our party arrived back at Amelia Earharts monument. Afterall today had shown me the town in a different yet familiar light.
'Well then,' I said putting my bag down. May I just end this walk by saying how much Gwyn and I have enjoyed showing you Tref Y Ceiliog's more interesting places.'
Brian spoke up. 'Thank you very much.' He shook both our hands.
'And I know I speak for all of us when I say that it has been a most entertaining day.' He looked at Gwyn when he said this.
'Here here!' Robert piped in. 'Suze and I have loved it. Thanks very much!'
Eva stepped up to me. 'Fredericke and myself will have happy memories of your sweet little village to take back to Germany. Thank you.' She planted a soft kiss on my cheek.
'Im glad mum brought me here, the beach is a long way from our house.' Grayson told us. It was no secret who ruled that house I thought.
I did not expect such a satisfied response to our efforts, and when they each handed us their three pounds I felt slightly guilty. Indeed if they had not left us at that point I would not have accepted the monies.
'Thank you all very much again!' I said waving to them all as they made their seperate ways.
'Safe journeys to all!' Shouted Gwyn.
When they had gone I turned to my damp friend.
'Well? I'd say that went pretty well for two loafers.'
'Aye, its been a grand day.' Replied Gwyn. 'And speaking of loafs, i'm starving.' He added rubbing his stomach.
'We can get fish and chips from Barry's chippy.' I told him holding out our days 'reward'.
'You're on! With plenty of vinegar!' He licked his lips.
'Of course. And we can go end the day in the Needle and Haystack. I want to look at the old photos of the place.' I said with a rekindled passion and thirst.
Gwyn's eyes filled with joy at the prospect. Then he looked down at his soggy clothes.
'I'd better get changed first. Damned jellyfish!'
We laughed our way up the street.
Tref Y Ceiliog was the greatest town I knew of. It had it all from history to pretty corners where nature painted a fabulous canvas. Even the graves had glorious views from the cemetery on a hill, as close to clouds as it was to roads. And it was home.