A Sunny Mess (The Route)

Wednesday afternoon and the pair of us sat at our usual table in the Haystack, next to a bay window but closer to the bar, plotting out a route of sorts.
It was proving to be a difficult task, and the two pints that we had ordered were probably the longest we had ever drank. The pub was empty apart from Caradog who was singing 'Myfanwy' to himself whilst checking the optics and wiping his brass heirlooms.
'Okay,' I said, still sifting through guides scattered on the table. 'We begin the walk from Amelia Earharts monument, then head straight for the harbour. Thats our best bet I reckon.'
'Aye, we can show them the old pickle factory.' Gwyn added with a smile.
'Nevermind the pickle factory! Its where do we go from there thats bothering me.' I was starting to feel sure we had bitten off more than we could chew and my companions carefree attitude seemed to cement the feeling. Like the bottles in the Haystack's stone walls I was beginning to feel stuck.
'Do we go towards Penglas,' I continued. 'Or go to the other side of the harbour toward the lifeboat shed?'
Penglas was Tref Y Ceiliog's neighbouring village. It was a small place with nothing to offer but history.
Gwyn sipped on his glass, pondering for a moment.
'I would head towards the lifeboat shed.' Offered Caradog who had finished with the brass and had evidently been listening to our plans. 'There's nothing in Penglas but gossip!'
'Thats true,' agreed my friend. 'Gossip and graveyards, thats all there is to Penglas!'
I looked at them both in turn. 'So its toward the other side then?' I asked.
'I'd say that would be better,' replied the landlord turning his attention to something else behind the bar.
'Are we settled on that Gwyn?' I asked him directly.
'Aye, although theres hardly anything that way either now they've blown the power station up! Where do we go from there?'
'Thats simple,' I stated with what little confidence I had left. 'We'll walk past the lifeboat shed and along the coastline toward the old ash pit ponds.'
The ash ponds had been created from coal dust and water that had poured through pipes from the power station many years ago. In earlier days the ponds had looked like the moon's surface, and many children had become spacemen after school.
'You want to show them the moon pits?' Gwyn asked incredulously.
'Sure, why not? Its history afterall.'
'Of which we know bugger all about!' He reminded me as he opened a packet of crisps.
'Okay but theres some beautiful scenery down there, along with the wildlife. Birds, rabbits, foxes and such.' I tried to put as much enthusiasm into my voice as possible because Doubting Thomas in the bible was compared to Gwyn the epitome of assurance.
By this time Caradog had steered his way back into the conversation.
'I shouldn't think there'd be much rabbits down there now.' He remarked putting a cloth over the beer pumps. 'I think Edwin Davies and his ferrets have seen to that. He'd shoot Bugs Bunny mun! Anything to put in his missus' cawl!'
'You must admit though,' Gwyn chipped in. 'Her cawl is the best in West Wales.'
I peered through the window. It was as if I was discussing a different topic. I should have realised that to try and get his attention in the pub would be useless. I resolved to finish the route at home, where we ought to have stayed in the first place should any more tourists happen to phone.
I finished my pint. 'We'd better get back to the phone Gwyn, otherwise we'll only have three people to take on the walk.'
He frowned. 'I thought we were going to have another few pints.' He sounded like a child being deprived of a treat. 'We don't want to leave Caradog here on his own.'
'Don't you worry about me,' the lanlord said happily. 'You boyos go and attend to the tourists, ive plenty to do here!'
Gwyn grumbled to himself and drained his glass.
'Thanks for the drinks, we'll see you soon Caradog.' I said opening the door to leave, with my partner following like a disgruntled dog. As soon as the door of the Haystack was closed I heard 'Myfanwy' pipe up again in glorious tenor.

** **

'Right then,' I told Gwyn back at the house, once more leafing through pages of local guides. 'We've got as far as the ash ponds. How about going onwards, crossing the railway track and showing them the estuary?' I offered.
Gwyn scratched his chin giving the impression that at last his cogs were turning. Partly because they'd had the required lubrication I thought to myself.
'I reckon it would be nicer to show them Looter's Cove,' he suggested finally. 'That way we won't have to cross the railway line, and anyway you can see the estuary better from the cove.'
It was the best idea he had made in days.
Looter's Cove as it was known locally, was directly beyond the ash ponds. One only had to climb down a tiny, steep hill and you were there.
'Great idea mun!' I patted him on the back. 'We can show them where the wind turbines used to be as well then.'
'Aye, what a waste of money that was. Still we can tell the grockles they were going to be used as props in the film 'War of the Worlds', they looked alien enough to me.' He grinned.
I thought the route through again in my mind. I did doubt if it would be sufficient enough but on the whole I was satisfied. If we went any further past Looter's Cove we would end up in the messy border which seperated Tref Y Ceiliog from the drive through village of Cwmllais. So that was it I determined to myself. That would be our guided walk.
I came out from thoughts. 'Well thats it then Gwyn,' I said as if shooing away all doubt. 'That will be our stroll on friday.'
He clapped his hands together. 'Amen to that!' He shouted. 'Now how about a can each to soothe our efforts as it were?'
'I think that can be arranged,' I told him heading into the kitchen. Gwyn might have been a little naive about certain issues but he was a dear friend who was all heart and ale, and with those qualities who could complain?
By suppertime we had booked two more couples to join us on the walk: Fredericke and Eva who were backpacking through Wales from Germany, and a Scottish pair who didn't sound Scottish, Robert and Suze who were engaged to be married after their trip.
'Lets hope that German couple have brought the right money.' Remarked Gwyn as he left for his house after supper that evening. 'We don't want to end up with a pocketful of dollars.'
I whistled the theme to A Few Dollars More as I shut the door on my dizzy friend.