We started our Sunday with omelettes. I volunteered to cook, just because I miss having a real kitchen to work with. The first one fell apart, so I ate that one, but the others were all right.

After our wild night and day hike, we weren't feeling too spritely, but surfing had been planned, so that's what we were doing. We picked up Ben's London housemate Laura, who also happened to be in town visiting her boyfriend, and drove up to Llangenydd (the ll is pronounced something like "hl" and the dd is pronounced "th," so it sounds like "Hlangenith").

The roads were small and winding, worming their way between old stone walls that divide the hillsides. My stomach wasn't doing too well with it. As I was waking up, I felt a bit ill just rolling over. I managed to hold it together, but feeling as I was, I couldn't believe the others were going to give up solid land for rolling waves.




The real shame about not feeling well was I missed most of the gorgeous scenery we passed through. There were wide, sweeping farms, with livestock roaming free. The cows weren't fenced in, just tagged in the ear. We came to one in the middle of the road and had to drove around him. I didn't get a photo of him, but I did get this horse grazing by the roadside.



We came to a sort of surf emcampment. There were loads of RVs and trailers there (which the brits seem to collectively call "caravans."). Ben parked and they all suited up.




Wearing their black wetsuits, they looked like a superhero team from a Hollywood film.



As I left them to the waves, I took a few photos of the beach. It seemed like there was a longer stretch of sand from dunes to water than on the NC coast. It was filled with surfers, even with the wet, gray, moody weather.





While they surfed, I went up to a café/restaurant that was part of the area. Before the rain came down, I had a cup of tea and a couple of Welsh cakes outside. The Welsh cakes were something between a cookie and a pancake, filled with raisins, flavored with cinnamon, and dusted with sugar. They tasted good and felt good, helping me feel a little more solid in my tummy.



They didn't surf for long. The waves weren't very good, according to Ben. Apparently Marshal caught some of the best ones.



That night Sian came back and we went with her and Laura and her boyfriend, Dan the carpenter who is allergic to wood and his girlfriend, and a few more to watch a musician named Will Kileen play blues at the Park Inn. This bank holiday coincided with a jazz & blues festival in Mumbles. The guy was saw was really good, although the three of us seemed to struggle to maintain consciousness through the performance. When he took a break, we stepped back into the darts room to play this big triva/gambling game that we discovered the night before.



After the music, we set off in search of "a curry," which is just how the British say that they are going to get Indian food. The others we had heard the music with were going to have a big night out, but none of us were up for joining them. Instead, we sat in Sionna's living room and played cards. It was nice to be low key for a bit.

NEXT: Da plane! Da plane!