to another - and the sprawling valley surrounding
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| Kidwelli Castle & The Gower | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Oct. 5, 2002 | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| Mind your head | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| I love the fall. It is full of all sorts of sights and sounds that I always associate with it, no matter the time of year. Burning woodstoves in the early spring smell like fall. Wind in the trees, shining sun but bitter cold, that�s football weather. Church or school bells, Benny Goodman, the theme song to the Rocky Horror Picture Show � those sound like late October. Chai tea. Apples. You get the idea. And if a fall season passes and does not contain these things, it is either incomplete or a sham. But when it does have them, oh it is a happy time indeed. I bring this up because my trip to Kidwelly and Gower was on a very fall day in very fall towns, with very fall sights and fall feelings and I adored every fall-second of it. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| on side of the Kidwelli Tower to another - and the sprawling valley surrounding |
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| Kidwelly is very quaint little town and for a second you mistake it for small town Maine, then you realize that you�re walking up a driveway to a castle and are promptly reminded that you are in Wales. Of course, you also have to kick yourself for being daft, comparing it to a state that the British settled, let alone one you�ve never been to. Actually, you don�t have to kick yourself, because if you are like me when walking down into the prison below the castle, you bonk your head a smart one on the archway (because the sign saying �Mind your head� was for decoration). But you look around casually to see if anyone saw that then ask your friends clandestinely if they have Tylenol. By this point in my travels I had | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| visited a good number of castles, each unique, and this one by its design in that instead of a series of towers running along the wall, the castle had a main gate, a wall, and all of the towers stood independently within. Once you brave the climb, you are greeted with a pleasant view. The countryside just sprawls in every which way, vast green fields with the dotted sheep, each bordered by clumps of trees that were just beginning to change colour, and the little village of Kidwelli and the church steeple rising above and a merry little toll to tell you it is 15 minutes past the hour, and you smell the wood burning and shiver at the breeze and say �Oh yeah, it�s October - Dammit Janet!� And you hate to leave. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Warmth and fuzziness | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| From there we headed out to the Gower Peninsula. I love the coast of Wales. And I say that not just because they get the thumbs up autumn-lovers seal of approval award, but because it is just an immensely dramatic scape that has you oohing and ahhing no matter how many times you see it. We stepped off the bus to a blustery welcome in the town of Rhosseli and then headed down the path toward the Worm�s Head, a section of rock jutting out of the sea that, surprise surprise, looks like a worm poking out of the ground. We climbed out as far as we could (the tide cuts off some of the peninsula when it�s in) and just relished in the sunshine and the shadows on the hills that are etched with reddish spots, brilliant green and shades of gold, flecked with purple, smiling at the winding road twisting through the hills, sucking mindlessly on a cider favored icelolly and seriously feeling fuzzy inside. But you are also very sad. You think of all these things surrounding you that soaking with seasonal goodness that you love and you realize it is missing spice cake on you�re dad�s birthday, or talking like a sailor with your giggling sister, or your blue heeler chasing after every stick you throw at her; you miss hearing La Traviata | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Autumn in the Three Cliffs on the Gower Peninsula | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| sung from the shower at 5 a.m. or mum making scotcharoos for whatever school function that takes place that week. It�s very confusing. You are so thrilled at your experiences in the strange land, but you feel that twang of being so far away. But they go together. That twang makes being away more enriching, and being away makes home more special. And all of it makes for one very fine day. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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