Saturday June 9th 2018 - Part 1 - Portobello beach

It was another morning of excellent weather and my day started off with a wander round the car boot sale in the fields just out of the village. I wasn't looking for anything in particular - I gave up trying to find mouse ornaments at boot sales ages ago - but on one stall I was attracted to a collection of older but unused postcards, some of which I could probably use for my Postcrossing hobby, so I asked how much they were. Now I don't normally haggle at boot sales as things are usually cheap enough anyway but the woman wanted 30p each for the cards so I was prepared to walk away as I could get new ones from the shop in the village for that price. She asked how much I was prepared to pay so I said if they'd been 10p each I would have had a quid's worth - so she gave in, I selected ten really nice ones and came away a happy bunny.

From the boot sale I drove up to the north side of Dulas Bay and went to revisit Portobello beach which I'd found last year. This time though I made sure that the tide was out and almost at its lowest so I would have plenty of time there without worrying about getting cut off on the riverside like I did before. Leaving the van in a convenient place halfway down the country lane leading to the bay I walked the rest of the way and emerged onto the shingle; a vast expanse of sand flats lay before me, broken only by the narrow Afon Goch (Red River) as it meandered out to sea. A lot of squawking in the nearby bushes signified the presence of a couple of pheasants and a scruffy-looking thing suddenly flew out in front of me, landed close to the water and started strutting about among the seaweed; I just managed to get a shot of it before it disappeared back into the bushes.

Not far from there was the carcass of the old fishing boat which I passed last year, but it now looked very different. Back then the whole of the back and most of one side, although encrusted with seaweed, were relatively intact but now that was all gone, leaving just the ribs of the boat and the broken planks along the bottom. I can only assume that there must have been some seriously bad weather in the bay during the winter months for it to end up like that.

A bit further along I came to the little creek with its stepping stones across the tiny stream - innocent-looking maybe, but I knew from last year's experience that it would quickly disappear under water once the tide started coming in and the river widened out. Walking from there wasn't easy as the riverside was covered in large stones and small rocks, presumably washed in on the winter tides, but the going got easier once the river widened out and I was soon on Portobello beach itself. 

The river flowed out across the sand into the sea, and though the far side of the bay was still quite rocky the rest of the beach was just a large expanse of golden sand, backed by trees and with the large Mediterranean-style Portobello House facing out to sea. Just over a mile offshore was the rocky Dulas Island with its strange-looking cone shaped rescue tower; seals are often seen living on or around the island but it's too small for human inhabitation. The tower was built in 1821 by local man Colonel James Hughes and once stored food and provided shelter for shipwrecked seamen.

Having wandered along the beach for over half an hour it was time to make my way back along the riverside to the van as not only did I need to do some shopping but I also wanted to go on to somewhere else to make the most of the day. As I walked up the lane to where I'd left the van an older gentleman leaning over the gate to a smallholding spoke to me about the dogs and I ended up having quite a conversation with him. He was a lovely man, very knowledgeable about the area too, and though I hadn't really wanted to spend too much time chatting I can honestly say it was a pleasure talking to him, and I hope I see him again sometime. Back at the van I gave the dogs a good drink and opened a can of slightly lukewarm Coke for myself then set off on the next part of my day.