Cliff Notes, from the links to Laugharne

Too many of the artists of Wales spend too much time 

talking about the position of the artists of Wales. 

There is only one position for an artist anywhere: 

and that is, upright.

Dylan Thomas

Never have I seen so many sheep grazing or frolicking in wide open fields…

The sheep counting may have put me to sleep last night, but assuredly the sheep counting was replaced by shot counting at dawn. Armed with 1 set of clubs between us (the hotel owned 1 set of right handed clubs and 1 set of left handed clubs), including one putter, two sand wedges, one pitching wedge, a seven iron, a three iron, and a driver that just celebrated it’s 3rd or 4th decade in the world, we teed off in frigid air as the shallow pink light peeked over the 7am sun, rising into the sky.

Our only audience was the sheep in the neighboring fields and the birds gracefully fighting the winds overhead, but the applause of the waves crashing below us was loud enough to do the US Open crowds proud. Alternating between the need to feel our fingers and the desire to have a feel of the club, the gloves came on and off in a lovely harmony. Good shots and laughter filled the air as we watched the wind sweep our shots across the fairways, over the bunkers, onto the greens, and around the pitch and putt built on sun-bleached cliffs with spectacular views.

So, 9 holes and 1 hour and 15 minutes later, we were inside, enjoying a hot English breakfast complete with fried eggs, sausage and tomatoes.

Now accustomed to bussing across the fields, our mid-morning adventures took us to St. David’s Cathedral, founded by Saint David before 600 AD. William the Conqueror visited the site in 1081 and 100 years later, the Norman King Henry I appointed a Bishop to the community, and began constructing a new Cathedral. A bit of great Catholic humor recalls Pope Calixtus II’s decree that “Two pilgrimages to St Davids is equal to one to Rome!” according to our tour guide. The cathedral was saved from sure destruction under Henry VIII’s rampant eccelesial overhaul because St. David’s maintained the tomb of Edmund Tudor, H8’s grandfather… a lesson for us all!

The cathedral was restored by Sir George Gilbert Scott (grandfather of red tele box and Bodleian designer Sir Giles Gilbert Scott) in the late 1800s, and sections continue to be reconstructed today.

Our next adventure led us to the quaint town of Laugharne, home of Dylan Thomas (“where Dylan Thomas lived, wrote and drank!” signs proudly read), a Norman Castle, and “licensed” Fish & Chips.

As someone who has enjoyed A Child’s Christmas in Wales, by Dylan Thomas, visiting his home was a delight and having  “licensed” Fish & Chips for lunch was fantastic! Dylan Thomas lived (and died) as only Hemingway could have appreciated… and seeing his spectacular view and adorable home put all of his writing into context.

Our Welsh adventure ended in Laugharne, and the four+ hour bus ride back allowed for sleep, sheep counting, cow counting and a fantastic recollection of the extraordinary experiences of the last three days.

Although Dylan Thomas did urge us to “Rage, rage against the dying of the light.” Sleep called and the sheep answered, dancing like sugarplums in our heads.

The game will be afoot another day,

ej

Cliffs of Wales, Laugharne, Oxford

Saturday, April 17