An unexpected beach day during a heat wave reminded writer Moira Wyton how fun it is when trips not only stimulate you intellectually but also replenish you physically.Moira Wyton/The Globe and Mail
The sand baking me through my towel was a clear sign I needed to take a dip in Carmarthen Bay sooner rather than later. But just as I raised my head to look for a trustworthy person to watch over my things, a loud pop pierced the sweltering afternoon, startling me and all the other beachgoers wilting nearby.
A child’s soccer ball roasting on the blanket next to me had burst at a seam, its pink inner layer blown out into a bubble like a piece of chewing gum. My eyes met my neighbour’s over the source of the scare and we both laughed in relief – and disbelief at just how blistering the May afternoon had become in Wales.
I had taken WestJet’s inaugural non-stop flight from Toronto to Cardiff with a certain kind of moody trip in mind: Cloudy hikes along jagged cliffs and up to castle ruins, rainy strolls along colourful high streets and cozy pub dinners after museum visits would provide the storybook charm that draws literature and history aficionados like me here in droves.
Caerphilly Castle in Wales.Moira Wyton/The Globe and Mail
Sure enough, I found plenty of exactly this everywhere I went. The ruins of medieval castles (more than 600 in total) and sheep (something like nine million) dotted the rolling green hills straight out of my most pastoral imagination. At St. Fagan’s National Museum of History outside of Cardiff, restored stone cottages, town houses and vine-covered garden walls beckoned me to take a peek into the portraits of everyday Welsh life through the centuries. As we drove around Wales’s southern coast and back through the country’s heart, twisty country lanes turned fellow travellers into careful dance partners as we passed each other with only inches to spare.
In St. David’s, Britain’s smallest city, I hustled through the cobblestone paths to reach the eponymous cathedral built upon the site of a 6th-century monastery, where the sunset flooded the skies with the sort of soft light I hardly thought existed outside of paintings. And on our only torrential afternoon farther up the coast in medieval Cardigan, I had to don mine under a rain jacket just to make it across River Teifi for a peaceful cider as I watched the storm on the water with a book in hand.
At St. Fagan’s National Museum of History, restored stone cottages, town houses and vine-covered garden walls beckoned writer Moira Wyton to take a peek into the portraits of everyday Welsh life through the centuries.Crown Copyright/Supplied
But to my delight (tempered with climate unease), a historic heat wave created the perfect twist in my visit: an unexpected beach day in Pembrokeshire county. Floating in the cool water in the town of Tenby was a balm in the sweltering heat – and for my assumption that one destination couldn’t nourish both my body and my curious mind. The castle and colourful seaside town, built behind 13th-century medieval walls, overlooked the five kilometres of soft-sand beaches. Swimming in the calm waves and floating on my back in the harbour below, I hadn’t felt so relaxed in a long time. It reminded me how fun it is when trips not only stimulate you intellectually but also replenish you physically.
And there was no shortage of distinct pleasures to choose from. After a few hours and a rhubarb custard ice cream in postcard-perfect Tenby, we wound our way around the coast and deep into Pembrokeshire for a predinner dip at Whitesands Bay. The wind whipped up massive waves that drew surfers and boogie-boarders out into the brisk, exposed waters, which reminded me of the rugged beaches near Tofino.
I walked seemingly halfway to Ireland on the gradually sloping sand, then dove in for a few strokes against the approaching tide. Letting the swell chill me and toss me around was invigorating, and the saltwater dried quickly in the sun afterward as I climbed up a nearby stretch of the Wales Coast trail. From the distance of a higher vantage point, I could appreciate the full scale of the rocky coast’s beauty and power. The next day, after a quick wade in Mwnt farther north on the Cardiganshire coast, storm clouds rolled in and chased me back up the cliff stairs, giving me another look just a little too close for comfort.
View from Carreg Cennen Castle in Carmarthenshire.Moira Wyton/The Globe and Mail
There is an untranslatable Welsh word, hiraeth, that English describes as an intense homesickness. The true meaning, as non-speakers can understand, is a profound longing for one’s homeland that makes you feel like something foundational in you is missing. After a week around southern and mid-Wales, it was clear why they needed such a strong term.
Many Welsh writers have tried to put the country’s power and allure into words, but Wales’s rich storytelling tradition isn’t confined to its greats.
At Dylan Thomas’s boathouse in Laugharne, I chatted with manager Toby Nottage. As we talked about the author and poet’s early influences, he mentioned Thomas’s granddaughter had dropped by earlier that day. During our walk to Thomas’s writing studio overlooking the River Taf’s estuary and back through town, I came to understand that Thomas’s life and work were not just a history Nottage was proud to share but a living part of this community.
Dylan Thomas’s writing studio.Moira Wyton/The Globe and Mail
I felt invited to step into Wales’s stories everywhere I went, but the hospitality in the tranquil heart of the Cambrian Mountains went beyond the country’s characteristically warm welcomes. At the rustic boutique Elan Valley Hotel in Rhayader, owners Rachel and Lyn Morgan ran the show with a surprisingly small staff, escorting me to my corner room overlooking herds of sheep on the mountains, pouring aperitifs to take to the garden and serving up dinner in the cozy dining room with sincere humour and some kind teasing. Not usually a lamb fan, I had vowed to eat it at least once on the trip, and I’m so glad I waited for chef Ben Lewis’s tender slow-roasted lamb shoulder, which I’m sure nothing else could have topped. The unfussy meal and boisterous fireside conversation, just like my trip to Wales, were nourishing in more ways than one.
If you go
WestJet flies non-stop from Toronto to Cardiff four times a week until Sept 19. (The service begins again in May, 2027.)
For a Pembrokeshire vacation without the packed seaside, book the Grove Hotel just outside the town of Narberth. A 17th-century home on pastoral grounds offers an intimate spot of luxury less than a 25-minute drive from Tenby and the beach. Rates start at approximately $571 a night (£303) in the summer, depending on the room. And for a warm welcome after a day of outdoor adventuring in the heart of Wales, the cozy Elan Valley Hotel in Rhayader offers chic and simple lodgings starting at approximately $302 a night (£160), depending on the room.
A Loving Welsh Food walking tour, $99 a person (£53), helped me get my culinary and historic bearings in Cardiff, and isn’t complete without a spot of local cheese at Tŷ Caws or a spiced national treat warm off the griddle at Fabulous Welshcakes. Delicious Welsh rarebits are everywhere, but the savoury and misleadingly vegetarian Glamorgan sausage toastie at Crwst bakery in Cardigan stole the show for me.
The writer was a guest of Visit Britain and Visit Wales, which did not review or approve this article. Stories are based on merit; The Globe does not guarantee coverage.








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