In fact, while I generally resent it. And I love it. Mostly resent it.
It’s a high-volume tourist destination, and if you live here it means complications with finding work in the winter, time off during the summer, and no chance of finding anywhere quiet. I’ve spent so much time resenting it that I completely forgot just why on Earth it is that everyone flocks here.
Yesterday we went to scatter my grandmother’s ashes into the bay. It was the first time I’d been on a sailboat in some twenty years. As we climbed aboard, basked in the sun at the tug of the slight wind I realized just what it was that brought people from all over the country.
We sailed along the general race coast route, past the buoy, around Half-Tide Rocks (where curious seals watched us from their rumbling wave tops) and toward the eastern of te to St. Tudwal’s Islands.
I hear tell that the island pictured here, you can wander around on. There is a path that goes from the shore up to the cabin. The other island, the western island, is owned by Bear Grills, and is private. However, it’s the more photographed due to its beautiful lighthouse. Because it’s so well photographed, I just didn’t even bother.
From our sport in the bay, we could almost turn a full 360 degrees and see Wales. The coast carried down to Pwllheli, Porthmadog, and onto Harlech, all at the feet of the Snodonia mountains.
We made out way back and stopped into he yacht club–not somewhere I’m a member of, nor do I enjoy going to. But, on a day such as yesterday, I honestly considered buying a membership simply for the view (it should be noted that my more sober mind this morning scolded my last night self for such thoughts).