Finding Community in Rural Wales
It takes a village - they were right about that
Since transitioning to a life that’s constantly on the move, the last thing I expected to find was community. In truth, it has been very hard being uprooted from friends and a neighbourhood you know like the back of your hand. Having only your partner to rely on - although we love each other dearly - can often feel a tad claustrophobic.
The people we’ve met on our housesitting journey, have been incredible. Welcoming, warm and most now long-distance friends for life. But one stay, in particular, has left a lasting impression on our hearts.
When trawling through our housesitting app feed for new places to stay, my partner struck gold - shouting from the other room, “Listen to this babe, coastal views, perfect for a writer.” I peeked my head around the doorframe, “I’m listening….” “Two cats, a whole month, near Dale in Wales.”
Dale… I’d never heard of it. He showed me the pictures, we Googled the area and…
Dalé.
We applied, bagged the sit and drove the almost seven-hour trip from Hampshire to South West Wales.
The destination: Marloes, population 330, is a sleepy village with 365-degree coastal views nestled in rolling countryside - akin to something from a J.R.R. Tolkien novel.
We were greeted with a typical Welsh welcome: incessant rain for 48 hours. But when the clouds lifted, the real experiences started to happen. We walked for miles on unspoilt paths, had beaches all to ourselves, and were surrounded by a buzz of wildlife that never seemed to sleep. In the days that followed, the weather was pristine and you wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else in the world.
My partner (a musician) had heard local musos lived nearby, and after befriending our new next-door neighbour, got an invite to the next open-mic night. He had the punters singing along to Men at Work and Brown Eyed Girl and jammed to sea shanties with tin-whistling locals all night.
He scored himself a solo gig the following week and the village came out to support. We all nattered over Guinness’ until midnight, and just as we were about to leave, a bloke ran in from the beer garden with a fag hanging out his mouth, shouting in a thick-Welsh drawl, “Get out ‘ere, the bloody Northern lights are out!” We discarded our pints and ran out with the same enthusiasm of kids seeing the first snow of winter. We gazed up at the sky, huddled together - because in the excitement we forgot our coats. It took a few minutes for our eyes to acclimate to the darkness, but as if by magic, there they were. Shards of pink, green and purple, danced in the sky. We couldn’t believe it.
Some left to wake up their kids and some cursed the fact that they’d spent thousands on trips to Iceland and didn’t see them - yet here we stood, watching them in a pub garden in the back end of Wales.
Nuts.
We laughed, we cried and we felt ourselves starting to verge towards hypothermic. So, after 30 minutes, we sauntered back inside arm in arm, for one final pint and debrief over what the hell just happened.
A few days prior, a local marine biologist invited us to a BBQ. I apologised in advance, awkwardly telling her I’m a vegetarian but that I’d bring my own Linda McCartney sausages. To my delight, she replied, “We’re all veggies here!” We spent the evening in her greenhouse, swapping stories of our travels and our favourite albums until dark.
What made the village so unique, was that everyone was completely different to one another. All from different walks of life, different origins and different ages, yet never did it feel divided.
In 2024, we need community more than ever and I fear we are slowly losing it as societies become more insular due to political, socio-economic and belief contrasts. In Marloes, there was no talk of political parties or how we voted in Brexit, just what united us under two common themes: our love of the outdoors and a tipple at the pub.
This may be an unpopular opinion: but I don’t think we always need to agree. In fact, opposing views are necessary to progress, to solving problems and to challenging and broadening ideas.
We can all still get along, all while holding different views.
A community can come in all different shapes and sizes - but we must be part of one. With loneliness being the number one reducer in life expectancy, it’s detrimental to our health if we are not.
Community is also knowledge. Our visit to Pembrokeshire wouldn’t have been half as magnificent had it not been for the locals advising us where to go for the real experience.
The owner whose home and cats we looked after, put us onto the app KOMOOT. I might be late to the party on this one, but if you’re a keen walker/runner download it immediately! It’s a fantastic community-based app full of routes mapped out by individuals out on adventures. We used a handful on our visit, following (quite literally) in other people’s footsteps. Knowing someone had taken this route before and stopped to take in the same awe-inspiring views as we were - is quite special really, isn’t it?
If you’re lacking in community right now, I hope this letter sparks inspiration for you to seek it out. It’s my hope that A Life Well Loved will serve as a place of community - so, know you have found one here on the interwebby with your fellow romantics - and my DM’s are always open for a chat.
3 Things to Do in Pembrokeshire
1. Swimming at St. Brides
We did this almost every day, it was our favourite place in the area. At high tide, this quaint little bay comes to life, crystal clear blue waters are teaming with wildlife and sea flora - bring a mask and snorkel to see it and a wet suit if you don’t fair well with cold water.
2. Martin’s Haven
Walk one of many scenic coastal routes, or (my advice) go at sunset. Pick up a pizza at Camille’s (open Thurs-Sun) en route, park at the National Trust car park (free after dusk) and watch the sun dip behind Skomer Island. We had the place entirely to ourselves and it was magic.
3. Beach hop and hike
Park at Bosherton’s Lily Ponds National Trust car park and follow the marked pathway through Broad Haven South and Barafundle Beach. Through sand dunes and over rugged coastline, it’s an epic walk. Before continuing the loop back towards your starting point at Bosherton, stop at The Stackpole Inn for a well-deserved pint and plate of locally sourced award-winning grub.
The Day I Started Seeing Swallows
“I’ve never felt a spiritual kinship towards birds. Some claim to see their mother in the spirit of a robin or a sparrow. And while their company I treasure and their songs I listen to intently — I have never looked at one and thought: crikey, I think that heron is my Grandad! But, all that changed when I met my current partner.”
I wrote a piece on how we’ve been visited by swallows everywhere we travel - seriously - it’s freaky. You can read it here.
Psst… For anyone wishing to taste-test lifestyles, houses, and locations, forget Airbnb - take up a housesit for a weekend to truly immerse yourself in a place. Here’s 25% off an annual subscription at Trusted Housesitters - the site I use to book all my sits. Use code: HANNAH25 at checkout.
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I love this Hannah 😊. What a fabulous experience for you both 🏴❤️. Definitely somewhere Dad and I will visit one day. X
This has made me want to visit Pembrokeshire asap!