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Category Archive: llangrannog
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An absolutely terrible surf today. While running I checked out the rolling swell — groundswell?! Really!? It looked about 2-3ft and while lumpy and not really lining up, it did have some clean, green faces.
I suited up as quickly as possible and headed down, but the wind had fucked it. In the space of an hour it went from decent to awful. The rip was hideous and I pulled something in my neck trying to get away from it; very sore now. The wind was a cross-shore howler and the peaks were a grey mess. So, so disappointing — this has been the worst summer I remember, after the worst winter I remember, and autumn (which I always so look forward to) is shaping up to be pants as well.
I am so hungry for some good waves, but with no car and no money I can’t even go down the road, let alone abroad! I have to stay off Facebook as my need to howl at people who have escaped to wave-rich places is so strong it’s scary.
Pass the ibuprofen…
Clywedais i Dafydd a Caryl ar BBC Radio Cymru y bore ‘ma yn siarad â Jon Meirion Jones, hanesydd lleol, am enwau strydoedd yn yr ardal Llangrannog. Roeddwn nhw’n sôn am Lôn Cati a Trecregin Villa, sy’n drws nesaf i fi, ac yn dweud bod e’n mor bwysig i gadw a defnyddio’r enwau Cymraeg. Dw i’n cytuno yn bendant! Wi wrth fy modd yn clywed am yr hanes yr ardal, a roedd diddordeb mewn enwau’r strydoedd a tâi rhan o’r rheswm penderfynais i ddysgu Cymraeg.
Pan adeiladodd fy rhieni ein tŷ ni yn yn y coeden yn y saithdegau, penderfynon nhw i alw’r le ‘Trecoed’ — dim ond un tŷ sy da ni, ond roeddwn nhw’n trial, beth bynnag!
Update: Darllenodd Dafydd a Caryl fy e-bost ma’s ar y radio y bore nesaf! Enwog!
Roedd Lochtyn yn edrych yn hardd y bore ‘ma am naw; ro’n i wrth fy modd yn rhedeg yn yr haul. Ro’n i’n ymdrechu lan i ben y bryn ac aeth cadno heibio yn y cae drws nesaf. Stopiodd e i edrych arna i, wedyn wyff, bant â fe. Anifail rhyfeddol, er gwaethaf ei archwaeth am y ieir lleol!
Es i yn y môr ddoe i syrffio; roedd popeth yn hyfryd ond tymheredd y dŵr — brrr! Felly ro’n i’n bach o ‘wuss’ heddiw — arhosais i ar y traeth gyda llyfr.
Yfory, bydda i’n gweithio, wedyn rhedeg, syrffio, bwyta, ymlacio a darllen ar y traeth, os ydy hi’n mor dwym unwaith eto!
The other day I found a big piece of green sea-glass, a big piece of white, a tiny sliver of yellow and this small blue corner. Who knows what the whole word was, but what remains on this lovely bit of blue is ‘vies’.vie
1. to strive in competition or rivalry with another; contend for superiority: Swimmers from many nations were vying for the title.
Origin: 1525–35; by aphesis
Middle French envier to raise the stake (at cards), Old French: to challenge, provoke, Latin invītāre to entertain, invite
1. compete, contest, struggle.
A pretty cool find! This one I’ll be keeping for myself, to remind me to try my hardest. I have a lot of goals which mean a lot of work — finishing my novel, writing more poetry, getting a lot better at Welsh, getting some things published via competitions and in writing journals and so on, keeping up with my fitness programme (and getting back into my skinniest jeans), and earning some serious money, goddamit!
Better get on with it then…
So of course I had to get in, even though it was really too windy. By the time I got out, I was thinking yes, I will give up for a couple of months now, this is no longer any fun! I caught sod all, just paddled against the rip and ducked icy grey water. The only thing going for it was that I wasn’t cold, and I can feel my fitness it better.
When I got out I could see that it wasn’t just me being crap, the waves were pretty blown out. Ho hum! At least I tried! A couple of months and things will ease up.
Been ill for a couple of days, nothing bad but with dizzy spells and super tired — I couldn’t read or write, argh! My head was not my own. I felt like like one of those dull, negative people who have little curiosity in life, who are always whingeing, always ill, never get off their backsides. (I know a few people who think life owes them something. It doesn’t; you have to put in to get out, then wow, watch out.)
Then I woke up this morning as the moon began to wane, and my head was clear again, just like that. So I went for a run in the sunshine and saw…waves, oh!
The storms razed the banks, then the last week of calm weather has seen a lot of the sand return. There’s a pool where the bank usually forms, and the waves are breaking further out. I didn’t catch anything at all, then it went flat and I gave up.
Around this time of year my surfing ability plummets totally, which is depressing, but it’s a beautiful day. And as I write there’s a wookpecker on the bird feeder — rare sight. I hope he’s not hungry because the boys have coppiced his favourite tree.
Back to my studies, and today I want to do loads of Welsh, because I was too dizzy to go to class on Tuesday. I have craving for cynghannedd…
I haven’t been surfing for weeks now. I can’t watch any online or I get irritated, and I’m so envious of those who are currently in warm, wavy places. It’s snowy here… The sea was as flat as I’ve ever seen it in winter yesterday, a half-foot peeler today. Not very happy.
To get surf fit I’ve been swimming and doing a bit of yoga, and to get my fix of the coast I’ve been walking the dogs as usual, but also running…ugh. I’ve hated it since school, as I suppose many people do. I had a big ginger screamer of a PE teacher who’d send us on sadistic cross-country runs and pop up shouting at the hardest points. The other PE teacher was a blonde the boys drooled over who could out-distance any of us and had a penchant for stretching her perfect legs in front of everyone. Shudder.
Running around here is a whole different matter, and if it gets results (i.e. fitting back into the pink Snugg wetty) then I’m all for it, even today when it was absolutely raw.
It’s all thanks to a book called Run Fat Bitch Run which my mother bought me (yes, charming) which demystifies and talks straight about running. None of that blocks of numbers (3 x 300m at 3/10, 4 x 200m at 7/10 etc.) and buying £100 shoes crap, just get out there and move your ass. It reads like my sister talks (blunt, no bullshit) and so far, it works. I’m not supposed to yap about it until I’m a few months in, but I’m a convert.
A video promoting Llangrannog as a tourist destination. Half in Welsh half in English. I’m on the front of Mickey’s boat ‘Lowri’ with Beechey at the helm! Fame at last…
Still been no surf…well, nothing I could stir myself into, for the uber keen only and that’s not quite me recently. The stormy weather has ripped the sand away from the beaches, so it looks like winter should. Here’s the seal rock on Cilborth; I think it looks like a hauled-out seal. It’s the first to appear as the sand retreats.
Mad rain going on, rivers full – here’s Penbryn looking wild.
I’m stuck in Crannog for Christmas due to the need for the vet and the car breaking down. So a nice quiet time, but no pressies! Never mind, happy the dog is okay…
There were some surfers around today, but I went home and did some writing, with a big Happy Christmas to Me gin and tonic.