If you’d have asked me the day before we left, I’d have said no.
Our camper’s gearbox had definitely broken. And as chief engine fixer, know-er of every inch of our holiday-on-wheels, he was putting off the inevitable. To order almost non-existent compatible parts from far-flung areas of the world. To crawl under the van in all weathers, to get covered in three inches of engine oil to make our family trip happen.
It was like mother nature had pulled out all the stops with her August Moon nights, as we sat huddled around beach fires looking out to sea.
So when we arrived at camp, on a wild and beautiful stretch of the Pembrokeshire coastline in West Wales, it made all the adventure in getting there worth while. From getting up close to a resident cormorant in the same spot each evening, to walking both east and west along the headland and finding ancient Welsh treasures along the way.
This part of the world is a well-trodden and special pathway for us. And I honestly feel that when events come along and challenge a familiar way we do things, just sometimes it makes us open our eyes that little bit wider to the beautiful elements right there, all along.
“The sea does not reward those who are too anxious, too greedy, or too impatient. To dig for treasures shows not only impatience and greed, but lack of faith. Patience, patience, patience, is what the sea teaches. Patience and faith. One should lie empty, open, choiceless as a beach—waiting for a gift from the sea.” Anne Morrow Lindbergh, from A Gift from the Sea.