To Fishguard…and Beyond!

This weekend, effectively gate-crashing a romantic getaway for my good friend Sam Steak Davis and his delightful girlfriend Rosie, the Guild descended upon Pembroke in Wales with the intention of going deep water soloing.

For the confused amoungst you;

Deep-water soloing (DWS) is a form of solo rock climbing, practiced on sea cliffs at high tide that relies solely upon the presence of water at the base of a climb to protect against injury from falling from the high and difficulty routes.

Luckily we are very sensible young men…

Will Gamester as The Siren

Email me for prints of this photograph. Now, onto the weekend…

On Friday evening, Simon, Will and I bundled into a Citroen C1 and drove 250 miles towards Fishguard in Wales (where they protect the lands from The Threat From The Sea) to a campsite owned by the single friendliest and most helpful man we may have ever met, Ian of Celtic Camping.

There we set up our tents. Or…we tried. Unfortunately, all this lovely weather has dried up the ground and made it like iron. No matter how we stabbed, kicked and battered our tent pegs, they simply wouldn’t bury themselves in firmly in the dirt.

Eventually, we gave up and drank beer instead.

The next day, we awoke to this:

Collapsed Tent

Luckily for me, that was Will and Simon’s tent – I was next door in my adventure tent overlooking the sea!

Vango Banshee 200 Tent

After a fine cooked breakfast at Whitebeach, we went swimming in the sea, played frisbee on the beach and climbed a rocky knoll overlooking the bay.

Then it was off in search of the cliffs to climb! Alas, although we found the right area, we struggled to find the exact spot where people go DWS. By the time high-tide arrived (necessary for safety), we resorted to swimming around the coast instead and finding our own private bay.

We still managed to scramble around some cliffs, but it wasn’t what we were hoping for. We decided to try again the next day.

That evening, we gathered around the campfire for meat and ale. When darkness finally fell, Simon and I headed out to another knoll, where we drank a bottle of rum and boasted of our mighty deeds to the nearly full moon.

Having given up on the tent, Will and Simon then wrapped up in sleeping bags and slept under the stars.


About the Author
Ed Gamester is a silly man who lives in the United Kingdom. He is the harbinger of Ghost Squad, singer of Gay Bum and author of A Rum Run Awry. He fights, kills and dies for TV and films, and gallivants around the place wrestling, drinking and lifting things for glory and profit. Where Ed treads, there stamp the boots of the Guild. Ed does not wear glasses, but feels this photograph makes him look more intelligent and artistically talented than he is. Feel free to contact him: he is disappointingly affable.

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