I had a few days free a couple of weeks ago, so I packed up and went to west Wales to do some proper camping and exploring.
Cardigan was just a few miles away, so I popped into Howies.
Howies is a very smooth brand turning out some rather special clothing – their marketing is world renowned and I always look forward to their catalogues, emails or any other ‘little something’ they may send to amuse me into purchasing. Timberland acquired a chunk of them last year, but all the fears of what damage a nasty megabrand could do to them dissolved into nothing. They are still the same, but with a few more quid behind them, which is good for all involved I suppose.
I left quite a few £’s lighter with an Epic cotton waterproof jacket and a shirt I like so much I might frame it.
BTW, my favourite ever tee shirt is a ‘Howies’ and I am going to wear it until it falls to bits.
On to Boncath
I stayed at Rhydhowell Farm campsite, just outside the small village of Boncath (pronounced 'Bonkers' with a lisp) for my three nights in Pembs. I found it via the Campfires Burning website and when I emailed the chap who owns the farm and asked him if it was OK to cook on an open fire, he replied with “How else would you cook when camping!” I booked immediately.

The farm is run by John Quinn, and Englishman farming in the heart of rural Wales and a true gentleman. He has a beautiful property, dating back to the 1790’s, but he has been resident for the past 35 years. The farm is over seventy acres with a large percentage of it a stunning semi ancient wooded valley that would have the bushcraft boys sharpening their Mora’s in anticipation (don’t worry, he has plans for you!) John has set a path through the woods that makes it accessible to most who can handle a gentle stroll – he gave me a guided tour with his sheepdog Sally at his side.
The campsite is very basic, with a loo that I couldn’t use (I’m an arachnophobe) and an old static caravan that contains a sink for washing up, a decent WC and a hot shower. He has piped water into the various fields that he has set aside for campers and has fire pans dotted around for his campers to use.
I stayed in one of his ‘hideaway’ pitches – small enclosures set aside for a more private camping experience. The pitch had a fine group of Douglas Firs at one end and enough room for several tents. Sadly, the firs were just too far apart for me to hang my Clarke Jungle Hammock – a night in that will have to wait just a bit longer.
Rhydhowell is one of those sites that when you find it, you want to keep it a secret. But that wouldn’t be fair to John, who is trying his best to make a simple but beautiful campsite for those that would rather have a more natural camping experience.
Just don’t tell anyone else.
I set up the Bison Lavvu, got comfy (and I mean comfy – lots of luxuries come with me when car camping – a real bed, a fridge, rugs, chair and a gas cooker with a grill) and settled down to cook ratatouille over the fire and slug a bottle of wine while watching the flames flickering.
It was a very cold night due to the crystal clear skies and my RayWay quilt struggled to keep me warm, but l also bought my down backpacking quilt just in case. Had a damned good nights sleep.
Labels: Adventures, Big camping, Cooking, Wales