As always, you get my holiday news with a time lag but here is the start of our Irish adventures.

Day 1

Things were not looking good as yesterday the sat nav decided it would wipe itself clean instead of updating and we only have a small scale maps of Ireland, so the prospect of getting from a to b was looking challenging. After an hour with the ‘not actually any help’ guy, whose main aim seemed to be to claim we needed to buy extremely expensive anti-virus software, the sat nav did at least turn on and recognise where we were. We decided we were safe to head to Pembroke (or possibly somewhere else if the sat nav wasn’t actually working). Despite a very convoluted diversion on the link road, the journey was uneventful. We realised that Irish speed limits are probably going to be in kilometres. Chris’ car speedo is in miles only. We envisaged plenty of dividing by eight and multiplying by five, or is it the other way round?

Once in Wales, I attempted to translate some of the bilingual signs, on the strength of my knowledge of Cornish, which can be similar. We arrived at our overnight stop, a very peaceful, small site, with a friendly owner and the bonus of wifi. It seemed odd to have nothing to do. I have resolved to put house not-moving to the back of my mind and rejoice in the fact that my paperwork is pretty well up to date, so there won’t be much work I have to do while I’m away. It will be very unusual to have a trip with no family history element, although my dad was stationed in Ireland in the war, so I may just take a look at where he was billeted.

On the advice of the site owner, we ate at the nearby Carew Inn before battening down the hatches for the night.

Day 2

As the ferry was not until mid-afternoon we decided to make a quick bonus visit to nearby Carew Castle. The persistent drizzle wasn’t particularly conducive to ruined castle exploration but we managed a good look round. We did pass on moving on to the tidal mill, as that was a ten minute soggy walk away. The current mill is thought to date from the early C19th, although there was a mill on the river in the sixteenth century.

Carew Castle was built in wood on the site of an Iron Age fortification at the end of the C11th by Gerald de Windsor, constable of Pembroke Castle, who wanted an additional fortification further up the river. He made a dynastic marriage to Princess Nest. Nest was abducted in an ambush by Prince Owain who she lived with for several years before returning to Gerald. Gerald escaped capture because he was in the garderobe.

The stone castle was largely the work of Nicholas de Carew who died in 1311. C15th additions were made by Sir Rhys ap Thomas. He was a favourite of Henry VII, after aiding him at Bosworth and it is said that it was Rhys who killed Richard III. Rhys was made a Knight of the Garter and held a massive tournament and five day feast in 1507 to celebrate. Sir Roland Rhys was allegedly killed by his pet ape, which is said to haunt the castle.

Finally, the castle was developed into an Elizabethan manor house by Sir John Perrot. Perrot’s role was to clamp down on piracy and smuggling but he ended up becoming involved himself.  During the Civil War, Royalist Sir George Carew owned the castle and it changed hands several times during the conflict. The castle and mill are now administered by the Pembrokeshire Coast National Park authority.

There was supposed to be signs of a Nine Men’s Morris Board carved on the wall in the chapel. The theory was that if the devil came in the window he would be distracted by playing the game, rather than entering the chapel. I am not convinced that the faint line that I spotted was it. We learned of the legend of the giant, Skomar Oddy, who lived in the Preseli Hills and rescued sea creatures in the Daugleddau Estuary from sea monsters. It is said that the giant’s footsteps formed the nearby inlets and beaches. The castle is designated as a Site of Special Scientific Interest because of various wild flowers and also because it is inhabited by bats. In order to keep dry, we watched a horrible histories style presentation about the castle’s worst jobs. It was a shame the enthusiastic staff didn’t have a larger audience.

We headed off for the ferry in good time, as is our wont and just as well, as it took half an hour to travel the final two miles to the dock. A quick search of the van and boot by customs and we were on board. Despite being used to ferry crossings, this one was very boring. The limited free wifi didn’t seem to materialise. Even the progressively drunken students, making liberal use of the duty free, didn’t offer much by way of entertainment value. We did break the monotony by having an early evening meal on board. Good job we made it early, as the catering shut up shop a good hour before the ferry docked.

Another realisation whilst on board. Although somehow going to Ireland doesn’t seem like really ‘abroad’, it is. For the first time it dawned on us that we will probably need European plugs, not so much for our appliances as the caravan has conventional sockets but in order to connect the caravan to the electricity supply, we may need an adaptor. Chris has one of these, hurrah. Unfortunately it is at home in one of his many garages.

We made our way to St Margaret’s Beach campsite, just a few miles from the ferry terminal. It is a very pleasant small site with a mixture of static and touring vans. We had a warm welcome and even better, our electricity cable was compatible with the socket provided.