The weather forecast insists it will be 19 degrees and cloudy. We dress accordingly and set off for Weobley Castle. Oddly the sat nav thinks this is in two different places about half a mile apart and although I am enjoying following along on my OS map, it is hard to see where the entrance might be. Inevitably, we have opted for the wrong sat nav possibility and here we are in a farm. Destination recalculated and we arrive. There are some lovely views but to be frank, the possibilities for exploration here are a little limited. My travelling companion is fascinated by the remote lawn mower and is blocking it’s path with abandoned short scaffolding poles to confuse it. It would be harsh to say that this was the most interesting part of the visit and there is some historical information imparted, which I share with you now, with the usual proviso that this is what I gleaned and I can’t vouch for its accuracy. Regarded as a fortified manor, part of a series of Norman castles on the Gower peninsula, Weobley was described as  ‘new’ castle in 1306, when it was held by the del la Bere family. A century later during a revolt on the Gower as a result of Owain Glyndŵr’s activities, Weobley suffered damage; the Welsh claimed to have ‘destroyed’ it. By the late fifteenth century, it was in the hands of Sir Rhys ap Thomas, who had been granted the overlordship of several castle as a result of his support for Henry VII during Henry’s efforts to claim the English throne. He instituted many improvements but the castle reverted to the crown when Rhys’ grandson was executed for treason under Henry VIII. It was then leased out as a farmhouse. In 1666, it was bought by Sir Edward Mansel and then passed to the Talbot family, being given into state ownership in 1911.

Weobley Castle’s possibilities exhausted, we decide to explore the south coast of the Gower and wonder if we can also take in Oxwich Castle. We can’t, it is shut. By this time the temperature has risen to the mid-twenties, the sun is beating down, we are ‘cosy’ and fairly in need of a drink and more urgently some ‘facilities’. Oxwich itself is heaving, with queues to get in the car park. We decide to try nearby Horton. All the coastal villages round here are approached via twisty, single-track roads, with occasional passing places. We are used to this. Not so other road users who clearly think their Nissan Micra is the width of a pantechnicon and has no reverse gear. Horton is equally lacking in options. Plan c is Porth Eynon. Car park located and himself heads off to pay for the parking ticket. This is always a technological challenge, involving reading things without the aid of reading glasses and potentially downloading apps. Ah no! This machine takes real money. The snag is that it doesn’t provide the necessary ticket in exchange. Never fear it takes cards. Having thus paid twice to park and ‘facilities’ availed of, we eat an ice cream and look at the beach. Our verdict on both – all very lovely but not a patch on what is 400 yards from my home. The drive back to the van is scenic, especially the road through Reynoldston. On the way, we pass a Harvester restaurant that would have been considerably more convenient than our Friday choice. Annoying that that eluded me when I asked Google for the nearest one to Llanelli. This is followed by another restful afternoon back on site, watching the swallows feeding their babies on the wing.