Wandering Wales

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This morning it was raining as per the forecast. It’s never good when the weatherman uses words like Biblical and flooding. This was supposed to be fun, so I made a command decision that watching STNG and eating Cornish pastys out of a paper bag was more enjoyable than riding all day in the rain. The rain was supposedly going to taper off late in the afternoon, so I decided to go visit the home of Dylan Thomas nearby.

A bit of a bohemian, by many accounts, Thomas was a bum, a filcher and a drunkard. His only redeeming feature was his booming voice and his writing, and boy could he write. He apparently made an impression on the New York beatnic scene, so much so that rock stars appropriated his name. In 1953, after another drinking bout, he slipped into a coma and died. He was 39 years old.

While in the UK, he lived in the coastal village of Laugharne in a house overlooking as estuary where he wrote most of his poetry. After exploring his house and writing shed, I made my way back to Haverfordwest, taking the backroads as much as I could.

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Photos

Grave
Dylan Thomas' grave marker in the churchyard in the village of Laugharne.

Workshop
A darkened view of Dylan Thomas' writing shed overlooking the estuary.

Estuary
A rainy day view of the estuary from Thomas' writing shed.

Laugharne Castle
Laugharne Castle built by the Normans.

Soggy Afternoon
Making my way soggily back to Haverfordwest.