Weekend recap 2: Swansea

Swansea

My roommate and I got up early on Sunday to get to Swansea at a decent hour. Our destination was Rhosili, a beautiful beach an Assembly Member had pointed me toward. By the time we got there, however, we would have gotten to the beach at dark and not been able to catch a bus back.

Stepping out of the train station, we were greeted by closed or empty businesses, and a single coffee house that exuded an air of depression. We went in and ordered tea, which was served weak and in dirty cups. When we saw the woman behind the counter sneeze on to her hands and begin serving food, we left in a hurry, but not before I jotted down a poem about the experience:

A pharmacy dragged me here,
barely.
Here, this shabby restaurant
with grimy teacups
and gnarled fingers.
Numb customers, staring into
the hardness of the world,
are as gray as the sky,
dirt-lined as
the plates before them,
tasteless as the food,
and distant as the beaches
the guidebooks promised.

Walking through the sprawling city that seemed an odd mixture of sleaze and class, we found a bus to Mumbles, a little beach near the heart of Swansea.

As we walked along the water, I felt the fullness of the ocean, the calm of the tides. As it began to rain, we took cover in a little restaurant on the pier.

When the rain faded to a drizzle and then to a memory, we walked to Mumbles Pier and paid the 50 pence to walk on rickety boards out to the sea. Boards with holes for faces and plastic animals with "Mumbles Pier" signs lined the sides. Fishermen cast weary glances at us.
Soon, we left the creaking boards behind and climbed up a path leading to a look-out point. From the look-out point, we could see a great beach of round stones, and it took some clever rock climbing to make our way down.

We gallivanted on the beach while the sun set, watching the waves and sifting through the rocks. I found a few shells and rocks to bring home.
Then, we walked up to Oystermouth Castle, which was closed. Not one to give up so easily, I walked around the ruins, finding a hole into the castle. My roommate didn't like the looks of it, though, so I left it alone and we meandered home.
The sea has been on my mind since. What is it about the water that leaves me feeling more myself?