Caldey Island is one of the Holy Isles of Britain. The official history books say there have been monks on the island since the 6th century, but there is a little sign in the monks' garden that says there are signs of Celtic monastics on the island going back to the third century. The heavenly odor of sanctity comes off the rocks there.
Plus, there are ducks.
You start in Tenby, on the pier, paying a rather hefty ten quid for a return ticket in the open boat. There is a Royal Mail boat that goes out early enough to get you to the monks' daily Mass, but no one wants to get up that early on holiday.
Us,
all our stuff
plus about thirty-eight other passengers, and all their picnic stuff.
leaving Tenby, Wales, and this world, to go Somewhere Else
St. Catherine's Island and Castle hill from the other side
The first thing you see is this, completely serene and empty beach
where the only thing to do is swim in the stupidly cold water, and then dig a really big hole in the sand.
Me in my bathing costume (and cardie, of course), giving a show to the Tenby binoculars-gazers on the other side of the straight.
Julie insisted on getting in
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