Let’s move to the north Pembrokeshire coast: a place to escape the universe’s ills

Pretty, alluring and a tad quieter than the southern shores, this is an illustrious stretch of coastline

What’s going for it? It’s that time of the year when I fantasise about an escape plan, especially in the current geopolitical climate. Maybe I could move to Hokkaido and train in kintsugi. No, too clumsy of hand and, you know, kind of far. OK, maybe I could move to Brittany and open a B&B. Remember your former “career” in hospitality, Tom, pulling disastrous pints at the local? Best forgotten, eh? Or maybe I could move to the north Pembrokeshire coast and, well, do anything, really. I’d be happy as Larry employed in whatever you threw at me anywhere from St David’s Head to Cemaes Head, so long as I had a brisk walk and a pint in the Golden Lion to look forward to. It’s an illustrious stretch of coastline: a little less visited than the southern coast, but just as alluring, as if purpose-built for gannet-spotting, rugged strolls along knobbly cliffs and discovering sandy coves untouched by human toes. It’s a prime spot for escaping the ills of the universe. Personally, on my days off, I’d roam the Preseli hilltops and study the Neolithic dolmen scattered hereabouts. Who knows, one day I might open that B&B, with a kintsugi school attached.

The case against Getting around may be problematic. Jobs are often seasonal. Hotspots, such as Newport, are crowded in summer.

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Let’s move to the north Pembrokeshire coast: a place to escape the universe’s ills

Pretty, alluring and a tad quieter than the southern shores, this is an illustrious stretch of coastline

What’s going for it? It’s that time of the year when I fantasise about an escape plan, especially in the current geopolitical climate. Maybe I could move to Hokkaido and train in kintsugi. No, too clumsy of hand and, you know, kind of far. OK, maybe I could move to Brittany and open a B&B. Remember your former “career” in hospitality, Tom, pulling disastrous pints at the local? Best forgotten, eh? Or maybe I could move to the north Pembrokeshire coast and, well, do anything, really. I’d be happy as Larry employed in whatever you threw at me anywhere from St David’s Head to Cemaes Head, so long as I had a brisk walk and a pint in the Golden Lion to look forward to. It’s an illustrious stretch of coastline: a little less visited than the southern coast, but just as alluring, as if purpose-built for gannet-spotting, rugged strolls along knobbly cliffs and discovering sandy coves untouched by human toes. It’s a prime spot for escaping the ills of the universe. Personally, on my days off, I’d roam the Preseli hilltops and study the Neolithic dolmen scattered hereabouts. Who knows, one day I might open that B&B, with a kintsugi school attached.

The case against Getting around may be problematic. Jobs are often seasonal. Hotspots, such as Newport, are crowded in summer.

Continue reading...

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Inside four South African homes to rival the Love Island villa

Are they your type on paper?

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London asking rents hit new record average amid ongoing stock deficit

Read the full story, here.

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Homes with an unusual roof – in pictures

There’s no shortage of character at these five properties, from oast houses to castles

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Country diary: sunny 'choirboys' push their ruffs out of the leaf litter

Allendale, Northumberland: Winter aconites, out before even the snowdrops, pop up in unexpected places

Since early January, their sulphur yellow buds have been tightly closed, holding promise in their gently pointed, six-petalled domes. A song thrush has flicked through the leaf litter around them, casting wary backwards glances. A stoat has skipped along beneath the sycamore branches. Mornings have been frosty or damp or flecked with snow.

Now, in a blaze of unfolding, their petals (technically sepals) have opened to the sun and each flowerhead seems to have doubled in size. Winter aconites, out before even the snowdrops, they have pushed aside the decaying leaves of the woodland border to pop up in unexpected places, among lungworts, under hellebores, between box hedge and path, with exuberant freedom.

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Country diary: sunny 'choirboys' push their ruffs out of the leaf litter

Allendale, Northumberland: Winter aconites, out before even the snowdrops, pop up in unexpected places

Since early January, their sulphur yellow buds have been tightly closed, holding promise in their gently pointed, six-petalled domes. A song thrush has flicked through the leaf litter around them, casting wary backwards glances. A stoat has skipped along beneath the sycamore branches. Mornings have been frosty or damp or flecked with snow.

Now, in a blaze of unfolding, their petals (technically sepals) have opened to the sun and each flowerhead seems to have doubled in size. Winter aconites, out before even the snowdrops, they have pushed aside the decaying leaves of the woodland border to pop up in unexpected places, among lungworts, under hellebores, between box hedge and path, with exuberant freedom.

Continue reading...

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