Porth Dafarch is the inspiration for the latest story I’m writing. It doesn’t have a title yet. Porth Dafarch has always been a facinating place for me. I spent hours here as a kid staring out at the sea. The weather could change in minutes, bringing in sea fogs or driving rain. Even the name is shrouded in mystery. No one knows why this peaceful, tucked away cove is known as Porth Dafarch. It has its secrets. There is a tumble-down stone customs house and iron chains once stretched across the bay. There is a cave tucked away beneath the headland. There are ancient stone huts just above the beach. Religious groups have met here and symbols have been carved in the headland turf.
Beyond Porth Dafarch there is nothing but sea until Ireland. For the ancient Britons it must have felt as though they were treading at the edge of the world. One morning, just over a hundred years ago, my great grandmother was walking along this beach when she made a discovery. This is the root of my story…….. More soon, including the main characters Elijah and Florence.