Walking the coast path in North Pembrokeshire

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The June sun, already setting records for the hottest, blazed down on my back as I crunched over the rocky coast path. Whitesands Bay stretched behind me, a turquoise jewel framed by golden cliffs. Not a bad view, all things considered, especially considering the disaster that was to become today’s walk.

It started perfectly. Birdsong filled the air, the scent of wildflowers drifted on the breeze, and the map app on my phone, accurate as always. Then, right after passing those ancient hut circles, it went kaput. No map, no internet, just me and the increasingly confusing waymarkers.

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Abereiddi Bay, with it’s impossibly blue lagoon and cliff-jumping crowd, was a welcome mirage. But where were the usual vendors? No ice cream van, no burger bar, just an empty car park. The thirst settled in, a dry whisper at first, then a persistent hum. My map app decided to behave itself again, what else could go wrong?

Pushing on, Porthgain offered more history than hydration. 

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Slate quarries scarred the cliffs, a ruin that was a  loading factory, remnants of an industrial past, while the ruined Trefin Mill whispered tales of bygone toil.

Each cove brought a fresh hope for a shop, a cafe, anything with a liquid refreshment.

Porth this, Porth that, they blurred into a thirsty symphony of P-words.

Eventually, Abercastle, a tiny fishing village hidden in a cove, with it’s impressive burial chamber, “Carreg Sampson”.

It seemed to hold a promise of a can of pop, but nothing.

By the time I reached Abermawr and Aberbach, the late afternoon sun cast long shadows and my tongue felt like sandpaper. Three villages, countless coves, and not a single sip.

The geology lesson at Pwllcrochan, with it’s mind-bending rock formations, did little to quench my thirst.

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My legs, too, were starting to complain, each step a protest against the heat and the empty void in my stomach. Pwll Deri, Porth Maen Melyn, the names blurred past like silent pleas for water. You know it’s getting late when the moths start coming out.

And then, in the distance, a blink of salvation – Strumble Head Lighthouse, its white walls glowing in the sunset. Half an hour, that’s all it was. I practically ran, spurred on by the promise of liquid redemption. 

Reaching the car, I guzzled down two litres like a man possessed, the cool water flooding every parched cell.

I’d had enough this day, but still had to drive home, just to finish my day off nicely, the M4 was closed from Pontarddulais, the diversion went into Llanelli.

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Until the next time

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If you wish to see more on RDN by this contributor, search Jack_Walkaholic above.

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In 2015 an article appeared in the history journal Morgannwg on Friendly Societies in Neath and Mr David Michael of Neath Antiquarians was invited to speak on the topic to the History Society. Owing to work commitments, clashing dates and a pandemic, some nine years later Mr Michael made it, and it was well worth the wait. Since Mr Michael gave a glimpse of a movement once all pervading in its time but now largely forgotten or subsumed into the world of insurance.

During the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, sickness and welfare was largely absent save for the meagre Parish relief and the workhouse following the Poor Law Amendment Act of 1831. The workhouse split up families and a friendly society was a means to ensure that this did not happen. In order to combat this working men had come together to form friendly societies which would give relief in times of distress but also had a social function in that they were largely based on pubs. The societies had rituals reminiscent of the masonic lodges with joining ceremonies. In essence a joining fee of 10 shillings was followed by smaller weekly contributions in order to ensure relief. In the 1801 century Neath had a population of around 2,500 adults, though this trebled with the advent of industrialization as did the number of societies. Indeed there were 14 societies with a collective membership of 1,222, with the earliest tracing its roots to the Coal Miners Society of 1768. The largest and most prominent group were the Oddfellows, but other more exotic names such as “True Friends” abounded. The money was kept in a box with three keys, though a pub where part of your contribution was to provide the beer was hardly an ideal situation. Indeed some societies lodged their funds with the Gnoll Estate. The Ivorites were an exclusively Welsh friendly society and several societies had Welsh names such as “LLeision Nedd”, in Glynneath and “Iestyn ap Gwrgan”

Resolven was tiny at that time with a population of around 380. Yet it boasted four societies. The New Inn was the home of the Ynysfach Lodge of the Oddfellows in 1841. In 1844 the True Britons Lodge was established at what later became the Vaughans., and in 1862 the Church began its own friendly society which held its meetings at the Vaughans, another society was ensconced at the Gored. The Farmers or Ynysbipan Arms was home to the Foresters Lodge , a society which was more closely masonic in organization. Each society had its sashes, its ceremonies and banners. In return the publican did exceedingly well from the proceeds. The processions were not unlike those of the Whitsun marches of recent memory, and were usually accompanied by a brass band. These were illustrated by Mr Michael in his talk.

The Societies declined during the 20^th century as they became redundant as a welfare state tookover much of their role. The Peoples’ Budget of 1909, and the establishment of both an old age pension and national Insurance. The reforms of the Attlee government in 1945, and the provision of a National Health Service in 1948 made the notion of a self-help society redundant. The Oddfellows held their final annual meeting in Neath in 1980.

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Mr David Woosnam thanked Mr Michael for a memorable talk, and hoped members would take up his offer of a course with the Antiquarians in order to further explore the history of friendly societies in Resolven.

Trefor Jones

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Camera -aware blue tit feeding in Ruth Davies’s garrden yesterday

Ruth is keeping up the family tradition by giving us great shots for RDN– just like Michael her much missed Da,d.