The Gower Peninsula is how I imagine Cornwall was 30 or 40 years ago before it was discovered and turned into an endless round of surf shops, nightclubs and tea rooms. That it has not ended up as commercialised as Cornwall can be attributed to a number of factors. Firstly, and perhaps most importantly, the Gower (Gŵyr) was designated Britain’s first AONB (Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty) by the National Trust in 1956. Currently around 11% of the area of the Gower is owned and protected by the National Trust. Secondly, the Gower is tucked away behind Swansea (Abertawe in Welsh). I’ve heard the Gower referred to as a suburb of Swansea, and perhaps descriptions such as this have allowed it to retain some of its obscurity. It is certainly close to Wales’ industrial heartland city, but is literally light-years away in terms of scenery and culture. Swansea’s proximity is both the Gower’s boon and its bane. Swansea is close enough to the Gower that you can easily return to civilisation, but on the other hand the Gower Peninsula is bottlenecked by the outskirts of the city, making access difficult.

Getting to the Gower, as I have alluded to, can be tricky. If you don’t have a car, forget it. Though we did see a bus in Rhossili, the Gower strikes you as the kind of place where bus services run daily, if that. However, it is possible to do the short hop on public transport from Swansea. Driving can be equally difficult, because it is necessary to drive through Swansea, the signposting is rather poor, and you have to drive through what seem like unpromising suburbs for 20 minutes before you feel that you’re going in the right direction. When traffic in and around Swansea is busy, getting to the Gower could take ages. Despite the Gower’s proximity to Swansea, it retains a distinctly rural feel you notice from the moment you drive over the cattle grid on the outskirts of Swansea. The main road through the peninsula is one of those tortuous country roads where you dread being stuck behind a caravan because you know there’s no way to overtake. Through woods and small towns you go, up and down and round about until all memory of Swansea’s suburbs is erased.

Rhossili has the distinction of being at the end of the road. Just keep going and eventually you’ll get there. First you spot the blue of the sea beside Rhossili Down, then the gorgeous sweep of Rhossili Bay stretching into the distance, and lastly the dramatic outcrop of Worm’s Head in front of you comes into view. The village is isolated. So isolated, in fact, that there are no national newspapers for sale there, and we weren’t able to read about Greg Rusedski’s outburst the next day! The village contains just three shops, a couple of tea rooms and one hotel, the Worm’s Head Hotel, palatial in comparison with the Black’s tent I’d stayed in on my previous visit. The hotel costs £76 per night for a double room which is fairly steep for a two star, but we did get a fantastic view of Rhossili Bay from the bedroom window, breakfast was good, the room and bathroom were comfortable, and the staff were friendly.

Worm’s Head is what draws many people to the Gower. It was named for its shape, resembling that of sea-monsters, which were once known as the “Wurm”. An island at high tide, it is accessible for about 5 hours at low water for those willing to scramble over rocks, mussels and limpets. You can walk out to the seabird colonies at the far end of the island, or stand on top of the fabulous natural arch between two separate sections of the island. We scrambled and stumbled, inspecting rock pools for fish and shrimps as we went, to the end of the island, but it is bigger than it looks and time ran out for our visit to the bird colony, so we retreated before the tide.

Walking in the area is excellent and many paths criss-cross the peninsula. Most popular is the continual, if dangerous coastal path. Passing unnervingly close to the cliff edge in places, the path wends its way along the coast past hidden coves and golden sands towards the towns of Port Eynon and Oxwich, each hosting their own beaches. On the way we saw a couple don wetsuits and swim around the coastline, four climbers scaling cliffs and of course, the ubiquitous sheep.

As far as facilities go – I have hinted that they are limited. Certainly in the Rhossili area facilities are very restricted. On Rhossili Bay there are no shops close to the beach where you can buy ice creams, for example, nor are there lifeguards, though the towns of Port Eynon or Oxwich may be better provided. In Rhossili during the week the only place to eat and drink in the evening is the hotel bar, which is fine, but it can be limiting for those used to a choice of restaurants and bars. Also, facilities are limited if you are not fully mobile. I would certainly not recommend the Rhossili area if you cannot scramble up and down steep paths. Entertainment during the day is limited to what a beach and surrounding area will provide – in my experience, plenty, providing the weather is fine. At the ages of 26 and 25 respectively I and my boyfriend happily whiled away an afternoon playing frisbee, building water channels and paddling. For the inventive child (or adult refusing to grow up), the beach is a paradise.

In conclusion, the Gower is that rare thing, a wonderful place I discovered all by myself without recommendation (see, I really am still a kid at heart). It has its restrictions – not for kids or adults wanting shops and entertainment, in wet weather your actions would be limited, and I don’t think anyone who isn’t able bodied would enjoy the Gower’s full charms in the Rhossili area. That said, it is a hauntingly beautiful and, to date, charmingly rustic area. Enjoy.