Anna Nott( D, 25-) had a Wale( s) of a time
The Wykehamist
The Geography Field Trip
Anna Nott( D, 25-) had a Wale( s) of a time
At the start of Exeat in March, three VIBkII students and four JPs embarked on a three-day trip to the Gower Peninsula in South Wales. The trip, led by CLT and Natural History Fellow IRP, was a fantastic opportunity for both year groups to hone their geographical skills and interests. From trekking along Rhossili Bay, clambering inside Paviland Cave, and wading knee-deep through Llanrhidian Salt Marsh, we were given the chance to extend our learning well beyond the classroom— discussing the geomorphology of the coastline from many stunning vantage points, applying our knowledge to the changes of geological landforms over millennia, and indulging the avid birdwatching instincts of Sid Stannah( H, 25-).
Three hours in the minibus later, we arrived at Hardingsdown Bunkhouse. The fresh Welsh air was a welcome greeting, accompanied by the perhaps less romantic smell of sheep from the farm on which we were situated. Having acquainted ourselves with our accommodation for the next two nights and laced up our walking boots, we set out for a first look at the coastline. Guided unexpectedly by a friendly local dog, we crested the hill just in time for sunset. Upon our return, we gathered in front of the television to watch the rugby and eat our much-needed dinner, courteously provided by CLT.
With the evening being mild, and thanks to someone having had the foresight to bring night-vision goggles, we resolved to venture out again. The aim was to spot owls, or perhaps deer— a mission that proved, regrettably, unsuccessful. The goggles did, however, find excellent alternative use in tracking down Seb Browning( G, 22-) and Oliver Landell-Mills( A, 25-), who had absconded into the nearby bushes with the intention of ambushing the first years.
Bright and early on Saturday morning, we set out for Rhossili and West Pilton. We strayed slightly from the path to take in the full drama of the concordant coastline, from which we had to clamber back up with varying degrees of grace.
The weather far exceeded the forecast, and spirits were high as we pressed on at sufficient pace to reach the wave-cut platform of Paviland Cave at low tide. The descent involved scrambling through a geo and across rocks shaped by hydraulic action and attrition over countless centuries.
Our principal motivation, at this point, was lunch. To avoid the metre-deep rock pools, having witnessed Seb’ s leg disappear into one without warning, we perched on wet, angular rocks, unwrapped our sandwiches with considerable care, and hoped the biscuits would survive the wind. The view, however, compensated handsomely— looking up, we could identify relict cliffs and caves formed during a period of markedly elevated sea levels following the last ice age, some ten thousand years ago.
Refuelled, we donned hard hats, waterproofs and head torches, and steeled ourselves for the cave. It was one of the undisputed highlights of the trip, despite the slimy walls and the contorted positions required to keep one’ s feet clear of the water below. Having made it safely to the far end, we extinguished our torches, plunged the cave into complete darkness, and looked up to find a sliver of light above us— a blowhole.
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