I’d been walking until I was up to my ankles in mud before I heard J shouting me to come back. We’d been looking for some old ruins that we used to hike to back in the day, and this place felt familiar. I’d been here before. As I looked over to where J was, he signalled me to turn around, ‘We’re in the wrong field’. Shrugging and pulling my boots out of this waterlogged swamp, I retraced my steps whilst recalling that this field was not the place of the ruins. It had been a place of former friendships and days gone by. Not what we were looking for today.
As Storm Kathleen puts a halt on everything outdoors this weekend, and the Easter holidays are still upon us, finding quiet places to unwind remains a challenge for those of us with social anxiety, but one me and J are always up for. That’s why following a medical appointment yesterday afternoon, we decided we may as well stay out whilst the weather was doing ok. 'Let’s go to those ruins', I said, 'The ones we used to go to'. In a world of what feels like endless gloom and chaos, who doesn’t love a trip down memory lane for a momentary escape?
So, as we left the wrong field and walked across the road to find the right one, we headed down a gravel track which eventually led us to the ruins of Haroldston House. I’m not a historian or a huge believer in the supernatural but this place has got something about it. What is left of it sits in a rural location, yet close to Haverfordwest town centre. ‘Clay Lanes’ the route you have to take to get to it are widely reported as being haunted, with all sorts of sightings and experiences reported by walkers and people who have travelled along it at night (we might do, one day). The ruins themselves are said to have been the house and grounds of the Perrot family, and were built by a Harold back in the 13th century.
As you walk into the grounds, although the ruins are very faded now, you can still feel a strong sense of what was once there. To be honest, it felt quite strange. When we’d visited years ago we felt the same then. When you’re here, the place itself may be deserted and desolate, yet you can hear the rush of traffic from the bypass nearby. As though two different worlds are colliding.
What does remain in this place is a tower. A tower that J immediately decided we were going to go inside. There are like five steps up to the top of the tower that are almost worn away now but getting up them was ok. Once you reach the top of the staircase, there are the remnants of an old room that gives a view of the grounds. Now mostly trees and nature, it was quite peaceful and in that moment, just us.
As we left the tower, J leaping down the steps and me sliding down them, we took a wander around the rest of the grounds. We didn’t stay too long as the sky was dark and as I mentioned a little earlier, there was a feeling of something that told us it was time to move on. It’s like this sometimes when in nature, not supernatural as such, but more a sense that comes from being in a place. Similar to what we experience when in the hills, but this place was very different. The entire time we were there I didn't feel as though I could stay still with ease, it was like we had to keep moving.
We walked back down Clay Lanes and drove back into town. The afternoon was drawing out but neither of us felt we were done yet. This was J’s turn to make a suggestion, ‘Little Milford Woods?’. Another place we’d not seen for years. By now it was starting to rain heavily but we’d already done wet feet from the wrong field, and we both just needed to stay out a little longer.
As we arrived at the car park for the woods, there were already a large number of cars parked up. We both looked at each other, when this happens it can often deter us from a place but what we have learnt particularly in woodlands, is that we can still find solitude in these places. It’s very easy to space out and go off track when you’re in this kind of place as there are so many different trails and paths. Little Milford is a good one for that.
As we slid down the mud trails that were once paths, we saw nobody and found a lot. With the end of the day nigh, time wasn’t on our side but true to form, we ventured off track and it was a great place to end the day. Little Milford might have been muddy and wet, but there was a sense of calm here. We didn't mind being lost in these woods for a while.
With the rest of the weekend looking as though outdoor wandering is out of the window, I’m glad we made the most of yesterday. Although it wasn’t a huge adventure or vast trip out in the wilderness, it left a story to be told all the same and gave us the break we needed in that moment.
It's these everyday places that we find are so important for solitude. Whether they're woodlands, ruins or somewhere else, these are the places that we can easily reach when we need to, and we know that they will be waiting for us to return to.
Life is wild enough before we even venture out of the door. That's why me and J seek quiet places and share our stories about them. We all need an escape from this world.
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