“You’re looking at one of the five seas of Kidwelly,” says an elderly chap leaning against the harbour wall next to me.
I peer over the stone wall and am greeted by a sea of mud.
My new acquaintance chuckles, strokes his white beard, then says, “Although, technically, this one begins with the letter Q.”
I frown. A sea beginning with the letter Q?
He smiles and explains a bit more. “Kidwelly is known for five features that all begin with what sounds like the letter C.”
Ah! The penny drops. “This is Kidwelly Quay!” I reply.
He grins and nods. “That’s right. But Kidwelly’s other four features all begin with the letter C. I’m sure you can find them all. Good luck!”
With that, he turns and walks away, leaving me to admire the view.
Kidwelly Quay lies on the Carmarthenshire coastline, at the end of the Gwendraeth Estuary. Two and a half miles away, the Gwendraeth meets the Rivers Taf and Twyi, and all three estuaries open into the expansive Carmarthen Bay.
This means the tides here vary by as much as six metres.
Making the most of the current low tide is an array of birds feeding in the mud. I spy herons, curlews, oystercatchers, and even a little egret.
Kidwelly Quay was once a bustling harbour, but the odds were stacked against it. Built in the late 18th century, it was prone to the prevailing westerlies. In 1886, they were so strong they toppled the harbour’s crane.
But its biggest issue is what the curlews and herons are feeding in now. Mud. The estuary was prone to silting up, which must have frustrated Thomas Kymer, who built the quay.
Not only did he build the quay, he also built another of Kidwelly’s features beginning with the letter C. Behind me lies the canal.
Kymer owned a nearby coal mine and needed to get his coal to the coast in order to ship it around the country.
His Kymer Canal was the solution. Built between 1766 and 1768, this three-mile-long waterway was the first canal built in Wales. It was also the first canal specifically built to connect a coalfield to the coast.
Today, the only traffic running along here are walkers like me, because the Wales Coast Path follows the canal towpath for a few miles. Instead of barges plying their trade, I’m accompanied by dragonflies and birds flitting from one side of the overgrown canal to the other.
The footpath brings me up to a main road, and I head into town in search of Kidwelly’s other attractions beginning with the letter C.
Could one be the church? The spire dominates the skyline, and as I arrive at the churchyard, it’s clear this is no ordinary church.
St Mary’s is the largest parish church in southwest Wales. It was founded in 1114, but burned down in 1223. What stands before me today dates back to 1320, when it was a Benedictine Priory, although at the time only one monk lived here!
It has what’s called a broach spire, which is an octagonal spire that sits on a square tower.
I’m surprised it’s still standing because records show the tower has been struck by lightning four times between the 15th and 19th centuries.
With three of Kidwelly’s features found, I continue along Bridge Street and cross Kidwelly’s Town Bridge.
Just off to my left are the unusual ruins of Kidwelly’s Slaughterhouse.
This small-scale town abattoir has been preserved because it’s one of the few examples of this Victorian utilitarian architecture in the country still standing.
But something else has caught my eye, and I’m drawn along Castle Street. Could this be my fourth C on my Kidwelly feature list?
They look like castle ruins, but they’re not. They are the remains of the 14th-century Kidwelly Gate House, believed to be one of three into the ancient walled town of Kidwelly.
This gatehouse was multifunctional. The first floor had large rooms where the town council met, while the basement provided cells for prisoners.
But a little further along Castle Street stands the impressive ruins of Kidwelly Castle. I’ve found my fourth C.
Although before I explore the castle, I spy a small memorial sheltered by a tree. It bears the inscription: Gwenllian, 1136.
Gwenllian was the daughter of the Prince of Gwynedd and a rebel who led a patriotic rebellion near Kidwelly Castle in 1136. The Welsh had overthrown some of the Norman Marcher Lords who controlled Wales, but were struggling to maintain their advantage.
Gwenllian’s husband headed to North Wales to raise an army, but while he was gone, the Normans marched into South Wales.
Forced to defend Kidwelly Castle from the advancing Normans, Gwenllian raised an army of locals who fought valiantly. Unfortunately, they were defeated when the Normans beheaded her during the battle.
Gwenllian is the only medieval woman known to have led a Welsh army into battle. For years after, Welsh soldiers screamed her name as a battle cry whenever they launched a new offensive.
Ironically, the towering gatehouse before me is part of the 12th-century castle originally built by the English to defend the area against the Welsh.
Kidwelly Castle is the town’s fourth claim to fame, but it feels like two castles in one. And that’s because it is.
Putting a castle within a castle is a clever defensive tactic. As I stroll across the bridge and pass through the main gatehouse, I emerge into the outer ward and find the ruins of another castle in front of me, with a tower at each corner.
If I were a soldier storming this castle, I’d have felt a huge sense of achievement getting through the main gatehouse.
But then I’d have found myself under attack from soldiers hiding in the inner castle. I would have been trapped, with nowhere to run and hide.
Steps lead up to the curtain walls, giving me a soldier’s view of the surrounding area. Perched high above the Gwendraeth River, with views stretching along the estuary as well as across to Pembrey Forest and the Gower Peninsula, it’s the perfect vantage point to look for Kidwelly’s fifth feature beginning with the letter C.
I scan the town, looking for clues, but nothing obvious appears.
After another hour exploring the castle grounds, I find myself pondering the fifth C. What could it be?
It’s not until I walk down Station Road that I stumble across an amazing mural painted on the side of the Kidwelly Rugby Football Club building.
It’s part of an art project connecting ten towns within Carmarthenshire, and this one focuses on the castle, the church, and two of the town’s famous rugby players from the 1970s, Ray Gravell and Gerald Davies. But there are also two black cats!
What’s with the cats?
Then I see them everywhere. Kidwelly Town Council’s logo features a black cat. The town’s coat of arms and official seal also have a black cat. There’s even a black cat on top of some signposts!
Could this stem from the ninth century, when the town’s name was spelt as Cetgueli? Over the years, ancient documents have recorded the spelling as Catwelli.
Or perhaps it’s because folklore tells how a black cat was the first living creature seen after the plague decimated Kidwelly’s inhabitants.
Then I remember another cat connection. In Dylan Thomas’ poem, Under Milk Wood, the captain of the S.S. Kidwelly is called Captain Cat.
Time to reward myself with two things beginning with the letter C. I deserve a cup of tea and a piece of cake!
It’s been exhausting work hunting down Kidwelly’s five features: a cat, a castle, a church, a canal, and a quay!
© Simon Whaley