We whizzed along the country tracks, parked the car & (obviously) followed the smell of cake.
The trail lead us to a faultless factory line of five grannies, huddled in a fire station, making hundreds of Welsh cakes. Fresh from the griddle, they were tossed into a brown paper bag & dusted with sugar.
It doesn't get more traditional than that! I got ten for £2 - warm, a little cake-y, a little scone-y, a little donut-y, these were absolutely delicious.
We pattered down the colourful high street towards the (even more colourful) pastel infused beach front.
After snaking through the shops & market stalls, we veered left down a dark alley past an old Tudor Merchant's House to the harbour. Where we took some polaroids, admired the lifeboat house & ate our Welsh cakes.
