As a teenager I spent many an hour sitting on these very steps waiting for time and tide. A carefully chosen seat would protect me from the elements, too high and the wind would wrap around my ears, threatening to tug at my coat and pull off my hat, too low and I risked cold wet toes. Just right though, and any wind go howling past the top of the steps with just the odd whistle finding its way down to my hideout, and the sea would swirl around below my feet, the white horses would sometimes leap high out of the water and other times just be corralled into the steps in front of me.
Even as a teenager I knew that sitting on the cold, damp stone was a bad idea and that I would pay for it later with my rheumatism and a sleepless night but as a teenager I cared a lot less, and as a result did a lot more.
Repairs to the walls have been made, and been again battered by the sea and the seasons, the outer steps have been replaced over the years, but the “Elf Brigade” seem content to just add a hand rail to the inner steps preserving thousands of footfalls from the past.
The steps go down below the prom and the pavement above provides a roof against any cloud who should venture to drop a downpour, but as each step further down becomes visible the wait becomes shorter, soon there will be enough footing showing to judge the timing of the waves and jump over the side to land, not in the water, but on the pebbles, the jewels of the beach and so another voyage of discovery would begin amongst the “Stones” at my seaside.
More from before : Back to “Penarth“.