Parkmill, the Gower Hotel 1910

On our way to Three Cliffs Bay

For my sister, Carol, and I, Parkmill meant only one thing - Shepherd's Shop.
The only place to buy ice cream and sweets and even the new 'Coca Cola'. We always stopped here on our way to and my aunt's wooden bungalow almost on the beach at Three Cliffs Bay where we spent many, many happy summers. What wonderful days they were.

Mumbles Memories

My Great, Great, Grandfather planted these trees which you can see running down the middle of the photo in 1883 when the cemetery was opened and they are still present to this day.
His name was Henry Harris (1827-1911).  He died at 84yrs old. His wife Elizabeth Harris passed away in 1920 aged 88yrs at the Cemetery Lodge where they both resided.

Ghostly happenings!!!

I recall my father Gerry Richards of West Cross telling me that when the building was no longer being used( he was then an acting security man having formerly tended the gardens and the boiler system) that he and his colleague were in the kitchen when they heard footsteps(the clicking of high heels) coming from the internal corridor towards the closed door. Thinking it was a visiting hospital worker he went to the door to open it. As the footsteps reached the door he opened it, the footsteps stopped - there was no one there!! then they realised that all the external doors were locked and bolted, CREEPY!!!!

Diving off the Donkey Rock

We moved to Thistleboon, Mumbles from the East End of London in 1968 when I was 7 years old and I fell in love with the sea. A fond memory of those far off summers is my friends and I jumping from the Donkey Rock at Rotherslade at high tide. You had to time your launch just right to catch the crest of a wave as it rolled up the beach. Too soon and the water would be too shallow, many a scraped knee or ankle was had from these escapades. It was particularly good if there had been a storm the day before and the surf was choked with seaweed. This would act as a cushion upon landing! Mind you... it was a bit of a struggle getting out to the beach. Today's Health & Safety police would have a fit if they saw what we got up to. Tying old washing lines together and abseiling down the cliffs at Lambs Well and Doctors Mine. One Bonfire Night we collected as many fireworks as we could, packed all the gunpowder from them into an old Coke can, piled pebbles from the beach around and blew it up under the old Rotherslade concrete promenade... the resulting boom left me deaf for 3 days afterwards.. and I've still got the scar on my head where the blast knocked me over. Ahh...happy days and a charmed childhood.