Carry on camping
I had one of the best holidays of my life in Saunderfoot. It was during the short period of my life when I had a proper job....three weeks paid holiday. Finn was two and a half, the weather forecast looked good, and we stuffed the car full of tent and babystuff and headed off down the motorway in the general direction of Pembrokeshire. No real idea of exactly where: when my then partner was all driven out (I am one of the three people in the UK without a driving license)we simply stopped at Saundersfoot because the OS map showed a campsite there.
Well, the campsite was fine...not that horizontal, but almost empty. And the weather, miraculously, held. For two weeks. Strangers to the uncertainty and frequent misery of being situated on the edge of the North Atlantic weather system will not appreciate what an extraordinary occurrence this is.
"Don't push your luck"
The following year we thought we'd do it again. Big mistake. After reaching Saudersfoot having stopped at every other service station for Finn to have a pee, we pitched camp and woke the follwing morning to one of those summer days that remind you irresistably of late November.
And it didn't get any better. After a couple of days, everything damp at best, we threw in the (soggy) towel and headed back, enabling us to visit all the service stations we had missed on the journey down.