Wales 3: Laugharne: peaceful spot; Dylan Thomas’s grave; breakfasts

In 1953, driven by financial pressures, Dylan Thomas undertook his fourth American tour in three years. He collapsed into a coma in his New York hotel and was taken to hospital. Caitlin was rushed to New York, and she brought her husband's body back to Laugharne. 

On our first day in Laugharne, Valerie and I stumbled across a cemetery that we thought might contain Dylan Thomas’s grave. It proved not to be so, but this peaceful place yielded some lovely old verse, and glimpses of the estuary:  

Laugharne, a old cemetery       Photo: Ann Barrie

We later ascertained that Dylan Thomas was buried in the new graveyard at St Martin’s church, and we set off to find this the following day.

Dylan Thomas, reminiscing about his childhood, said, “The lane was always the place to tell your secrets; if you did not have any you invented them.” The lane in the following photo leads to the old graveyard at St Martin’s Church, which we had thought might be a shortcut to the new graveyard. When we reached the bottom of the lane, we found the area fenced off due to work being done in the church grounds, so we had to retrace our steps. Nonetheless, I found the lane evocative. 

Laugharne, Wales        Photo: Ann Barrie

Signposts directed us to Dylan Thomas’s grave. Another visitor arrived shortly after us, and he said, “I’m on a pilgrimage. It’s a pity the grave is so simple.” Valerie, however, felt strongly that Dylan Thomas would not have wanted anything fancy, and I agree. The grave is well maintained, and the lettering is crisp and clean; along the top is a row of coins left by pilgrims to the grave. 

Laugharne, Dylan Thomas's grave     Photo: Ann Barrie

Caitlin Thomas moved to Italy a few years after her husband died, and she died in Catania, Sicily, at the age of eighty. She is buried next to her husband in the new graveyard of St Martin's church, and is commemorated on the other side of the cross:

Laugharne, Caitlin Thomas's grave     Photo: Ann Barrie

Valerie and I ended that day with light meal of cottage pie – savoury minced meat with a crispy mashed potato topping – at Brown’s Hotel. This was Dylan Thomas’s favourite pub, and he would drink here every evening, with Caitlin accompanying him. (“If I had not, I would have lost him,” she said.) Dating from the 1750s, Brown’s Hotel has been redecorated, and is atmospheric with Dylan Thomas memorabilia scattered around. The girl who served us had a lovely singsong accent.

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Our hosts at the Boathouse, who were new to the B&B business, gave us excellent breakfasts. He was from Essex, a lover of fresh produce, and he would describe to us each day the seasonal fruits he had put into the fruit salad – nectarines, raspberries, strawberries, cherries, melon, cape gooseberries. He was in charge of the cooking department too, and he managed my poached eggs by removing the pot of simmering water from the stove, then swirling the water just before he dropped in the eggs. His hash browns tasted healthy and good, and he shared his secret: after squeezing all the water out of the grated potato, and adding egg and finely chopped onion, he would bake the hash browns in the oven.

Blog by Ann Barrie