Considering I was about to spend a week in Wales on a journalistic quest to try as many Welsh cider varieties as possible, I should have brought a raincoat, or at least an umbrella. Summer was waning quickly and gray, chilly autumn days would soon replace the sunny spells of July and August. Foolishly though, I’d left for the airport in a rush, leaving both behind. This being done, showers were almost certainly going to be in the forecast, and I worried about my decision to detour to the Really Wild Food & Countryside Festival, an outdoor event. Sure enough, the weather didn’t disappoint, leaving me cold and damp soon after my arrival in Pembrokeshire.
But I couldn’t decline the invitation when Brian and Julia Powdrill, proprietors of the Really Wild Farm Shop, urged me to attend the festival they founded six years ago in St Davids, a medieval pilgrimage site and the smallest city in Britain. As a travel writer, I’ve learned to adjust my plans on the road, and as someone with a weakness for unusual edibles, I’m powerless when challenged to eat something out of the ordinary. Plus, I reasoned, a generous helping of warm food could only help me forget the soggy pair of socks I would almost certainly be wearing. So I decided to veer from my cider trail in order to spend a day on the coast.
Brian, clad in a lemon yellow slicker, met me at the entrance and led me inside the enormous tent that had been erected to shelter vendors and attendees from the late morning rain. Wet sod squished beneath our feet as he explained the goal of the Really Wild Festival: to promote local and foraged foods, and to offer a place for people to learn about rural traditions. Excitedly steering me down the wide central aisle as he talked, Brian introduced me to a winemaker and then his middle-aged son before leaving me with Nikki Sweet, who was doing a brisk business in her Toloja ciders. My cider quest, I happily noted, wouldn’t be sidelined after all. Nikki poured me little samples of Lancelot, a very dry, tawny liquid, Merlin’s Potion, a reddish cider made tart by the addition of rhubarb, and Drunk Dewi, a slightly sweeter cider conditioned (or naturally carbonated) in oak barrels.
We chatted as the smooth, apple-flavored alcohol warmed me from within and Nikki explained the company’s small start. “We collected most of what we needed off eBay and started with the odd farmer’s market. Now we supply 175 shops.” I was impressed. While I consider myself more of a beer aficionado than a cider drinker, Toloja’s products were good, and their funny names—inspired by King Arthur’s Legend—clearly demonstrated Nikki’s flare for branding. To be honest, the only thing keeping me from buying a few bottles was the size of my backpack and my stubborn belief in traveling light.
I noticed it was already well past the lunch hour and decided then that solid food would be prudent before I tried any more local spirits. Catching a glimpse of the sky though another entrance to the festival tent, I estimated that I had about ten minutes until it started raining again so stepped outside to look for a quick meal. Scattered around a lush pasture with views toward Whitesands Bay, several other stands were selling coffee and tea, seaweed milkshakes, and the chance to “Wang a Wellie,” or heave a large rubber Wellington boot for a prize. Skipping the boot-tossing contest and walking past the pig racecourse, I pressed on a bit further and found myself standing hungrily in front of a grill crowded with patties of lean meat.
“Would you like a boarger then?” asked the woman behind the cooking surface. I nodded enthusiastically.
The wait wasn’t long, and when she handed me a paper plate sagging under the weight of a freshly-made sandwich, I knew I’d chosen well. As I took my first bite, Sarah Tarbutt began to tell me about Harmony Herd, her farm in West Wales where she raises Oxford Sandy and Black pigs crossbred with Wild Boar. I listened intently, munching on a simple yet satisfying combination of free-range boar, grilled onion, and blackberry sauce on a yeasty roll. My mind wandered as I thought longingly that it would have washed down well with Toloja’s Excalibur, a deceptively strong cider brandy. Then again, my taste buds didn’t need dulling. Tuning back in to Sarah, I learned that wild boars are notoriously aggressive animals, temperamental by nature and not particularly popular among farmers. The “boarger” on the other hand, left me feeling quite content and rather sleepy, so I wandered back into the Really Wild tent as the moisture in the atmosphere shifted from soft mist to steady drizzle.