Keep this place a secret, it's the new "Best Place In The World".
Parked in the camper five hundred feet up on the cliffs, facing Ireland, with Anglesey to the north, Snowdonia to the east and the broad expanse of Cardigan Bay to the south.
I can see all of it in an amazing three hundred and sixty degree panoramic scenic extravaganza. Like the purple prose ?
Getting down to the rock marks is, err, challenging. The type of place where official advice would be "don't fish alone or in bad weather, wear a life jacket, approach with extreme caution, etc".
To be fair, the speed of the tide race is frightening. If you fall in you're not getting out. Well, not alive anyway. Best not fall in then.
It's taken a bit of time to get to grips with what happens with the tides. They constantly stop and start and fishing when it's slack water seems a waste of time, for pollack and mackerel at least. But when the water starts flowing the fish usually switch on immediately.
Yesterday evening I had some very big mackerel and a few pollack, which hit the metal lures right on the edge of the main flow. One after another for an hour or so until the flow slackened.
After a killer trek back up the cliff, I cooked and shared them with another bloke in the van parked up next to me, just as the sun set over a clear sky and flat calm sea.
Another perfect day.