On the road to Llareggub

I liked the taste of beer, its live white lather, its brass-bright depths, the sudden world through the wet brown walls of the glass, the tilted rush to the lips and the slow swallowing down to the lapping belly, the salt on the tongue, the foam at the corners."

That the poet Dylan Thomas developed an unholy affection for alcohol is well-recorded. What visitors to his birthplace in 5 Cwmdonkin Drive, Swansea, might be surprised to learn is that, behind the scenes, Thomas was more pampered manchild than renegade, demanding that his wife place jellybeans around his bath and slice the tops off his eggs at breakfast-time.

The staunchly middle-class dwelling where Thomas came into the world in 1914 is currently a private residence. The tenant, Jo Furber, fulfils the role of informal curator, ushering visitors around the rather threadbare, pebble-dashed villa, while filling in the gaps left by a lack of memorabilia with intriguing anecdotes and insights.

Her dream is to raise the £250,000 necessary to buy the house and transform it into a thriving literary venue, a living, breathing Thomas shrine. "I feel it should be more than just a museum, although there'd be space for that, too," she explains. "I'd like to see the place full of activity, a community venue accessible to a broad range of people."

Certainly, the master of imaginative whimsy, the most quoted writer after Shakespeare, deserves a better cherished monument to his early years than the present offering. Particularly as Thomas was at his most prolific here – three-quarters of his output was penned between the ages of 16 and 20. After leaving home to live in London, he spent as much time cultivating a reputation as a boozy, womanising, bon viveur as he did a literary one. According to his first serious girlfriend, Pamela Hansford Johnson, he was trapped in his own legend by his early twenties.

The poet's birthplace kicks off the Dylan Thomas trail, a route that leads westwards to Laugharne and the idyllic "Boat House" he shared with his wife Caitlin and their three children, to Fishguard (where Under Milk Wood, his most famous work, was filmed), and on to Pwllgwaelod Bay where the infamous drinking haunt, The Sailor's Safety, now lies sorrowfully abandoned. It is said that Laugharne, with its crumbling charm and cache of quirky characters, was the inspiration for Under Milk Wood. Browns Hotel, hangout of Thomas and Caitlin, is on the main street.

Inside, there is a choice of the lounge (described sneerily by Thomas as "the nice people's bar") and the public bar. Both bask in a midweek lunchtime hush. We opt for the public bar. A photo of Thomas fan Pierce Brosnan, arm encircling the shoulder of landlord Tommy Watts, peers down from the wall.

Devotees such as Brosnan come to pay homage to Thomas, but it is the dryad-like Caitlin, one-time lover of Augustus John, whom the locals recall with greatest relish. As one observed: "She didn't give a bugger what anyone thought." The recollections of their relationship reveal a cryptic mix of volatility and devotion. The couple were not averse to violent physical confrontations, won, apparently, by Caitlin. Their home, the picturesque Boat House, perched above the Taf estuary, has been empathetically restored to give the feel of a comfortable family house. Sadly, the writing shed, where Thomas laboured over Under Milk Wood, is empty, the contents having been removed for preservation. The Boat House was intended as a refuge from drink and debt. And perhaps for a time it fulfilled that function. Certainly Thomas's description suggests an empathy for his waterside home:

"In the mustardseed sun,

By full tilt river and switchback sea

Where the cormorants scud,

In this house on stilts high among beaks ..."

In 1938, Thomas, Caitlin, Augustus John and their mutual friend Fred Janes took a day trip to Fishguard to visit the Eisteddfod. More than 30 years later, superstar glamour landed on Fishguard's quaint Lower Town, when Richard Burton (with Elizabeth Taylor in tow) arrived for the filming of Under Milk Wood. The harbour became Thomas's Llareggub (read it backwards).

The tavern at nearby Pwllgwaelod Bay, a delightful thumbnail-sized inlet, was a hot choice on his carousing itinerary. Regretfully, The Sailor's Safety has closed. Thomas and countless others, myself included, have enjoyed boozy sessions in its depths.

The story, if not the trail, ends in New York. Debt drove him to the US on a fourth and final lecture tour, despite Caitlin's opposition (she hated the posturing necessary to maintain his maverick image). Her misgivings were justified. Aged 39, bloated and prematurely aged, he collapsed in his hotel room and died in hospital five days later.

The cause of death is likely to have been untreated diabetes rather than the 18 straight whiskies of myth. Doubtless Thomas, a man who revelled in amplifying the truth, would have been far happier with the latter version.

Nerys Lloyd-Pierce travelled courtesy of the Welsh Tourist Board (029-2049 9909; www.visitwales.com). 5 Cwmdonkin Drive is open to visitors by prior arrangement. For details, call the Dylan Thomas Centre, Swansea (01792 463980; www.dylanthomas.org).