From the window on the train, I gaze out at the Welsh countryside, on my way to
CARDIFF
That's when I heard her on the phone - that's when I knew this was going to be rough - at least rougher than I had anticipated. She was speaking Welsh and from the lilt and tone, I knew she was a "mum". She ended the call with "ta-ra cariad" which means "see you later my sweet little one" - she sounded just like my mother. My mother spoke Welsh fluently and always talked in Welsh on the phone to women church friends. I haven't heard someone speak like that in about thirty years - it's an indescribable sound and it made me feel homesick. I realize, it's Mother's Day tomorrow - ah.
My mother is at far left, pouring the tea. This was taken in my grandmother's house (my father's mother) - my grandfather made the Welsh dresser holding the china
Fifty years and everything changes - almost. My bed-sit was on the top floor, far right. No balcony or bay window then. Mrs. Lil Jones owned the apartment; Denise Evans rented one room and I the other - we all shared kitchen, bath and washing machine. Rent was 2 pound 10 per week (about $10/week).Now that I think on it, the apartment may have been on the second floor. Ah yes - I remember it well!
Swans on the river? A skiff on the river? Unimaginable 50 years ago!
The flat was on Coldstream Terrace, and it was not the beautiful riverfront property that it is today. Back then, it was on the dirty old river Taff. People dumped their garbage off the bridge in the morning (I watched them!). Beneath our building, where the graffiti is, there was a public toilet. I remember seeing bobbies periodically going in there and out would come dozens on men. Hm - I wondered - how could so many men be in that small bathroom at the same time?
I loved living over the river and seeing all the life that went on. At Christmas, there would be strings of lights across the bridge.
This was just about the view from my room - only I could see the clock tower of the Castle from the second or third floor. It was just a short walk across the bridge to the Castle, where I attended college - Cardiff College of Music and Drama.The Castle is behind the trees on the left. Back then, there was no Holiday Inn (what an ugly building!) - but that's where I stayed on this visit.
When I lived on Coldstream Terrace, Cardiff Arms Park was brand new. From my flat, I could hear the crowds of footballers and the revelers singing on the way to the pubs after the game.
So 50 years on and they've added a skirt around the stadium so cyclists and joggers have a path alongside the river. Nice!
In 1969 I didn't see or hear a word of Welsh in Cardiff. Times have changed for the better. Now there is Welsh everywhere - a resurgence of the language - even Welsh TV shows with English subtitles on Netflix - great!!
I only had one full day in Cardiff, so I started off at Coldstream Terrace and worked my way back into town. After a walk-by of Cardiff Arms Park, I headed over to my former school - Cardiff College of Music and Drama.
The main entrance had rows of mailboxes similar to post office boxes.The music rooms were to the left; the drama rooms to the right. The small door to the right of the entrance led to the Roman Cafe.
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In the good 'ol days the only part of the Castle open to the public were the grounds.There was a walkway up to the keep but no bridge across the moat and no entrance to the keep. There was a Henry Moore statue on the walkway. No admission fee. Now, of course, there's a charge for the main rooms, an extra charge for the outer rooms and another charge for the keep.
Fencing classes were held in the room with the window at the top of the turret. One day, a famous alumnus visited our acting class - Sir Anthony Hopkins.The Lion In Winter had been released in 1968 and he was a star on the rise.
The room with the portraits was our main performance area. We met here for movement class, elocution class and all our acting classes. We'd set up risers when needed for a stage to perform on.
The door led down a narrow flight of stairs to the Roman Cafe - a popular hangout for tea; Scotch eggs, cheese rolls, peas and chips.
A beautiful day to visit the Castle - blue skies, puffy clouds, a little breeze.
It was a nostalgic moment - seeing groups of young tourists taking pictures on the Castle green - hearing the sounds of laughter - like an echo from fifty years ago. I remember David Cutts, Tony O'Donnell, Karen Owen,
Ken Hardy, Catherine Gilchrist, Anona, Betsan, Yvette,
Roger, Alan, Linda, Penny....
The central area of downtown now is a pedestrian walkway. I liked it but you know - those were the days, my friend. Back in '69 it was fun to browse up and down the old streets, stopping in at the British Home Store for cheese, going into Marks & Spencer for necessities, perhaps venturing into David Morgan's for a special treat. The market was down one of the alleyways. Now it's at the center of the walkway.
Most people wouldn't associate the UK with great cuisine, but, if you happen to believe, as I do, that anything with gravy is good - then you must visit and dine in the Cardiff Market!
All sorts of cheese - elderflower, Gloucester, even Welsh cheddar at the cheesemongers!
You can still find sausages and mash and English breakfasts (fried egg, tomato, mushroom, streaky bacon) but I hadn't seen baked beans on toast until Cardiff Market.
The Welsh cakes are thicker and larger than those my mother made (or I make) - and now come in infinite variety - lemon Welsh cakes, Nutella Welsh cakes, coconut and ginger Welsh cakes, chocolate (??) Welsh cakes!
1 pound for a Welsh cake? Pretty steep to me!
For special occasions, like the St. David's Day banquet (to honor the patron saint of Wales) my grandmother would make an old Welsh dish - peas and faggots. I found them in the Central Market in Cardiff. They are similar to haggis, I believe - liver, onions, bits and pieces all held together in a veiling of cow stomach membrane. Well - I guess it's something you have to grow up with! I loved/love them - along with English peas. English peas are peas with a capital "P"! They are almost as big as your thumbnail!
View from the second floor.
On Sunday I spent most of the day in Marks & Spencer, then caught the afternoon train home for my final night at 22 York Street.
Look who was tucked into a corner!
Everything seemed to have a layer of "spit and polish" - spiffed up from the way I remembered it. I remember a grimy station, kiosks for cigarettes and magazines staffed by men with cigarettes hanging from their lips, brusk and efficient. I felt more at home in the old station - clean and well-marked it was not, but it had the human touch.
On the way back, I passed these "Air Quality Champions" - it's their job to listen for motors idling fast or engines that sound sputtering and issue warnings. Drivers can either get the car fixed, or get fined. "Champions" of the environment - good on Britain!!
On York Street, across from 22 York Street B & B
22 York Street
A beautiful foyer and tiled floor leading........up
.....and.......up...........
........and.......up..........
.....and......up.......
It was a lovely little room - small, yes, but it was perfectly complete. The bed was comfy. It was quiet. The bathroom had been completely renovated. There was a closet and TV. It was the perfect room while getting out and about in one of the greatest cities of the world.
I loved the breakfasts at the B & B where a communal table was set. And what a lovely table it was - beautiful china, chubby little teapots, marmite, honey, marmalade, fruit, cereal, fresh croissants. And linen napkins.
until.....finally!!!
Didn't think I would fit in the shower - but - where there's a will!!
Many of the guests here were from the European continent. Most were repeat customers, and eager to share travel experiences.I was invited to come along on a cross-country hiking adventure but I had other plans (like getting home in one piece).Very welcoming, inclusive group.
So I checked out of the B & B the next morning, got in my car and drove home. Heh-heh. Well, maybe not. This car was parked in front of the B & B every day and I am in love with this car. Yes - I've tried (and tried) to free myself from attachment to "things". But this car is so beautifully designed - isn't it? Just so sleek and put together. I can't afford it - but I can dream and keep on trying to be an untethered soul!