On the positive side, the innkeeper of the shabby hotel was entertaining and most helpful, the view was tranquil even in the rain, we had delicious meals, met some friendly folk and the distance to our next destination involved few rounders and glorious motorways for ever so short a distance. Below is the mega meal shared last night at the WIG.
First a quick stop at Swansea City Hall to deal with parking violation. It is a beautiful complex and the parking is free. Go figure that one! You are assigned a number like in our passport office and then called to a help desk. All staff wear smart uniforms and have been trained in Courtesy 101. The lady who dealt with 2 disgruntled tourists was empathetic, called the head of parking and with sincere sadness told us we were hooped. She offered to contest with a caution it was doubtful. You see it was a parking infraction and a crime. The zig zag lines were white, which meant if a bobby had issued a ticket there would be demerits as well as a fine. We knew with our time frame and the looming spectre of car return we did not need any further blips. We paid and quickly programmed Bonnie GPS to get us out of Dodge. Darn, I should have snapped a photo of the beautiful city hall.
Next stop for us was Radyr Golf Club. I had found this interesting course online, chatted with the pro, Gareth, and booked a tee time for RP as a surprise. The surprise was on us: COURSE CLOSED! Remember rainstorm in Swansea yesterday? Well, in Radyr it was worse. This usually well drained course was a soppy, soggy mess and the rain was still threatening while the wind was starting to howl again. There was a suggestion that maybe the course would open by noon but no promises. Someone looked at me with a pained expression that said, "Does she really think I want to slog it out battling the wind with every shot?" I relented, made RP buy a Puma rain shirt in the pro shop and dragged the poor old guy off to the museum I had planned to visit while he was on the course. Notice the puddles on the practise range.
Nearby is the famed St. Fagan's Museum of Welsh History. It is situated on 104 acres, much of which is maintained as original woodland as most of Wales once was. The land is worked as rural farmland. The outdoor exhibits depict life in Wales from the Iron Age until the modern era. There are some reproductions but many of the buildings are original and restored. They have been moved to this site from various places throughout Wales. For me, trying to grasp an understanding of life as it was for my forbears, this was the perfect spot to be. I have been at a stand still in writing my family history book because I did not know what to say about the ancestors who came to our land so long ago. Now I get it. I took countless photos but will not bore the followers of the blog with too many. First is a photo of a communal oven.
Although it looks simple, it captured my interest because it was the communal oven from Georgetown, a community in Merthyr Tydfil, a Welsh coal and iron town. It was to this town that my 3rd great grandparents moved about 1835. The same 3rd greats, Thomas and Jane, who were married in the church at St. Ishmael, brought their children here. It may have been this oven where great, great, great grandma baked the bread for her husband, children and 1st grandchild, my great granny, Mary Jane. I did not expect to find anything quite so closely connected to me. The next photo represents the kind of home they likely lived in.
The next photo is of a typical farmhouse from the early 1800s. Another branch of the family lived in this type of home in Berriew, Wales (red or white, thatch a foot thick). It was a home such as this where my Great Grandpa John lived from birth until age 10. The thatch caught fire and the farm house burned to the ground in 1858 not long after his mother died. The family survived and soon after his older brothers left Wales for Vancouver Island. He would follow some years later, marry Mary Jane of Merthyr Tydfil faraway in North America.
The museum is a remarkable tribute to the history of Wales and free to all. There is only a small car park fee and request for a donation. We met several school groups as we wandered the grounds. Listening to the children, their teachers and helping parents made us smile and remember those recent days gone by. We left the noisy ones and found a quiet spot at the exhibit of St. Fagan's Castle. Not really a castle but a beautiful manor house built on the site of an original Norman Castle. The displays really show case the class differences: serfs to gentry. RP patiently endured and even suggested photo angles for me. The photo below of the manor house is from an angle scoped out by hubby.
I think the the AH HA! moment for me came when we were about to leave. On the wall of an exhibit hall I found a poem written by the National Poet, Gwynn Thomas in 2001. The words explain why I am here and what this ancestral journey means to me.
Cardiff is only 9 miles from this lovely historic gem. It was a quick trip through 2 rounders, one good A route and a couple of city intersections to our hotel, Radisson Blu. What a glorious treat - swishy, modern, well appointed, exquisitely comfy and the towels are plush. Better yet we walked across the street and found ourselves in St. David's 2, a modern, upscale, edgy, trendy shopping area complete with bars, restaurants, boutiques. It is similar to Glasgow. There is a lovely mix of old and new, both functioning in symbiotic vibrancy. No photos yet but we love Cardiff already and are keen to explore tomorrow.
BTW: we are following the weather reports. There has been record wind, rain and flooding in the areas where we have been. Predicted in a small belt of the UK which should enjoy sun, cloud, a little rain and a bit of wind. That would be where we are and where we are going. Thank you weather angels.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
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