Bank Holiday Monday

I was asked to go to Llancaiach Fawr Manor on Bank Holiday Monday. I was told it was on the B4252 between Nelson and Gelligaer. I simply couldn't place it.  In the past I had been very knowledgeable in that area, but this I couldn't bring to mind; this tourist attraction that everyone seems to know about but me.

Llancaiach Fawr Manor.

The reason for this I have found out, is that it was simply a dilapidated manor house when I knew the area in the 1960/70s.  Restoration commenced in 1991.


Visitors today step into the Manor House restored and furnished as it would have been in 1645. All the furnishings in the rooms are accurate reproductions of items from the time of the Prichards and many of the originals can be found in the Museum of Welsh Life at St. Fagans. It has all been done extremely well and deserves it's popular status.  It also attracts people into the valleys where the economy requires boosting.


In a recent poll Llancaiach Fawr was named as one of the Top Ten most haunted buildings in Britain. Strange things have been experienced in almost every room, along corridors and upon stairs. Things seen, heard or felt, or sometimes odours in the air of violets or lavender - and on some occasions, roast beef!

Whether it is haunted or not, it's a nice day out. I am glad I went.  They had a dog show in the grounds on Monday, and that was fun.  They have an extensive range of events coming up for the Autumn and Christmas.  I was very impressed by the whole experience and shall certainly be going back.

Break in Brighton

Well, firstly I have to thoroughly recommend the book listed in the previous posting.  One of the few books that has held my attention completely, all the way through, for the last few years.  Well worth recommending.


My trip to Brighton was uneventful until I had to change at Fratton, and there, quite by accident, I met someone who was born and brought up in Tredegar, my home town, and we seem to know a lot of the same people and even went to the same school!  How about that for coincidence?  Whether or not I believe in coincidence or not is the subject for another posting. It was just amazing!

'Myrtle'  My friends home on a 1930's barge.

I will tell you something of the community on the Riverbank at Shoreham-by-Sea. The banks of the river Adur (pronounced Ada) heave and settle at low tide, exposing their riches to the appetites of wildfowl.  This is where I went for my break.  The weather was lovely most of the time; the Riverbank community was fascinating. This is my second visit and the eclectic mix of artists, potters and aging hippies is very Bohemian. Brilliant for 'People Watchers'. On warm summer days this community of houseboat-owners potter about in shorts and swimming costumes, emptying bilges and repairing woodwork like modern day Robinson Crusoe's


These people have cast themselves away from the pre-occupations of home ownership in the traditional way, from mortgages and re-sale values, to live in old torpedo boats and oyster catchers that are no longer sea worthy, moored to the shingle bank that separates Shoreham in Sussex from the sea.  Across the footbridge that spans the estuary in front of them lies the little Victorian town of Shoreham with it's street pavement cafes and old-world shops, such as Ironmongers that still sell loose nails and a fantastic Wool & Craft shop.


This is where reality and fantasy meet.  Is it sane to seek sanctuary from the claustrophobia of the suburbs and have the glistening shallow waters as your view?  Or is it insane to live on a boat that possibly leaks when it rains, where the pumps have to be turned on every time the tide floods the bilges, and you lie awake at night listening to the wind tugging at the moorings when the winter arrives?


Well, I suppose it's a matter of choice.  I don't know that I would be brave enough to take on this way of life, but I certainly take my hat off to people who do!

Recommended Book



Two friends, in different parts of the country, recommended this book to me this week.

How is it a person goes months, years even, with nobody recommending a good book; then two people recommend the same book in one week?  It's not as if it is a new release. My theory is that it must be worth reading.  I am going to a friend in Brighton tomorrow for a few days, I think I shall get this to read on the train.  This is what I found when I googled the book... 



'WRONGED. HANGED. ALIVE? (AND TRUE!) Anne can't move a muscle, can't open her eyes, can't scream. She lies immobile in the darkness, unsure if she'd dead, terrified she's buried alive, haunted by her final memory—of being hanged. A maidservant falsely accused of infanticide in 1650 England and sent to the scaffold, Anne Green is trapped with her racing thoughts, her burning need to revisit the events—and the man—that led her to the gallows. Meanwhile, a shy 18-year-old medical student attends his first dissection and notices something strange as the doctors prepare their tools . . . Did her eyelids just flutter? Could this corpse be alive? Beautifully written, impossible to put down, and meticulously researched, Newes from the Dead is based on the true story of the real Anne Green, a servant who survived a hanging to awaken on the dissection table. Newes from the Dead concludes with scans of the original 1651 document that recounts this chilling medical phenomenon.'


Hmm... should hold my attention on a four hour train journey!

Who killed 'Dripping' Lewis?



Mrs Monty Dart, Writer & Researcher.



Yesterday, I went to listen to a talk in Pontypool Museum given by writer and researcher Monty Dart.  She is investigating the 1939 murder of Pontypool landlord William Alftred Lewis, after coming across the case at the National Archives. The talk was extremely interesting.

Fifty-nine-year-old Mr Lewis, also known as Dripping Lewis, was a wealthy landowner who owned  properties for rent in Pontpool. He was killed in his home 'Plasmont' in Pontypool, in May 1939. A builder and decorator, Mr. Thomas Brimble, who had been renovating Mr Lewis’ house discovered the body.

Mr Lewis had been a draper at Cwm, Ebbw Vale until 1931.  The morning of the discovery of the body, the local milkman told Mr Brimble that the milk he had left on Monday was still in the two jugs and had not been used or taken inside.  It was then that Mr Brimble went into the house to investigate. He found Mr Lewis’s body sprawled across his bed with a pillow over his face. He contacted the police at once. The story made headlines both locally and nationally.


Scotland Yard was duly informed and four of their officers came to investigate. They discovered that Mr Lewis had suffered several blows to the back of the head but could find no weapon nor any other clues. They later discovered that about £300 was missing from the house.

Mrs Dart said: “Nearly half of Pontypool was interviewed – if you weren’t interviewed then you would have known somebody who was. It was a very notorious crime. Technically the murderer could still be alive if he/she was very young at the time."

Mrs Dart is appealing for anyone who has information about Mr Lewis or the crime to get in touch. She hopes eventually to turn her research into a book. Anyone reading this blog with any knowledge of the 'Dripping Lewis' story could maybe help Mrs Dart with her research; you could contact me via the comments section, and Mrs. Dart will immediately be informed of your interest in the case.

Butternut Squash

During early summer I noticed some Butternut Squash plants for sale.  I had not seen these before so I bought two, one for my friend and one for me.  I don't have a greenhouse, so mine has had to survive outdoors.  My friends plant took off in his greenhouse and mine just plodded along.  Now, at last, mine have flowered.  I have two super flowers and the beginnings of small fruit forming.  I am so pleased!

What happened to my friends plant?  Well, his was eaten by something in his greenhouse!!! Sad  :) !

Seagulls

I live in an urban area.  This summer there has been a huge rise in the seagull population around these street.  I agree that we are approximately five miles from the sea, but as the crow flies (or seagulls in this case) that is not too far obviously.

                                 This is the kind of thing that greets me when I open the doors in the morning.

I know that seagull population is soaring and are proving a serious headache in urban Britain. Noise, mess, and the threat of physical attack have prompted a range of measures aimed at repelling the winged invaders. But as efforts to curb them fail, the gulls get ever more aggressive. But I have never seen them in these parts in such numbers.

One perched on top of my car a few mornings ago, but soared away before I could capture the scene with my camera. Conservationists say the problem is partly the result of human actions. According to the Royal Society for the Protection of Birds (RSPB), Europe's largest wildlife conservation charity, the loss of cliff-top breeding sites to coastal development and depleted fish stocks at sea are propelling the inland migration. Well, they know where to go.  Last week there were dozens in Asda's car park, not too far from the city centre.

"Heaven for a gull is any place with lots of open-top litter bins, flat roofs on which to nest, and tourists feeding you in summer," said Grahame Madge, RSPB spokesperson. Well, I don't know that we get many tourists in Newport (and who can blame tourists staying away from the city centre? - That's another subject), but there are plenty of flat roofs and open top litter bins in the suburbs.

"Seagulls are very territorial and protective of their young," said Madge. "Most incidents occur during the summer breeding season when fledglings leave their nests but are still unable to fly. If someone gets too close, the parents will defend their young. The intention is not to strike people, but deter them from coming nearer."



Menacing?



As an observer in this area this summer I can see that with so many gulls living next to humans, the two are bound to come into conflict eventually. I don't know what the answer is, and I don't mind them personally, but if they came too close, I guess I wouldn't be too pleased!

Halls of Learning & Barry Island!

Newport University - New Town Centre Campus



I have spent most of the weekend and all of today finishing off my end of year assignment for university. It has been one of the more difficult terms in the sense of study; the subject is Language Study and Creativity.  I have written about the Welsh Valley accent (being valley born & bread) I wanted to write about a subject and area that interests me.


My story is called The Chapel Outing which is about the annual trip to Barry Island, organised by the Chapel in the 1950s. Hopefully this will satisfy the criteria. The idea that a small valley town could be interesting enough for a story seemed challenging. When researching the development of this distinctive accent I realised the research itself had provided me with the basis I was looking for.


I have the utmost respect for valley people and writing about the accent is not a form of ridicule, but endearment. I travelled to the town of my childhood to assist with research and requested local people read it. The response was favourable and I was able to incorporate their comments. This gave me the encouragement to refine, edit and make the decision to present it.



Barry Island in the 1950s, with the original Miss Jones sitting in the middle!

I wonder how many people will read this posting and will remember the days when a trip to Barry Island was exactly like the photo above; a place of pure magic for children? Come to think of it, almost all of the photos on the Blog introduction (on the right hand side) of me as a child were taken at Barry Island.  I am sure there are thousands of these photos in peoples attics all over the Welsh Valleys. Tucked up with memories of stalls selling gaily-coloured buckets, metal spades with wooden handles and beach balls all hanging up; candyfloss booths with a smell of burning sugar, and the Figure Eight was swooping and people whooping, Barry Island was certainly a magic place to be.

Bleanavon Visit - 3

The Pit Head Baths

If someone had said to me a month ago that it would take me three full day to really explore the heritage town of Blaenavon I would have disagreed. Yet, it has taken my friend and I just that - three trips up the valley and we are considering another one.


The cafe in the Blaenavon World Heritage Centre is well worth a visit. Clean, affordable and delicious food, all cooked freshly; with all cakes home made by the young women who run it.

It is wonderful that all these museums are free of charge. An educational place to take children in the long school holidays with minimum expense to the parents. Literally, a mine of history!