Wandering In Welsh Tuscany

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

It started when I was in the bath. There was a phone call. After a few minutes my wife's voice was behind the bathroom door. The call was from her brother. He, his partner and others from her family side including some kids were going to Cosmeston and asked whether we wanted to come. She had said yes thinking of our daughter but then asked whether I wanted to go as well.

"What's in Cosmeston?" I asked.

"A lake" came the response

"Then no. But you two can go".

Now that might appear to have been a selfish response. And well it was. But in fairness to me I knew what was going to happen. I'd have just been the grumpy bored man by himself reading whilst everyone else had a nice time.

So what to do. It was a bank holiday in good weather and I was to be by myself. Everything I'd wanted to watch on TV was already set for record. There was no sports event I could have gone to.

Then I had an idea.

Since the weather was good the traffic was going to go the beaches. So what if I went the other way? To go further up the Rhondda Valley than I've been before and then to then turn round and stop off in some places along the way back. A sort of Valleys Pub Crawl without the alcohol, or indeed the pub.

As I think I've mentioned before there is a description of Wales as Italy with rain. Now if you believe that, and I do, then the South Wales Valleys are its Tuscany. That's the region where my Italian relatives live and so I'm conscious of their similarities. I am a fan of the Valleys for many reasons, not just the scenery that can take your breath away but its sense of community. The one and only thing that (all other things being equal) stops me from moving up there is the fear of being snowed in during the winter.

Probably an old fashioned romantic in my view of the Valleys (I'm definitely old) but there you are. That's just me,

It had been roughly an hour's drive from Bridgend and I'd driven through villages and towns towards Hirwaun in Cynon Valley. But having not reached Hirwaun after about ten minutes or so from Treherbert and with no clear sight of the village I'd decided to turn around. This was the view from the place I'd turned around in.

Had me in thrall for a long while

On the return route I'd stopped of in a car park called Hendre Mynydd which gave these sights to savour.

The World In Calm

Better than a beach

Here are a few more pictures of the journey before I reached Treherbert.

At Peace

This is not London...or Cardiff

Bear in mind before I go on that this was a spur of the moment thing. So because I'd gone on a Bank Holiday most of the shops (majority of which were credibly not of the big stores) in the villages I'd visited were closed. What was open were mainly the small convenience stores, the takeaways and the pubs. Next time I do this it'll be a day when you can go into the shops.

Treherbert had a library....not now.

Intellectual Vandalism

Which political party did this? Labour.... supporting the community.

Here is the view from Treherbert.

In weather like this I envy the people who live here

Imagine getting out of your house and seeing this every day.

Worthwhile going out and getting some milk everyday

At the village of Pen Yr Englyn there was a mural of Welsh and local life/history opposite the school on the wall. It was too big to show on one picture so I split it into three to show you.

One

Two

Three

In Treorchy I crossed off a Valleys bucket list by having a cappuccino in one of the legendary Italian cafes.

The place for "proper" coffee

I chatted to the proprietor. We spoke about how similar Wales and Italy are and his support for Parma football club (a club's decline truly in the "Fall Of The Roman Empire" mode).For the record he made the cup as it should be made not in the frothy mess of the coffee chains.

Wasn't looking for any places that had closed down especially given that as I said a lot of the shops were closed for the Bank Holiday. This however was striking.

Sad. Once upon a time it would have been a community focal point

Treorchy does however have the best name for a company that irons clothes.

Say I mentioned them online

Pentre is the name of a village. It's also the Welsh for Village. So the view of the village called village is,,,,

A view from the village

Do you want to know what's sad about the sign below? According to google the Primary school closed down last year. Again Labour...supporting the community.

So sad

I went to other places as well such as Tonypandy and Ton Pentre but the lack of things that were open meant that there wasn't anything to chat about today. Finally I went to Llwnypia to surprise our friends there by turning up and had a cup of tea and a few biscuits. Mind you I'd always promised them that I'd visit and I kept my word.

It was an enjoyable trip...but I will plan it better when trying this again. 

Until the next time.

Cruise Control In Caerphilly And A Beef With Burger King

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

For some reason the Bank Holiday gods seem to have been kind to me and my family. I'm not working this weekend (tick),the weather in the west of Britain has been good (tick) and even on Saturday the grass had been done before the situation had reached jungle stage (Big,big, tick).

Indeed the fact that the grass had been done brought on the very unusual situation of  a neighbour apologising to me for the state of her grass ("My lawnmower's broke...I'm so sorry"). My response was some sort of benevolent understanding given that I was too stunned to do anything else. Though if you asked why I hadn't offered, she'd hired someone else to do it.

What was also unusual for a Bank Holiday Weekend was that we actually had a plan for Sunday. Unfortunately there wasn't any live sport for a short period that would've persuaded wife/daughter to have come and watched.So a look online had revealed a "Medieval Experience" at Caerphilly Castle for the weekend. Where there would be demonstrations of the "sights,sounds and smells" of  Britain at that that time.

Caerphilly is with clear traffic about 40 minutes away from Bridgend and since the traffic would've been mainly aimed in the other direction for the coat that would not have been an issue. Furthermore we hadn't visited the town for a about ten years. There was no good reason for this other than we had was no reason to go there (though we have been further up the valley a few times to the the village of Abertridwr where some of my wife's family lives).

Caerphilly Castle is a curious mixture of  medieval castle, ruin and restoration. It dominates the town and I remember that it was the landmark that represented Wales in Legoland Windsor.

When you walk to the castle you will find geese in your path. Wife/daughter were scared but personally I find if you don't draw attention to yourself and have no food in your hand they don't bother you.

The Start 

Of course the closer you are the more geese appears. Some people were happy to throw food to them. These fools obviously never having seen Alfred Hitchcock's The Birds

Better get ready to run when you've run out

But when it comes properly into view  Caerphilly Castle has the sort of aura that only a true landmark has.

You have to be impressed

And imagine you're a soldier in the middle ages and are confronted by this.

Imposing

Once we paid our money and went inside daughter was thirsty. So we bought a small bottle of dandelion and burdock for £1.75. Had we realised this we would have brought drinks in And would have had a small picnic on the grass as others did.

Makes a change from a country field

But of course one of the highlights was the view from the top.

More about those white tents later

Of course there were things to see inside as well. Though to be honest it doesn't have the wow factor of the outside.

Perhaps a call to IKEA?No?

Getting back to the views from the top.

You can gaze at that for a long while

And again.

Stunning

Do you remember the "Medieval Experience"...and those white tents? Well I think you know where this is leading.

An "In tents" experience

This involved someone in appropriate garb talking about life in those times. Including "Medieval Masterchef". But to be honest my stomach was demanding that it time to leave. But not before we went into the gift shop to get some things. I collect bookmarks, for reasons I won't bore you with today, I got this.

I know you're impressed

But there are limits and I didn't get this one.

Enough said

So we were out and it was time to eat something. The wife wanted to go to the top of Caerphilly mountain and have lunch there but daughter had noticed a Burger King. Being neutral I abandoned all parental responsibility and tossed a coin. Burger King won.

I must admit when it comes to a choice between Burger King and McDonald's normally big M would win. If only because there always seems to be a race to see whether you can eat a Burger King burger before the bap dissolves in your hand. This time however it was worse. A floor that seemed sticky as you walked.No water, No barbecue sauce and a very underwhelming meal that was heavy on your stomach and light on your wallet.

This cost me £17.53 for three

I had the Aberdeen Angus meal. It was so tasteless that it could have been Angus from Aberdeen.for all I knew. It hung on my stomach for the rest of the day as if I'd put my belt a notch too tight. It will be a long while and a state of desperation before I have a Burger King again.

We did wander round the town centre,but not enough to make a proper comparison with Bridgend Town. Does seem brighter though.

And it was a Sunday afternoon

The legendary comedian Tommy Cooper was born in Caerphilly despite sounding as he'd lived in the East End all of his life. His act was a show of deceptive simplicity when in fact it was extremely clever. This is the statue to remember him in his home town which was unveiled by Sir Anthony Hopkins.

Just Like That

And it was time to go. Burger King aside it had been an enjoyable day.

All together now....ahh

Until the next time.

The Novel As Treacle

Hello there, Hope you're feeling well today.

As a lifelong reader I always feel obligated to read a book from start to finish. Never felt the urge to skip bits here and there. It's a feeling I've only had with books. With TV I'm been happy to change channel/fast forward where applicable and as a father I've learnt that cinema seats are surprisingly comfortable places for an afternoon nap

(Mind you that doesn't work if you're in the dating stage of your life. I remember a date where the choice of film was between So I Married An Axe Murderer and the one my date wanted The Man With Half A Face starring Mel Gibson. Needless to say she won. However it was the sort of film so monumentally dull that you looked at the time expecting it to end only to find that only half an hour had passed. The movie was so bad that at the end she apologised. Needless to say we didn't become an item).

But books are different. Always to me.

The trouble with this is that when reading a book that you don't like does not become a pleasure but a chore. Though with most the realisation does not come immediately it just creeps up on you. Slowly,insidiously like ageing.

You may have noticed that it has taken me a long while to finish The Memory Keeper's Daughter by Kim Edwards. It's of course partly because I've four books on the go but also, as I think you've guessed by now because I was not a fan.

Now before I go on there are two things that I need to say. Firstly there is a major character in the book who has, for want of a better phrase, a medical condition (there is another minor character later on with the same condition), Nothing I'm going to say should imply mockery of this. Indeed this characterisation was probably the best thing about the book. Pity I can't say the same about the rest of them.

Secondly (as hinted above) I'm being deliberately vague about the plot as to not spoil it for the future reader. I am, after all conscious that my opinion is probably a minority one and future readers should make up their own minds.

As I mentioned when I started this book I thought that having read and liked books by writers such as Francoise Sagan and Edna O'Brien emotional books were no longer beyond me. Well was wrong about that. For this was emotional as in Made For TV emotional. If this novel had a soundtrack it would have extra violins. If this novel had a free gift it would have the strings it intended to pluck your heart with.

This book was leaden with weight of the dramas it slowly (and I mean slowly) placed upon the reader. It was about a quarter of the way through that I felt that I was wandering in the syrupy stuff.

From early on then for me the unbelievable situations were combined with the unbelievable characters (the exception noted above) and when a writer is unable to suspend the reader's belief in what they are reading then the magic of a book is lost.

So a new book needs to be picked. This was the one I chose.

A4 - Digging Up The Past - Sir Leonard Woolley

This is a vintage Pelican paperback which advertises itself as "An Introduction To Archaeology". Whether it will inspire me to get my hands dirty whilst looking for a pot a Roman invader lived in remains to be seen.

Until the next time.

In Which Waking Up Early Involves The EU Referendum,Baseball,Tea,Nodding Off, Taking A Late Bath And Round The Horne

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Despite the fact that I was working the afternoon/evening shift yesterday (Thursday). Despite returning home just after 10pm and not going to sleep until sometime after midnight, Despite not working today and so having no need of an alarm. Despite all of that I woke up at 3:30am.

I knew it was too early without needing to look at the clock. For although the days are longer the sky was still dark. It was no matter though. I was wide awake.

This insomnia has often happened to me. Suddenly for no apparent reason waking up and unable to go back to sleep again. I've been asked whether it's due to any worries. I know that's not the case. Whether feeling carefree or have been racked with burdens has made no difference.It's no matter though, since the introduction of the VHS recorder through to the present day DVR my routine remains unchanged. Make myself a cup of tea and look at some recordings I've done off the TV.

What to watch? That was easy. The wife had recorded an EU referendum debate for me shown yesterday but I wasn't going to watch that. Knew from day one that I'd vote to remain and that for me is that. At time of writing the result is too close to call, although the economic argument would appear to have been won by the Remain camp the Leave people seem to be focusing now on migration. Tapping up a fear that the United Kingdom will if it stays in the EU become a greater Bulgaria,Poland,Romania or of course Arabia. The thing is that even if the reality is a lot different all they'd need is the perception that that is the case and they have a powerful weapon in their hands. And they know this.

Of course that doesn't mean to say that the members of the Leave campaign are uncultured. Nigel Farage's favourite book for example is Dracula by Bram Stoker as it's about an illegal Romanian immigrant who creates havoc in Britain (not actually true to my knowledge. but I couldn't resist the joke).

Instead I looked at the list of baseball games to watch. Thirty seven. Obviously that would be my early morning viewing. The oldest was an April 15th clash between the Atlanta Braves at the Florida Marlins.

I've always liked baseball. Think it's because it can mix the spectacular of the Home Run and whether a player has reached a plate in time to the thoughtful like what can the pitcher throw to foil the batsman. The other thing about Baseball,and indeed American football, is that it shows up the notion that Americans are an impatient race. The programme I was watching (admittedly with highlights) was three hours long...and they were the highlights.

The Braves were a team described in the programme as "in transition". Which is normally TV code for "at the moment they're rubbish" (in the same they would describe a Sarah Palin speech as "stream of consciousness when they mean that she's talking gibberish). In the early stages of the game rubbish would appear to a very polite way of describing what you saw. The Marlins were three nil up and seemingly on the verge of making Braves lily livered.

However in the 7th inning something remarkable happened. After the Braves scored one home run the Marlins decided to change the pitcher. An action which seemed to have changed things for the worst. None of the replacement pitchers were as good as the original guy and the Braves began to score point after point ending the day 8-3 winners. The Marlins were booed by their supporters, something the Fox Sports commentators in this highlight programme failed to mention.

After that daughter was woken up and despite the normal teenage moaning got herself ready for school in a state best described as Thank God It's Friday.

I was alone then. Approaching eight in the morning with a third cup of tea in my hand and watching how France was in a state of crisis because of a strike at oil depots. I like a cup of tea. Thirst quenching,warm relaxing....too relaxing. Because I nodded off and only woke up again, when live TV was in Daytime rubbish mode. It was 9:30am.

It was time for a bath. In the longstanding world debate between baths and showers if you have the time then there is no contest. I am firmly in the bath camp. There are few things more relaxing and for me it comes into the list of life's quiet little pleasures. I listen to a radio programme I've downloaded on the tablet. Today it was Round The Horne the comedy show brimful of double entendres a la mode of the best of the Carry On movies. Saucy without being crude.

And then,then I did the cleaning I'd promised my wife (who was at work) I'd do. I did, but quickly. On return she knew this immediately. Really she is a loss to the intelligence service.

Ah well.

Until the next time.

In Which I'm Made To Wonder Why I'm Not Passionate About Paper Magazines, Another Shop Closes In Bridgend Town And How The Sight Of Police Puts Imagination Into Overdrive

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Today had to go to Bridgend Town to sort out a few things, Once these were done before returning to the car park went into the local ASDA to get some milk. But whilst there I saw this.

Seemingly nothing unusual but...

The thing is that last time I was there the entire aisle was full of magazines. Now however half of them have just disappeared. Some sort of print cull has taken place.

Now to put this into perspective there are about two other aisles crammed full of monthly and weekly periodicals. Still it was a shock. The effect of the internet strikes again.

But am I really bothered? Of course when I was a child comics (or as they are described now "graphic novels") led me to the delights of the book. My father used to give me a comic a day. He knew the point was that they made you want to read. Now at that time there wasn't the internet or a gazillion TV channels. So the distractions, especially when you are an only child were less (and to quickly digress try getting present day youth to think of a world where there are just three channels. They can't do it).

And for the record "back in the day" the American comics were generally better than the British ones. They had better stories, artwork and were in colour. Of the American comics I was a Marvel fan. My favourite being "The Defenders". A sort of left field version of The Avengers with super heroes like Daredevil and Doctor Strange in it.

As I grew older and magazines came into play and must be honest although of course I've bought some it was never on a regular basis. Before the internet I would read and just concentrate on whatever article interested me and skimmed the rest. What the web does is to enable you to target without having to wade into everything else.

Needless to say though I'm a man who collects miscellaneous I've never had the urge to collect magazines. To me they came and went. But now it appears some have permanently gone.

So in truth I lack the emotional will to fight for the paper magazine. Defending the traditional book is where my passions lie.

You may remember that I've chatted about Bridgend Town before. Specifically how the way the Labour council/National Assembly seem to have allowed it to decline through neglect. Well another shop has closed down.

It used to be a womens' clothing shop

Now of course I don't know the specific reasons for this closure. But all of these closures have a cumulative effect of damaging the town. Bridgend Town needs change. It needs a party that will think of the future and not wallow in the past whilst ignoring the present. That party is Plaid Cymru.

This evening went to collect my daughter from guides. I normally park in a turn off near the hall. But not today.

Police,My Camera,Inaction

Those cars in the centre of the picture are police cars. You see one police car and you think thy are responding to a callout. You see two and you think "major incident" "Where's the criminal?". 

A woman came out of the blue car and put something white on. I had visions of CSI Bridgend as she would be examining the crime scene wherever it was wisecracks at the ready whilst scrupulously making sure that she did not contaminate the crime scene.

It turned out to be a white cardigan as she walked away from the forces of Law and Order. Soon after the police left the scene as well.

One final thing I know it's not the season but I noticed this at ASDA's

the Sign Says "The Great British Summer"

But look at the sky. It appears to have emigrated from October to May. As for the phrase ad people like to use at this time "The Great British Summer". Well I remember The Great British Summer of last year.....what a day that was.

Until the next time.

In Which I Support Manchester United For The Day And Other Couch Potato News

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

I have cancelled my Sky Sports subscription now that the final West Ham/Boleyn game has come and gone. However there is about three weeks or so before the channels are taken off my screen and so I won't deny I've watched/recorded other things.But these have been football matches, and as it's the tail end of the season not that many at that.

With one exception.

Because after having made myself a cup of tea and porridge once I'd woken up yesterday (Saturday). I plonked my backside onto the sofa and watched a recording of the previous night's Natwest T20 game between Essex and Surrey. Cricket wise although I must admit it's normally a sport I'd rather follow on the radio the team I do follow is Essex. This is because when I was a child they would play a Sunday League game at Valentine's Park in Ilford near where I'd lived when (much) younger.

Of course many things have changed since then. For example 20/20 cricket didn't exist, and you didn't then have to wonder how a bank bailed out by the taxpayer is sponsoring a sports competition. Still, Essex is the team I support and so the early morning was spent watching the match.

Essex however lost. But despite the never knowingly undersold quality of Sky Sports commentary, done by people I suspect annoyed that they didn't have the Test Match Cricket gig, I'd lost interest well before that.Should've just stuck to watching football recordings.

The only piece of real energy today was I made a quick trip to Porthcawl for a bit of shopping and a quick trip to the library. The weather was grim, though Porthcawl can still give a good picture no matter how miserable the day.

Fifty Shades Of Grey

As hinted I've borrowed a new book from the library which is this:

The Three Degrees - Paul Rees

This is about the three Afro Caribbean players who started to play for West Bromwich Albion in the late seventies. Their experiences, including the racism which was (if you consider the bananas) literally thrown at them. It should be an interesting read.

Once all the Porthcawl stuff was done it was time to go home and get ready to become a Manchester United fan for the day.

Explanations for the unknowing are in order. At the end of the Premier League season West Ham had finished seventh. A situation which meant they had missed out of inclusion into next season's Europa League judged on that alone. Their only chance was if Manchester United,already in the competition having finished the season in fifth, won the FA cup that they were contesting that day against Crystal Palace. So it meant that yesterday I was like a lot of Manchester United fans in Britain, having never been to Manchester let alone see them play there.

It also meant that I would be watching an FA Cup Final and rooting for the favourite.

As it happens I've never hated Manchester United like other fans do. That goes for Chelsea and Manchester City too. I think it's because I'm old enough to remember when these teams failed. When they got relegated and the years of empty trophy wise.

(Incidentally speaking of the years of empty the best title of a football book ever was Manchester United Ruined My Life by Colin Schindler. Written by a City supporter during United's recent successful period and before the oil money transformed the blue side.It says everything about being a fan when things are not going well)

It doesn't mean I root for them normally (after all in most matches they are the favourite). It doesn't mean I'm immune to cracking jokes about them. It's just that there's no bitter bile that comes from my lips when they are the subject of conversation.

And as I'm rambling on the subject I don't have this hatred towards Millwall either that each others fans are apparently inserted into the DNA. To be honest I feel neutral towards them. A sort of Charlton Athletic state of being.

Tottenham come close. In recent years they've become really annoying. There's something particular about their chairman Daniel Levy that is really dislikeable. When there are shots him on the television during a game, he always looks as if he's about to produce a white cat whilst expecting the arrival of James Bond.

But of course ultimately, there's always Arsenal. I've a group of friends known since childhood from north London who have been rabid fans of the Gunners and have always sort to remind me of their successes and West Ham's failures. Remember one Sunday when I received a phone call gloating over some embarrassing Hammers defeat.For some reason - can't recall now - was in bed laid low by some bug so there was no way I could respond properly. So waited patiently for years until West Ham beat them and I rang them to gloat. I was ...ahem ...thirty five at the time.

I am a fifty two year old man now. But football,and only football has the capacity of turning me into a ten year old boy. When we beat Arsenal in the first game of the season just ended. I viewed it as the long awaited triumph of good over the forces of evil.

But anyway back to yesterday. There was one more match to see before my (temporary) team's game. I'd never watched a Scottish Cup Final Live before and having Sky Sports did give me that opportunity so I took it.It was between Hibernian and Rangers. The latter was recently promoted next season to continue their rivalry with Celtic. A confrontation I can now best describe as being like Cardiff and Swansea with added religion.

Spoiler alert: It was unquestionably the best thing I saw yesterday. Hibernian won 3-2. Thanks in no small part to Anthony Stokes. Apparently he's on loan from Celtic so I assume now that Rangers fans think that he was on an undercover mission to spoil their day. David Gray, their captain scored an injury time and you saw what it meant in his face  and the faces of players,the manager an the fans that the hoodoo of cup failure was now lifted.

Speaking of the Hibernian fans some of them invaded the pitch after the game as did a few Rangers ones. If the TV pictures were anything to go by the wringing of hands at the situation was mainly overdone as although I'm sure there were a few apes of either team it was mainly a case of the Hibs fans being drunk with happiness at their victory. It was the Hibernian manager, Alan Stubbs, who said it best. For when the Sky Sports interviewer tried to get him to condemn the situation he said though not condoning the pitch invasion he understood it. That's a man with a sense of perspective.

By the way Sunshine On Leith is probably the best football anthem ever. If you can watch on Youtube the scenes of the fans singing it after the team received the cup then do it. Your hairs will rise from the back of your neck at the emotion of it all

So to the FA Cup Final and time to watch my team play. Well the first half was, barring a few decisions from the referee Mark Clattenburg that helped United (what a fine match official he is), dull. Time travels fast in a football game when you're bored. It makes your mind wander as well to ask important questions. Such why did Alan Pardew the Crystal Palace manager wear a Triffid on his lapel? And why did the Captain of my team, Wayne Rooney,have a hair transplant when he seems to have settled for a hairstyle best described as US marine?

In the second half Palace, then much to my relief United scored. So by 90 mins the match had to go into extra half time.Then there was a long pause on the TV for about fifteen to twenty minutes whilst I went to have dinner with the other inhabitants of the house otherwise known as my wife and daughter. Unsure what my wife was doing whilst I was watching the football. Daughter was making a hat for her Design and Technology lesson at school and no, I don't understand what a hat has got to do with technology either.

Unpaused the first half of extra time was unmemorable other than for the sending off of Chris Smalling for a tackle more suited to Twickenham. In the second half though my team dominated the game and Jesse Lindgard scored an absolute cracker of a winner.

So my team had won by 2-1. But now it's Sunday my real team is now in the Europa League. So Manchester United ......thank you.

And as it's Sunday I suspect I'd better get acquainted with my wife and daughter again.

Until the next time.

The Joys Of Failed Tech (AKA Extra Time To Read)

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Now I have never said what my job is (and I won't, well not today anyway) but I've never hidden that it's not a glamorous one. However unglamorous though it is even my work is not immune to new technology in this digital superhighway world that we live in (though some of us, like me are happy to drive in the slow lane as lone as we get there in the end).

Yesterday (Thursday) new systems were meant to be installed in my workplace. I say "meant" as that didn't happen. The workplace was not operating for at least 1 hour before I arrived because some technical glitch. I couldn't do any work, neither could my manager as we watched a group of tech people try to figure out what hadn't happened, why it hadn't happened and then try to make what hadn't happen happen.

Now we all know that it's the super-nova-techie people who are slowly dominating the world. But once in a while it's fun to watch them in a panic.They have the tendency to huddle like meerkats trying to work out what to do and then disperse whilst chatting to someone else by mobile phone and headpieces. This is what happened yesterday. Tech departments were called, numbers/codes were being rattled out left right and centre and the screens showed all manner of It code pages and logins as they, in a mood best described as mild hysteria, tried to deal with the problem.

And eventually, it was half worked it out hoping that by today it will be fixed (that I'll find out later). The rest of the day things went back to normal (ie the old ...or is it current...system) was used. However they reached that stage after two hours. For two hours there was nothing to do. So I read, and finished a book.It was the one I borrowed from the library, A Big Pole In Our Goal. The autobiography of former Liverpool goalkeeper Jerzy Dudek.

Let me first say that in terms of it's style this is no different from most sporting autobiographies you will ever read. That said it was an enjoyable read mainly because of the things that attracted me when I saw it in the first place. After all can't off the top of my head recall another book in English of a Polish footballer. So It gives us an insight not just to how he grew up but his experiences in Poland which was to me interesting. This was also the case when he discussed playing for Poland.

That, coupled with his reminisces on his life as a top class professional player, problems when travelling/living abroad (remember that for him "abroad" meant Britain as well),bits about working with players, and particularly managers in his career that I didn't realise and the simple fact that goalkeepers are different meant this was an amiable book by an amiable man. I would recommend it.

Not sure exactly when I'll be able to go the library next. It might be tomorrow it might be as late as next Friday. We shall see.

Until the next time.

In Which I Go To A Rugby Game (But Football Is Not Missed)

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

I was on Twitter a few days back when I noticed a tweet announcing that the Mid District Cup Final was going to be today (Wednesday) at Pontypridd RFC's ground at 7:15pm. Wasn't working that day so I thought "Why Not"? It was only going to be five pounds entrance fee after all.

An early evening kick-off. A town I'd been to before so I knew the route and it would be a change from spending the evening sitting in front of the TV or the laptop (though that would happen later). I wasn't going to ignore football though oh no. The big match of the evening was the final of the Europa League between Liverpool and Sevilla but the plan was to ignore all chances of knowing the result and watch a recording on my return.

It was something I'd been looking forward to, if only because it had been a long while since I had the opportunity to see some live sport. Even though, as in this case, was going to be very much the neutral.

At a club level the top professional tier of Welsh rugby is far removed from the old cliches. Unfortunately for them that is no good thing. About the turn of the Millennium it was decided that there would be a "Celtic" league (incorporating Ireland,Scotland as well as later on Italy when it would be constantly renamed according to the sponsor)  limiting the number of Welsh teams without any prospect of promotion/relegation. So although there would be "Welsh" leagues underneath the big league a glass ceiling would remain firmly in place.

These professional clubs were meant to be powerhouses of the game in Wales. This however has not happened. The lack of promotion/relegation has caused a stagnation of the Welsh club game at the top level. Results taken as a whole have been awful in the now "Guinness" league  (best Welsh team was 5th, then 7th,8th and 10th this season - this is from a league of 12) and on the verge of pathetic at a European club level.

Furthermore fans in those areas that were disenfranchised from top flight rugby were, I suspect, expected to go to the closest of the four professional teams following the NFL template. This hasn't happened. If you look at matches on the TV you'll regularly see empty spaces. Purely off the top of my head, without any degree of research (ie going on Google) I could make the case that at a club level rugby is no longer the biggest sport in Wales. It's football.

However the match I was going to yesterday was never going to be stagnant. As it was between local rivals fighting for a cup and in whatever sport that means passion.Was looking forward to it.

The match was between Bargoed RFC and Beddau (pronounced Bather) RFC. I've never been to either place and I was ignorant of both teams and their chances.

I should mention that the journey from Bridgend to Pontypridd had some absolutely stunning views. If I had the time would have stopped and taken some pictures for you. But let me say yet again that given bright weather like yesterday's it's not difficult to pictures in Wales that would make the viewer think it was Italy.

Parked immediately behind the rugby as instructed by the attendant. Initially was worried but then I realised that the closer you are to the posts the less chance you have of getting your car hit (as what thankfully happened)

That close

My first action was to get something to eat and drink so I went to the bar and asked for a pie and coke. The pretty girl behind the bar asked whether I wanted the coke to be diet which was polite though given I'd asked for a pie academic. She also asked whether I wanted the pie to be warmed up. Not wishing to be assumed a wimp, though my natural default option is to be one I said no. This was a mistake, not only because it was disgusting but as I came out there was somebody walking to the game with a pasta salad.

I made my way to a good seat in the main stand. No way to guesstimate the crowd but was very high especially if you consider that it was many tiers below the top level and that it was a Wednesday night with a European football final on the television.It showed to me that rugby in Wales can still pull in the crowds if the people felt emotionally involved to it.

Incidentally I'd forgotten that the other Pontypridd RFC's ground was known as was "The House Of Pain". What a great name for a rugby ground. Says it all really.

Took one of the books to read during half time. I therefore claim to the first person ever to take a Kim Edwards novel to a Welsh Rugby Union game. Fame at last. 

Proof for the history books

And on the subject of that book you may remember that I sent an email to the American person whose New York calling card was used as a bookmark by its previous owner. Well unfortunately an automatic reply has come back saying that the email address "does not correspond" with any currently being used. It was always a long shot.

The Match Programme

And of course I knew that if I was bored during the game I could always lose myself in the view.

The View From The Stand

In the early stages of the first half Beddau dominated and scored a try subsequently converted. But for the rest of the half the possession was mainly dominated by Bargoed. Possession which they could not turn into points and as we all know, points means prizes. This seemed to be born out when Beddau added to the score with a penalty

Scrum Down - No Gloss In This Game

There seemed to be some interesting characters in this game. The man with the ponytail, the Bargoed Andy Carroll. Also there was the player with the hippy hairstyle who ran full speed at an admittidly padded post only to get up shortly afterwards. In Bargoed it appears even the hippies are tough.

In the second half though Bargoed's pressure finally tolled and they scored. The one moment in the game where a gap appeared in the Beddau line so wide it could be seen not just by the player who scored but also by us watching on the stands. However their joy was short lived as in a small space of time two of their men were sin binned for fouls and after the second one Beddau scored a try again but not the subsequent conversion.

The Sun Setting On Sardis Road

So down in points and for a significant amount of time players it appeared a miracle of Leicester proportions would be required. But Beddau would not score in this match again. Bargoed just began a relentless series of attacks that were repelled until about 10 mins or so when they were awarded a penalty try.

14-15 to Beddau, last few minutes and the game going down to the wire.

Not a dull moment

The last minutes seemed an eternity as the Beddau team fought doggedly to withstand further Bargoed onslaughts. And they did. Just mind. Very much just.

By the way if you want my vote for Man Of The Match. It'll be to the Beddau defence coach

So it ended with a one point victory to Beddau. It was the best game of club rugby that I had seen in a long while. It encompassed the best aspects of Welsh rugby. The heart,the excitement, the local support and it also showed what the top tier teams are losing and in some respects lost.

Beddau Celebrating

Thank you Bargoed RFC,Beddau RFC and Sardis Road...it was fun.

Thanks

When I went home I watched the Europa League match without knowing the result beforehand. And if you have not yet seen it. I won't spoil it for you.

I've finished The Fan by Hunter Davies. It was an enjoyable read and it is recommended though not if you're a younger reader as it'll probably have you confused and googling in frustration (Glenn Hoddle as England manager for example).

So there was a need for a new book to keep in the car and I picked this one.

Henry Cooper - H for 'Enry

For those who don't know Henry Cooper was a famous and popular boxer of the sixties and seventies. Who is often recalled nowadays as the man who nearly beat Muhammed Ali. This autobiography, done in snippets is a record of his eventful post boxing life which makes it an unusual read.

Until the next time.

Why Books Are Your Constant Friends,Tesco Appears Pro English In Wales And Some More Bridgend Town And Garden Updates

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

I was an only child and the thing about this is that you don't feel lonely because you're used to the situation but you do feel more bored as there is no brother/sister to battle with, Must admit as well that when I was younger when friends did come an awkwardness settled upon me as I didn't know what to do when they played with my toys.

But books have always been there for me. Taken me to places and worlds that nothing, not even television could do. I think also it kept me whole.

I say all of this because this evening I was outside a local church waiting for my daughter to come out of her Guides group. When I arrived there were a few parents there already.  Some were chatting amongst themselves, some were chatting on their phones, others were playing with theirs.

I however was reading a book. The Kim Edwards one as it happens.

And so whilst physically I was outside a Church  in a bright and slightly breezy Bridgend evening mentally I was in America in the late sixties and early seventies. Whatever the problems in my life (and we all have worries) there was a moment where I could forget them for a while.

Books can do that.

In Bridgend Town there are two specific shops selling Polish food and drink for the growing community in the area. A local petrol station is selling a Polish weekly paper and even the supermarkets have Polski products. And I get it. What I didn't understand was what I saw in a local Tesco today.

Why?

The red box contains figures from the English football team presumably to cash in on the European Championship. Now full disclosure here I do collect these figures (for reasons I won't bore you with today) but my collection is only (with one exception)  current and former players of West Ham.

But. This is not England this is Wales. Does Tesco think so little about Wales that it's happy to sell these figures to a nation that has also qualified to the Euros? 

Now Welsh figures are available in the store (though I didn't notice them) according to the website of the company that sells them (http://www.soccerstarz.com/national-teams/wales/) but Tesco wouldn't sell a similar display for French or Italian national players so why is this being done for England? It would after all surprise me immensely if Tesco did a similar thing in Scotland, or Northern Ireland or the Republic.

The point is not an anti English one (after all that's what I am) rather a pro Welsh one, I remember other examples. There was a poster some English stars in a World Cup that the local W H Smith tried to sell. It gathered dust for years.

Wales is a proud nation. What it should not be considered is as an extra opportunity to flog official products of a sporting rival. A rival I should point out who will be playing them in the same group in the forthcoming Championship

More Bridgend Town news here are some more closures. Now when they were closed I'm not sure.

Example One

Now the shop on the right has relocated to somewhere else in the town. Unlike the next example.

There are relocations and there are relocations

This shop has relocated to Cardiff Bay. So the local area has lost out again.

This next example has been closed for a while. But just look how everything is almost literally crumbling.

Closure breeds decay

And finally the fact that the garden has been finally cut has brought back the birds looking for food now that the jungle has disappeared. Including this one.

Big

It was as big as a kitten. Trust it's not an omen.

Until the next time.