The Silk Merchant’s Daughter

 

The Silk Merchant's Daughter by Dinah Jefferies.

We met on 8th August to discuss it, and for once our stars aligned and all ten of us were present!

We agreed that it was an amazing and captivating story, historical fiction maybe but we all learned a lot about French Indo-China in the early 1950s. Our average score for the book was 8 out of 10.

The book is set in Hanoi, Vietnam, in the early 50s and focuses on Nicole and her struggles with identity and belonging. With a French father and a (late) Vietnamese mother, Nicole has inherited her mother's looks so she is often called "métisse", something that makes her feel uncomfortable and out of place. Her older sister though has their father's looks and seems to be the preferred daughter. Nicole's self doubts only increase as the story unfolds and Vietnam becomes a very dangerous place. The French government is loosing its power as the nationalist Vietminh gain power and support. And soon, Nicole finds herself having to decide which side she is going to support.

Between all this turmoil, there's also space for romance. Early in the story, Nicole meets a dashing American that makes her heart flutter. But he seems to have many secrets and a special connection with her sister. So when an enthusiastic and persuasive young Vietnamese enters her life, she must decide, once more, which life she is going to choose.

The Silk Merchant's Daughter is a story with many layers. There's war but also love, betrayal but also forgiveness, doubts but also certainties. It captures perfectly what it means being part of two completely different cultures but not belonging to either. It's something that has made me think a lot and I'm sure this story will stay with us for a long tim

 

 

 



 

August Walks

 

Gower

 

As we drove from the main road to the car park ½ mile north of the Heritage Centre just past Parkmill, the heavens opened. Luckily it stopped as we parked and remained sunny for the rest of the day. We walked south down the road and across the main road to pick up a footpath following the valley to Three Cliffs Bay. Sandy paths meander along a stream, passing the ruins of Pennard castle and Pennard Burrows. Rather than go onto the beach we turned west through the dune system and saw lovely views of the Bay.

Heading northeast we crossed the road again and walked over a grassy area towards Long Oaks. The footpath here wasn’t signed and we checked with a local that it was where we thought, as it goes through a garden. A lovely garden too with a homemade dolmen, large pond and weeping copper beech tree as well as a ladder stile into the farm next door. This stile had obviously not been used for some time, the rungs were in good order but the top was rotten and the other side was totally overgrown. Having successfully beaten our way clear, we soon arrived in a field damp underfoot and containing a small herd of horses. Soon the countryside was very similar to the Vale of Glamorgan; we commented that you’d never know you were in the Gower – it could be anywhere in South Wales. We continued north and joined the Gower Way before reaching Cillibion.

The Gower Way is a 35 mile route inaugurated in 1998 by the prince of Wales. It runs from Rhosilli covering the length of the ancient lordship of Gower and ending inland at Penlle’rcastell. 50 way stone markers, inscribed with the Gower Society logo and individually numbered line the route.

We stayed on the Gower way until we turned east about ½ mile north of Cillibion through Cillibion plantation and onto a road at Llethrid bridge. A London bus bedecked for a wedding passed by as we crossed the road and took a footpath through Park Woods. This proved heavy going at times and we were relieved when we joined the main track. Emerging into a more open space we found a restored burial chamber. Now we walked into the campsite near which we had parked. At 10.30am there was hardly anyone around but now there was a substantial scout camp with lots of other people spread around the site which seemed to have very limited facilities.

We changed out of our boots and drove down to the Heritage Centre for welcome refreshment. At the end we had completed 8.5miles and 800ft. Map OL13.

 

 

Skirrid Fawr

We parked in the National Trust car park at the foot of Skirrid and as we set off the first few drops of rain started to fall. A well defined footpath leads in north and north easterly directions up Skirrid, the last outcrop of the Black mountains. You pass through Caer wood and skirt Pant Skirrid wood coming out onto the open hillside. Climbing along Beacons Way, we separated as the fitter people got ahead, and before long were drenched by torrential rain, hitting any bare skin like needles.

A lady wearing trainers, T-shirt and trousers (no waterproofs) passed us at a good speed, followed not long after by a man, similarly clad, and a dog. The rain plastering their clothes to their bodies. Having donned our waterproof trousers we continued and met the lady coming down with the man’s dog. That’s strange we thought! The lady had had a hip replacement 6 months earlier and walked up Skirrid daily as rehabilitation! Her husband and dog were accompanying her at a slower pace.

Looking back we could see the sun over the Bristol Channel and crossed our fingers that it would catch up with us by the time we got to the top. It did. In glorious sunshine we walked through the stone jambs that mark the entrance to St Michael’s Chapel on the summit (the chapel has totally disappeared). We had 360o views of the surrounding hills bathed in threatening black clouds, heavy rain (in England) and a scattering of sunshine. Dramatic! And definitely worth the climb.

Our route now took us east towards the Arwallt, a steep drop and then we were crossing moor land, the remainder of the walk being generally flat. We turned south east towards ’The West’ (of England presumably) and south west towards Llandewi court. On the lower slopes of the Skirrid we could see ‘LIONS‘ cut into the landscape. A road sign on a lane stated ’Wrong Way for Walnut Tree’. I guess there had been a few mishaps.

Continuing south we turned east at Pen-y-flos-goch, towards The Court, then south to Great Blaen-coed. We spent some time on this stretch trying to find our footpath which had been blocked and diverted but with no new signposts, the stiles were not maintained very well either and we got frustrated at times. There was a good example of a gypsy caravan though. Now we turned west towards Green Moors and northeast towards Pontgarreg farm and hence along the road to Brynygwenin, back to the cars. A 6.9miles walk and 1300ft. Map OL13

 

 



 

June Books Review

 

 

We had no set book this month, so we all chose a good read, some very successfully, others not quite so.

The one 10/10 was by Rohinton Mistry “A Fine Balance” – an exceptional novel about India during The Emergency. (We as a group had read this author’s “Family Matters” and had loved it)

Several highly recommended 9/10s:

 “Four Seasons in Rome, On Twins, Insomnia and the Biggest Funeral in the History of the World” – a delightfully funny memoir by Anthony Duerr (chosen because of the group’s recent unanimous admiration of Duerr’s novel “All the Light we Cannot See”).

 “The Golden Hill” by Francis Spufford – rich in language and history. Compulsively readable.

 “Exposure” by Helen Dunmore – a spy come love story. Thoroughly enjoyable.

 “Human Croquet” by Kate Atkinson – a gripping surreal mystery. Wonderfully written.

 

A 7/10, and recommended.

 “The Reader on the 6.27” by Jean Paul Didierlaurent- a very enjoyable quirky read.

 “Murder at the Vicarage” by Agatha Christie – part of a mammoth task to read all Christie works. Enjoying so far…

 

Not quite such successful choices were:

 “The Power” by Naomi Alderman – (science fiction) not particularly enjoyed, nor recommended .

 “Death of an Avid Reader” by Francis Brodie – not enjoyed.

 

We return to concentrating on one book next month.

 

 



 

July Walks

 

Circumnavigation of Partrishow Hill

We started in Llanbedr on a sunny and humid morning, parking near the church and walking a short stretch of road to turn right onto a river side footpath . We climbed in a south easterly direction and followed a path across the road at Gudder, travelling east parallel to the road through Dyffryn which we could see below us. After reaching Llwyn-on we turned left onto a road towards Pen-y-bair. At this point many of us realised that we had been lulled into false expectations by the walk description thinking that circumnavigating a hill would be easier than climbing it. True we were going around the hill but places en route were higher than Partrishow hill!

At Pen-y-bair we turned north towards Partrishow crossing a small stream. We came upon a holy well where people had left offerings and soon after arrived at the remote mountain church of St Issui, Partrishow. Knowing that we had a climb ahead of us we took a short stop here and found a Duke of Edinburgh group with the same idea.

St Issui was a 6th C saint and this church was dedicated to him in about1060.The inscription on the font(circa 1050) reads ‘Menhir made me in the time of Genillin’. A figure of ‘Time’ on the wall is a skeleton bearing an hourglass, scythe and spade. There is also a beautiful oak Catholic rood screen dating from 16thC, one of the finest in Britain.

After some light refreshments we set out to tackle the hill which would take us to the highest point of our day, taking a path that led us towards Crug Mawr(550m). After touching the trig point we relaxed over lunch admiring the 360o views. It was amazing, the day was so sunny and clear it was as if we could see forever. Lunch was slightly longer than usual to allow us to enjoy peace and quiet of this special place.

Now we headed along Blaen-yr-Henbant continuing in a south westerly direction and skirted the next hill at 498m before starting to lose height quite quickly as we turned south towards Hen Blant. From here we followed a stream for a while and descended to Llanbedr village. Here we crossed the Grwynne Fechan river and returned to our starting point.

A lovely walk, with good paths, on a glorious day we had enjoyed fantastic views of the surrounding hills, including Sugarloaf, almost all day and walked 8.2miles and 1550ft. Map OL13

 

 

The Llanfrynach Horseshoe a Wenvoe walkers sponsored walk in aid of prostate cancer

As this was a sponsored walk we were promised sponsorship and paying to participate. Five people set out from Llanfrynach but a 6th person joined us later after watching the Lions play the All Blacks. We parked as recommended outside the public toilets, provided by the local community they were spotlessly clean, supplying not just soap and water but also hairspray and air freshener in the Ladies. The village itself is very pretty – full of small terraced cottages with pretty front gardens.

From the off the route was uphill, south along the along a lane then after crossing a stream we headed up the hillside in a south easterly direction, at this stage it was pretty steep! We crossed Clawdd Coch, followed a path which kept us below the top of Bryn, and proceeded along Gist Wen in a south westerly direction.

Luckily the weather was excellent for walking – warm (about18oC) but with a good breeze to keep us cool as we climbed. Once we reached the ridge we could see cloud clinging to the tops of the mountains, Pen y fan occasionally coming into partial view as the clouds shifted.

Continuing to climb we came to a junction of paths, Gist Wen meets 3 other paths – Graig Fan Las ahead, and 2 others heading east and south west. All of a sudden we were amidst several groups of people and then as we proceeded south west, we came across a sign ‘Brutal Events’ and saw many more people going in the opposite direction to us, including one man who looked as if he was on his last legs. Talking to some of them we discovered they were on a 50 mile walk!

Passing along Craig Gwareu we crossed the Beacons way and our path gradually turned to a northerly direction past Craig Cwm Oergwm and on to Fan y Big (719m).

At times we were surrounded by cloud which wafted away to give beautiful blue skies and then came back, occasionally shielding us from the sight of a steep drop. The paths were excellent, having been reinforced with stone to protect the surrounding land.

Continuing Northeast the route took in Cefn Cyff, the going was easier as we started to descend. Clouds dispersed and the views were clearer but still extensive. As the gradient increased across grassland at least one person (me!) adopted a zigzag route to save their knees. We used a short stretch of road at Rhiwiau and then resumed our north easterly progress back to Llanfrynach via Tynllwyn and Maesderwen, walking through fields of long grass. We thoroughly enjoyed our refreshment at the local hostelry and sat for longer than usual recovering from quite a hard walk. At the end we had completed 10.5 miles and 2200ft. Map OL13.

A big Thank you to everyone that sponsored us £500 was raised for prostate cancer.

WENVOE… A GLIMPSE FROM THE PAST.

 

 

This account that follows was sourced by Lucy Case in 1990 when she was undertaking coursework for one of her A Levels. It tells of childhood days in Wenvoe by Mrs Florence Maud Shelley nee Thomas of Holton Way Cottage in St Andrews Road, Wenvoe, and reminds us of days long gone by.

Parry Edwards provided this introduction: "She was born on the 26th September 1904, and was the youngest daughter of Benjamin and Mary Thomas. It is a fascinating read of a time when the Wenvoe Estate looked after its tenants and workers in most things in their lives. She refers to Lady Jenner of Wenvoe Castle, this is Mrs Laura Jenner, the widow of Captain Jenner who had left her the Estate on his death in 1881. There is reference to "Old Julia" of Ty Pica Farm; this is in fact Miss Gertrude Jenner, who was the sister in law of Mrs Laura Jenner at the Castle. When she wrote this account, she had in mind her audience of school children of Wenvoe Church in Wales School, unfortunately she did not include a date when this took place. It is from accounts like this that the past is brought to light in ways that Mrs Shelley could not anticipate. Help is acknowledged from the 1911 Census and the 1939 Register"

Mrs Thomas's recollections:

Before I married, my name was Flo Thomas. I was born in 1904 in the same house as I am now living. The house now being over 200 years old, was one of the cottages built for the working people of the Wenvoe Castle Estate. In those days, the cottage was thatched, but this has now been replaced by a slate roof and has an extra two rooms built onto it. My parents and grandparents lived here before me. My father was one of the Estate workers.

The cottage is named Holton Way, and at the time of it being built, the crossroads, now known as St. Andrews Cross, was originally Holton Way Cross. This was altered when the new main road was built from Cardiff to Barry in the 1930s.

I attended the old Wenvoe school, and had many happy days there. We had three teachers; Miss Clarke, who came on her bike from Barry every day, Miss Jones was our head mistress and a Miss Jones was also our teacher, so they went by the name of big Miss Jones and little Miss Jones.

Sunday was always Church day. I went to Church with my father in the morning, Sunday School after dinner, and then Church again in the evening, with both my parents. Mr. Jenner was our Rector, he was also a cousin to Lady Jenner. There was always a good congregation in Church. In our house on a Sunday, we dare not bring out our knitting or have a game of cards, or father would ask us if we knew what day it was.

With my brothers and sisters, we were a family of eight, and in those days, it was all work and very little money to spare for any luxuries. I was the youngest of 8 children so faired much better than my brothers and sisters. Our

pocket money was a penny a week, but if I could scrounge a half penny from my dad or my brothers in between, I would have a treat and buy a stick of everlasting or licorice.

At week-ends in the summer, we had the usual cricket match at the Playing Fields, where all the village turned out, and we knew all the players and all the children would be down there, and after the players had all had their tea in the Pavilion, we would be asked in to eat up all that was left. That was great. When the cricket team played away, they would go in a horse drawn brake, and my father would accompany them as one of the supporters, and when they returned, they would have had a good drink and all be a bit merry, and always they would be singing. Their favourite songs were Farewell my bluebell and Little Brown jug don't Ilove thee. That night I knew my Mum would be cross with my Dad when he came home.

As school children, at Christmas, all the children of the Estate workers were marched up to the Castle for their presents from Lady Jenner, which consisted of a Little Red Riding Hood cape for the little girls, and a cap for all the little boys, and then we had to put them on and march back to school. It really was a sight, and we were all so proud. Whenever we met Lady Jenner in the village or on our way to school, we had to curtsy to her and should we not do so, she would be round to our parents, then it was "look out!"

Lady Jenner had very sharp eyes and did not miss a thing. I remember once, an aunt of mine sent my mother a lovely wine colour coat to be altered to be made to fit me. A lady in the village by the name of Mrs. Giles Cannon made it up for me at the cost of 2/6d. It had pearl buttons on the front, and I thought I was it, but when Lady Jenner saw me in Church on Christmas morning, it war, not long before she paid my mother a visit to say she did not think we needed any more Christmas parcels if she could afford to dress me like that. Little did she know where it had come from, but we survived.

Christmas to us was very exciting. In our stocking would be an orange, an apple, some nuts, a sugar mouse, a sugar watch on a string, and if mother had saved a few shillings for extras, we might have a sweet shop or a game of some sort, and if very lucky, we might get a doll. How different times are now, but we were content with what we had, and I am sure got a lot more enjoyment out of these simple things than the children do today.

When I reached 12 years of age, my school days at Wenvoe Village ended, and this meant a long trek to Cadoxton School in Barry. No such thing as school buses in those days. There were 8 of us, and we would walk there and back each day. Can you see the children doing that now? But we did have fun. Before the new road was built, the old road was very narrow with high hedges each side. If we were ill, our parents would need to borrow the farmer's pony and trap to go to the doctors in Dinas Powys. We did have one doctor from Penarth who used to come on his bike, but he was so slow, you could have died before he got here!

Wenvoe in those days had one school, one Church, one Chapel and one public house, which I remember was kept by a Mr.Graham. The bungalow on Walston Road called the Old Forge was the village blacksmiths and across the road next to the Church Hall was the wheel wrights workshop. We children would gather at the blacksmith's after school to watch all the horses being shod.

Then close by, was the old village pump and well, where people used to get their water. We were not so lucky being in St. Andrews Road, as my Dad had to carry water from two fields away where there was a well, and that we had to carry for all our uses. I have often seen him come home with one bucket of water and one of mushrooms. He did a few journeys to that old well. Our baker came with the bread from Llandaff twice a week, and a butcher and a greengrocer also called twice a week. We could get groceries in our little shop which was expensive. So every weekend, I would walk with my mother to Barry, and she would stock up for the week. This was a big treat for me. We would then trudge home with our heavy loads, but I did not mind, as that was the day Dad would give me a shilling, and I would get 2 comics and some toffees.

The house opposite the Church was called Woodside, and this is where Mr. Thompson lived with his family. He was the boss over all the Estate men. Then, in The Laurels, the Under Agent, Mr.Cox, lived. Most of the men of the village then worked on the Estate, and the other village men worked in the Whitehall Quarry. My Dad was paid £4 and 10 shillings (ie 50 new pence) a fortnight. All the workers had one concession. If any of their family died, your coffin was made in the carpenter's shop and you would be carried to Church by the Estate men, so we did not have to find £600 like they have to today in the 1990s.

There were very few houses around us. There was the Vishwell Farm, the Garn Farm and Burdens Hill Farm, and the Lodge where the head gardener of the Castle lived so we did not have many near neighbours to quarrel with. All the Estates in the older days had a house nearby built for the gardeners, and their apprentices, to live in. This was always known as The Bothey, and still is to this day. The Bothey for the Wenvoe Estate is still on the drive leading up to the Castle. One of my sisters worked as a chamber maid at the Castle, and eventually married one of the apprentice gardeners from The Bothey, and after his training, moved as Head Gardener to the people who owned the Estate where the very famous Florence Nightingale lived. I'm sure your teachers have told you about Florence Nightingale. I remember the night when part of the Castle burnt down. Everyone was out of their beds that night. It was all hands on deck.

 

(continued next month)

 

 



 

WENVOE RAILWAY TUNNEL

WENVOE RAILWAY TUNNEL

 

The Barry Railway Company was built to release the stranglehold of the Taff Vale Railway (from Merthyr Tydfil) and Cardiff Docks on the export of south Wales’ coal. Work commenced in1885. Building with great efficiency Barry docks soon overtook Cardiff in exporting coal. This impressive achievement, in no small part, was due to the rapid completion of Wenvoe tunnel build. It formed part of a substantial rail network including several branches and an 18½-mile main line from Trehafod to Barry docks. Included in this was a double-track line 1,868 yards at

Trehafod to Barry Dock

Within four years, the company ran the first scheduled train through Wenvoe tunnel in1889.

Access via Culverhouse Cross

A dated stone – 1888 – above the north portal is covered in moss enclosed in a concrete building at Culverhouse Cross Retail Park – just short of Tescos – so beware when pushing a full trolley! Access is reached from Marks and Spencer car park.

Just over one mile long

The tunnel is brick lined except for a short section at its southern end where a change in geology occurs Towards its centre is a single ventilation shaft, also brick lined, almost the full width of the structure. The top of the ventilation shaft is close to the loading bay of the PC World retail park. The height of the original shaft was reduced during the construction of the retail park. The tunnel ends near The Alps on Creigiau Lane. It is a shade over a mile is one of the longest in south Wales.

The map below shows the tunnel line

Fatality

Inevitably for early industrial times, there were many accidents and fatalities. One such fatality was reported in Barry Dock News, March 4, 1892. The news item reported ‘The shocking railway fatality at Wenvoe’

End of the line

Sadly trains through the tunnel ceased when it came to a premature closer on 31st March 1963 due to a fire north of the tunnel. Since then, it has become home to a large water main supplying Barry. Junk rests on the tunnel’s floor, not helped by flooding, with waters reaching a depth of four feet after heavy rain.

Royal Train

To end with a little known story: it is recorded that Royalty used the tunnel during the Second World War. If the King and Queen were on a visit to the area the Royal train remained in the tunnel to keep them safe from night-time air raids (rogernewberry.com).

Brenig Davies

 

 

 

No Time for Goodbye by Linwood Barclay.

 

No Time for Goodbye is a "thriller" novel written by Canadian author Linwood Barclay.

Married and with a daughter of her own, it has been twenty five years since her family vanished without a trace but Cynthia Archer has never given up hope that they might one day all return and, as a result, has not been able to bring herself to move out of the town that she grew up in. Just in case. When a reality television show offers to go over the events of that fateful night, taking Cynthia back to her childhood home, she jumps at the chance. What if a television special jogs somebody's memory? What if her parents and brother are still alive and see it?

When the show airs and nothing more than a few cranks and side-show freaks come out of the woodwork, Cynthia begins to give in to despair. Then the 'messages' begin to appear, followed by strange phone calls and the feeling that she is very definitely being followed. Is this just a strange coincidence or could someone know something about that night? Is there someone shadowing Cynthia and her family or is she just so desperate to discover the truth, that her mind is playing tricks on her?

Points made by the group were:-

 This book does have some page turning quality, but any hint of excitement at the mystery unfolding was completely overshadowed by the terribly poorly executed and unbelievable narrative.

 There was no connection to the characters or their stories.

 The story is told by the husband, Terry and he is quite possibly the most uninteresting character. Dry, drab and monotone in his dialogue where any hint of feeling is executed in a cliche and considered fashion. There were points where it was exasperating because of the terrible writing, considering he was an English language teacher.

 What lies at the heart of the mystery is totally ridiculous and unbelievable.

 The tone slips. When Vince comes on stage, we move from creepiness to slapstick

 The reason the ending is surprising is because it's improbable not because it's surprising.

 

The storyline did, I suppose, have some merit as the book was finished by all members of the group despite the painful narrative. However nothing about it was actually believable. I understand thrillers often are not of the truthful nature, but I feel that no character was developed enough for the reader to understand motive or action. We only gave the book a 3 out of a possible10.

As usual we spent the remainder of the evening enjoying tea, coffee and cake provided by Helen.

 

 



 

Garway Hill

Garway Hill

The walk started in Kentchurch near a lodge gate and we were going to be following part of the Herefordshire trail, which meanders the Wales/England border. Nearby Kentchurch Court is a stately home which has been in the Scudamore family for over 1000 years. There is a deer park plus extensive gardens and which are open to the public during summer months. Ralph Scudamore (recorded in the area in 1042) is mentioned in the Doomsday Book, a Norman stonemason he was employed by Edward the Confessor to build the castle in Ewyas Harold.

Travelling north we passed through farm land. Two quite isolated glamping huts were on our route, each had a main hut containing sleeping and dining spaces, with a separate bathroom across a stretch of wooden decking. Surrounded by woodland they looked cosy and even had a BBQ area.

We spotted a vineyard, walked through a huge field of oil seed rape (gone to seed), a crop of peas and then the distinctive heaped up rows of a potato field.

Next we found an outdoor gym and one person volunteered to demonstrate his skills – particularly impressive when walking across narrow branches.

We arrived at a road and travelled along it towards Cross Llyde and Bagwyllydiart in an easterly direction cutting off a corner of the Herefordshire trail. Rejoining the trail we passed under Garway hill crossing Garway hill Common in a southerly direction towards White Rock.

At White Rock we turned northwest in the general direction of Kentchurch. We took in a view of the River Monnow where we passed a footbridge – a plaque in the centre of the bridge remembers Marius Gray, a chartered accountant, who served on the boards of the Daily Mail and a number of health charities he was made CVO in 2011.

An avenue of limes lined the road to a pet crematorium at Barton hill with a delightful stream nearby.

This was a relaxing late spring walk through lovely countryside. Views in this area are excellent the Skirrid, Sugar loaf and the Black Mountains are all visible from Garway hill and, even though we didn’t climb to the top, we enjoyed the panorama.

We had achieved 7¾ miles and 1100ft.

 

 



 

Llanbradach and Ystrad Mynach

Llanbradach and Ystrad Mynach

We started in Llanbradach on a cloudy morning, after a night of thunderstorms, but the forecast was for a dry day. We crossed the railway and climbed through the woods to the west of Llanbradach. On the side of the path were large benches made from stone, placed there by the Llanbradach Community Council some of them having dedications to late council members.

As we climbed further a mist started to surround us and then we entered the clouds. Fir trees, soaked from heavy rain last night, edged the path and brushed against us as we walked. Even though we wore gaiters, trouser legs were soon wet and to some extent our arms. Still it was pleasant to walk in the mist in warm weather.

Emerging onto the open common we found rubbish dumped in many places spoiling the area. A field of cows was invisible until we were very close to them but plants were clear – a lovely rowan in full bloom, and gorgeous yellow gorse and irises.

A wide track was packed with stones and after we’d walked a while we heard a lorry coming – it was bringing hardcore up the track and dumping it to lengthen the reinforced section.

Until now we had resisted putting on our waterproofs as we were sure the weather was improving and we’d soon dry out but suddenly the rain fell heavily so we put jackets on. Our route headed northwest across Nant Cwm Sarn. To the east there were slag heaps appearing and disappearing in the gloom, and then the clouds parted a little and we could see a pair of pyramid shaped hills.

The rain hadn’t eased off as we continued across the moor following a wall in the hope it would protect us a little. Water had begun to trickle inside gaiters and down into our boots as the wind blew harder. It was time to accept that the weather was set for the day and don our waterproof trousers.

Our path continued through a high sided green lane so we decided to stop and eat lunch while we had some shelter from the elements. We had passed our highest point of the day and looked forward to less climbing in the second half of the walk as we continued east towards Ystrad Mynach and then down the Rhymney valley back towards Llanbradach.

Unfortunately, the footpath down the valley was severely overgrown with brambles and bracken and after making slow progress we decided to try and climb above the blockage. This took a while but proved to be a good decision. We approached another green lane, access was again difficult but we climbed down onto it, now our way was clear and we made good time back to Llanbradach. At last we were below the cloud and could see the river in the valley and lakes which looked like fishing ponds.

We had walked 9 miles and climbed 1200ft. Apart from the overgrown stretch it was a good walk but the views, which would have been good, were totally hidden by the clouds an unlucky day but still very enjoyable.

 

 



 

MAX BOYCE ONLY KNEW HALF THE STORY..

MAX BOYCE ONLY KNEW HALF THE STORY..

BBC Wales has recently started showing a series of programmes about Wales in the 1990’s and I wondered whether it might be of interest to relate some of my own experiences of working in Human Resources (H.R) during that period?

You might remember the Wales Development Agency and how it set out to attract Japanese investment into the Valleys during the 90’s? In fact, Max Boyce referred to it in one of his songs: “…….me Welsh-speaking Japanee”?

At the time, it was highly desirable to be able to add employment by a Japanese company to your c.v and I was lucky enough (as I thought then) to be recruited by a Japanese investor setting up a “green field” manufacturing operation in the Gwent Valleys. I was the first Brit they had employed and it turned out to be a steep learning curve and culture shock for all concerned.

I’ll skip over the initial period of working from serviced offices in Cathedral Road and the commissioning, recruitment, training and general liaison with everyone from the Secretary of State for Wales to the local milkman and just list some of the idiosyncrasies which you might find thought-provoking…….

The four Japanese who had been seconded to the U.K to set up the operation had obviously not had any briefing about British culture or working methods and were expecting an autocratic management style to work as well in Wales as it did in Japan. What they had not expected was the wit and wiliness of the Welsh workforce, coming, as they did, from a steel-working area. This caused endless frustration and annoyance to all concerned at the time, but with hindsight was akin to being part of a Laurel & Hardy film.

The Japanese M.D spoke no English (we employed a dedicated interpreter and bought English/Japanese dictionaries to point to) and was about 5’ 4” tall – with all the characteristics usually attributed to a “little man”. These are some of his best moments:

It was expected that the workforce would wear uniforms of white jacket and trousers and a navy blue baseball cap. This requirement was honoured more in the breach than in the observance and caused the M.D endless concern. However, we “early joiners” were told that safety footwear was not to be worn until the rest of the uniforms had been supplied. The baseball caps were to be made of the cheapest available material but managers should require the workforce to wear them to protect their heads.

British employees were only to use the Conference room for meetings if they used the end without windows as the part with windows was only for use by the Japanese. Similarly, visitors must be seated with their backs to the windows.

The Security Company were not allowed to have a Master key as they could not be trusted and the (British) Engineering Manager –a keyholder for day-to-day security – was not allowed on site at weekends to perform any maintenance work unless a Japanese person was also present.

Individual elements of a cleaning contract were approved by the M.D but, once consolidated into a single document were rejected as being too expensive. In a similar episode, the M.D personally negotiated rates with a distribution company. Two months later, the British Production Manager was required to find savings on these rates. The Production Manager was not allowed to put machinery in the front 15 metres of the shopfloor so that the M.D could stand at the front to see if everyone was working. On another occasion, the M.D was caught hiding in a cubicle of the Ladies toilet as he was checking that nobody was loitering after their lunch break.

The H.R function was expected to “police” all this despite having been told that employees wishing to learn to use company computer spreadsheets (as part of their job) could do so after normal working hours but without pay. The Travel policy, outlining daily subsistence allowances was to be kept secret and a training course for machine operators on a new piece of prime manufacturing equipment (which cost £80,000 including training) was vetoed as hotel costs for the two trainees was prohibitive. I was actually told “we do not provide training as we are not a charity”.

Perhaps the most notable idiosyncrasy – and the one which finally convinced me that it was time to move on – was the edict that in order to reduce the number of defects detected in parts supplied by the Japanese parent company they were no longer to be checked.

The other side of the coin, however, was the gently subversive attitude of the Welsh workforce. By and large these alien requirements (in every sense) were met with tolerance and amusement and the rather bombastic approach of the M.D seemed to invoke what can only be imagined as being similar to the “blitz spirit”. The highlight was possibly the occasion on which the M.D – who had refused to grit the car park due to the expense involved – slipped on the ice and fell heavily. This caused considerable merriment and a very un-PC voice was heard to mutter “there’s a nip in the air this morning”

It was always “good value” to listen to the Valley employees in the canteen. At the time, John West were running a television advert featuring a cartoon bear. The (deadpan) conversation went:

Employee A: Did you know that Keith thinks the John West bear is real?

Employee B: No. Where is Keith, anyway?

Employee A: Writing to Santa

Other “gems” included:

When a flock of sheep wandered onto the site: “That’s Ceri’s girlfriend looking for him”

I had to drive home. I was too drunk to walk

John has had an outside toilet built for his new house. He thought it would be nice in the summer

“XYZ Ltd” has got 140,000 employees”. Pause. “Think of the queue in the canteen”

This was more than 20 years ago, now – but I’d be prepared to bet that the BBC’s “Wales in the 90’s” series doesn’t tell this side of the story….

 

 



 

1 32 33 34 35 36 39