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Nostalgia Trip #7: Leaving Wales
It’s time to leave Wales after our terrific few days here, and head to the Peak District on the final leg of this nostalgia trip. I (Phil) was born and grew up in Derby, so regular hikes in the Peak District were a regular feature of childhood. So far on this trip we have remembered two people who were very special to us and were significant influences on our respective lives, my Dad (Stanley) and Michaela’s Nan (Yvonne), both of whom passed away in 2018. Those two special people met each other just once, at our wedding in 2013, so this photograph itself is particularly special, capturing laughter at their…
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Nostalgia Trip #6: Llanon Memories
It’s about 50 years since my childhood trips to Mid Wales began, 50 years since my Nan and Grandad first bought a static caravan at Llanon on the Welsh coast. Perched on the cliff, overlooking the Atlantic sea, Cliff Edge Caravan Park holds wonderful memories for me, family holidays, fun and adventure. But more than this, the place for me and my Nan to form a special bond during our times alone there together. This rocky shore was my playground, rocks circling a pool created by monks way back when in order to catch sprats and other delights of the Atlantic. Prawning and picking shellfish off the rocks, cooking and…
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Nostalgia Trip #5: Ceredigion Coast, Wales And Dolphins
Waking on our first morning in Aberaeron is just idyllic. Our window at the Harbourmaster Hotel looks past the boats snuggled in the harbour to the cottages opposite, their multiple pastel shades reminiscent of Ireland and resplendent in the morning sunlight. The sound of mast ropes clinking in the light breeze is the only thing that breaks the silence as Aberaeron wakes slowly from its slumbers. Our first wander around town includes a short amble upstream along the banks of the Aeron which brings its own rewards. As well as the many woodland birds we spot a dipper feeding from the boulders and a vole scuttling across our path. There’s…
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Nostalgia Trip #4: Elan Valley And On To Aberaeron
To complete our time in Rhayader we take a pleasant pre-breakfast stroll along the banks of the Wye where wildlife is in abundance and the morning sunlight dapples through the trees. Colourful damsel flies flit amongst the foliage and birdsong is everywhere. Wherever you stand in Rhayader you are overlooked by the mighty Cambrian Hills, green and rolling and giving the town a feeling of independence, maybe even isolation, despite the traffic rolling through and negotiating the clock tower awkwardly placed slightly off centre in the main crossroads. We are again struck by what a terrific base for a walking holiday this would be, and again find ourselves discussing a…
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Nostalgia Trip #3: From Warwick To Rhayader
We have a time commitment to meet today so it’s necessary to take the earliest breakfast we can at the rather excellent Old Fourpenny Shop and head out of town promptly, although first there’s the strange business of fetching the car from its overnight berth. Strange because the arrangements are to park in front of the grandstand within Warwick Racecourse, and as I unlock the large iron gates to let myself in, two policemen sit in their squad car and watch my every move. “Why is that old git in a “Rebel Rebel” T shirt letting himself into the Racecourse?”, I imagine them asking. Heavy rain on the M5 soon…
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Nostalgia Trip #2: Warwick
Leaving Brownsover we avoid motorways and take the short countryside route via the appealing Dunchurch to our next destination, Warwick. So many visitors to England make Stratford-on-Avon a high priority; we have to say it’s their loss if they miss out on visiting the splendid nearby town of Warwick. Steeped in history, packed with gorgeous historical buildings, straddling the River Avon and boasting one of England’s most magnificent castles, any visitor would surely be thoroughly enchanted by Warwick. So why are we here on our nostalgia trip? My (Phil) parents moved here in 1979 and lived in the town for their remaining years, with Dad dying three years ago in…
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Nostalgia Trip #1: Barnt Green & Brownsover
Before we turn the metaphorical corner into memory lane, we spend good times visiting some of Michaela’s family in the West Midlands. The combination of our curtailed world trip and the effects of lockdown means we haven’t seen them in almost 18 months, so there is a great deal of feelgood in meeting up with her Dad, brothers and our nieces and nephews. Our base for this is the leafy village of Barnt Green, south of Birmingham and home to Michaela’s brother Andy and his lovely wife Claire. Barnt Green sits on the edge of the Lickey Hills which hold heaps of childhood memories for Michaela, so we take time…
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Our Next UK Tour: Nostalgia Trip
That’s the end of our music history posts for the time being, as we are now leaving on our third trip around the UK this year. There is no Cornwall involved this time, instead we will be visiting various places which play a part in our life histories, one way or another, evoking memories of some special people. A bit of a nostalgia trip. Today is the first day of June, the month we have previously earmarked for a decision on where and how we can resume travelling further afield to other countries. With a considerable lack of clarity still surrounding international travel in terms of where we can go,…
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Rock History & Me #3: An Affair With Caroline
The four of us sat at a small table in the college refectory, Cheltenham Charlie putting together another of his daft looking skinny roll-ups. “Can you actually taste anything in that matchstick?”, says John Mayes, aka Daisy. “Man yeah. My saviour” Daisy and Sylvo shake their heads and grin, Cheltenham Charlie drags on the tiny fag, oblivious. “They’ve put “Wardrobe” out as a single”, he drawled. “What? Really?” This didn’t seem right. Prog rock bands – proper prog rock bands – didn’t put singles out, it was unwritten law. Maybe Cheltenham Charlie had got it wrong. “Where’d you hear that shit?”, I asked. “Radio Caroline”. Until that lecture break at…
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Rock History & Me #2: Foxtrot
In the summer of 1973, glam rock was still in its pomp with the charts full of Chinn-Chapman productions and the TV screens bringing outrageous sequinned costumes and equally outrageous hairstyles into our living rooms. Each new release by the likes of T Rex, Sweet, Slade, Mud, Roxy Music and (dare we say it) Gary Glitter was eagerly awaited and then thrust immediately into maximum radio airplay. Best of all for me, I’d left behind the schooldays which I’d grown to despise and at 16 felt more than ready to be out earning a living instead of listening to the dullard individuals who called themselves schoolteachers. I felt a heady…
