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Published: April 25th 2006
It’s Easter Monday and I’m sitting comfortably on a National Rail train on my way back to London, reflecting on the lovely 4-day weekend I’ve just enjoyed in rural Wales. I’ve been visiting with Hazel, a long-time family friend who I lasts saw back in my home town Leeton, aged 12. Back then, Hazel was a 29 year old traveler living in Sydney and working in the Sydney office Dad was located in for much of 1989. Hazel came to visit us over the Easter weekend and I vaguely recall us driving her around Leeton and surrounds, showing her rice fields and wheat fields, sheep and farms, and farm machinery and irrigation channels. Cut to 2006 and this time it’s me, aged 29, living in London and visiting for Easter, looking at sheep and farms. The similarities were not lost on us.
I arrived on Friday afternoon in Hereford, a sizeable English town near the Welsh border - the closet to Hazel that was regularly serviced by rail. The journey was somewhat traumatic to begin with - having suffered an attack of several of my vices (tardiness, indecisiveness, over-packing, too much makeup) at once earlier that morning, I found myself
Hazel's cottage
Attached to the pink house. in a flat-out run to the train station which rendered my shower and meticulous grooming completely pointless and, while I’ll spare you the details, I arrived at Paddington station and on the train with less than 30 seconds before it pulled away. I dare say this time, finally, I have learnt my lesson - as well as the power of fear as a source of energy and motivator.
Despite not having seen Hazel since 1989, I felt confident I would recognize her (also rightly realized that the task would not be challenging as there’d be all of five people waiting on the platform). And sure enough, Hazel was there, still looking more or less like I’d remembered. A bit smaller, but quite possibly that’s because I had grown and filled out a bit too. And there began a catch-up on 18 or so years of life, which promptly commenced as we drove to the village of New Radnor, where Hazel had grown up and was her home since returning from Australia 14 or so years ago. It’s a tiny place nestled in a valley within a stone’s throw of lots of other tiny places, all in the county of
Hazel and Paul
Standing outside Hazel's place - Wayside Cottage Powys. Populated mostly by farmers or people involved with working at the local quarry, it’s the kind of place with one church, one general store that’s hardly ever open and one pub that’s always open. It also has a castle - or, rather, the motte where one once stood, surrounded by two deep moats. Here’s a link to a website that talks briefly about the castle’s history - it’s an interesting tale - http://www.castlewales.com/radnor.html .
Hazel lives in a small 3-room heritage-listed cottage that is annexed to a larger, fairy floss pink, heritage-listed house. Over the 12 or so years she’s had it, Hazel and her partner Paul have put a lot of energy and expense into doing it up and it was a modern, warm and very comfortable place - but still tiny. With Hazel, Paul and her two cats (to which I am uncomfortably allergic) it was just too small for me to stay there too (and with their home theatre set-up in the small living room, with giant wall-mounted
View of New Radnor
Across the valley is Old Radnor. As we were in New Radnor, I guess the Old part seemed redundant so we didn't go there. plasma screen TV, it would have been a bit like sleeping in a cinema). So Hazel sensibly and generously insisted I stay at the New Radnor Arms pub, just down the road. Once I got settled in my room at the pub, which I found charming and felt very welcome by the owners, we went for Indian food in a town 20 miles away, called Lemster (it is pronounced, but definitely not spelt, that way. Being Welsh, it probably is spelt more like Lcquyydd). Apparently it was a well renown Indian restaurant (which is saying something in the UK, as Indian restaurants are not uncommon) and indeed it was very yummy and well worth the drive.
The next day Hazel took me on a very long walk. Her cottage is located at the foot of the hill on which the castle once stood, about 1000 years ago, and we made the steep walk up on to the motte to get a look at the view of New Radnor before heading further up the hills. It didn’t take me too long to realise that Wales is very hilly, greeen, and covered in daffodils and sheep, and it is very pretty.
Another view of New Radnor
Looking in another direction from the motte. Despite the clouds and a bit of haze, the views were very impressive - as was the height above the valley to which we had clambered. By the time we returned to Hazel’s place, some four hours later, we were quite tired but after some lunch climbed into the car and Hazel took me to meet her family, who also live only a few miles away from her in various directions. Her parents have a farm with race horses (harness racing) and sheep and cows. It’s been a long time since I have been on a farm in early spring and seeing sheep giving birth in the pens reminded me of doing so on my grandparent’s farm as a kid (that is - watching the sheep give birth, not giving birth myself!). Back then I found the process curious but a little gross and I can’t say that anything has changed. As fascinating as a farmyard birth can be, I confess that stringy, bloody placentas and prolapsed uteruses are still rather yuck. We walked around a few fields and took photos of streams and little bridges and playful lambs and it was all very relaxing and fun.
That evening,
New Radnor Church
The chirch behind Hazel's place, as seen from the Castle motte after a yummy roast dinner Hazel sat me down with photo albums and showed me pictures of her travels in Australia, including those taken of her trip to Leeton to visit our family at Easter. I don’t remember much, but apparently we went to the Griffith Food and Wine Festival and I relentlessly pestered my parents for a glass of wine, which I eventually got. Perhaps that’s why I don’t remember much… Anyway, there I was in a photo, proudly raising my glass in a toast. (The following evening, as I was taking Hazel through my all photos I realized that, again, nothing at all has changed). Hazel has also taken up photography as a hobby/potential career change and her photos, particularly using infra-red film, were beautiful. She prefers landscape photography and had captured some wonderful images in her local surrounds, a few prints of which she generously gave me and which now sit on my wall.
Easter Sunday was a very low key day for us. Fueled by a few good bottles of red, I think I slept til practically midday (a necessity after being woken several times during the night by the guest next door who was
Radnor Castle
Or, rather, the big hill where it was first built, back in 1012... unquestionably the most violent snorer I have ever heard. It sounded positively painful. Even the walls shook in horror). Hazel and I went for a drive to a nearby town called Hay-on-Wye which is famous for its bookstores, of which there are literally dozens. It’s a Mecca for bookworms. We walked around and stuck our head in a few stores (including an awesome store that sold nothing but several hundred different types of jigsaw puzzles) before enjoying a yummy pub lunch and heading back to New Radnor where I slept a few hours more. That evening, after torturing Hazel with the thousand or so digital photos I’ve taken over the years and stored on my laptop, we headed back to the pub for a very late evening of chatting and drinking with the locals (well, as best I could given that the Welsh accent is even harder to decipher once booze has begun to interfere with the conversation).
And now it’s Monday, and I’m heading back to London. I feel very tired but relaxed, but Hazel looked a bit rough around the edges when I pulled away from the platform - can’t drink quite like she used to back
in Aus, hahaha!! Anyway, I’ve very much enjoyed my trip to Wales, the fresh air and scenery and the opportunity to catch up with Hazel. For years Mum and Dad have been promising Hazel that they’d come and visit, and I beat them to it. I didn’t have too much trouble understanding the accent of Welsh people and it’s only a few hours by train so I reckon I’ll be back in the not-too-distant future. Hope you all enjoyed your Easter too…
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Jill
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How green is that valley!
Thanks Cass. I almost feel as though I was there with you - would have been nice. Spring in the UK and Europe is such a contrast with spring here in AUS - Such vibrant colours absolutely everyhere. You're commentary is amusing and a pleasure to read. Thanks Again.