Penarth sunset

I moved house today so I am more than a little exhausted. You know what it’s like – several weeks of organising and sorting and packing, and now the unpacking and working out where to put things, except I don’t actually have any furniture yet. I’m writing this sitting on a box of books and tonight’s bed will be a mattress on the floor. Still, it will all be worth it, I think, and this view, just a 10-minute walk from my new home, will quickly become one of my favourites.

Grave matters: Celtic crosses

The elaborate knotwork of Celtic art has long beguiled me.

I have a lovely gold ring shaped in a knot pattern; I have a book full of charted embroidery patterns adapted from such exquisite works as the stone Crosses of Moone and Muiredach, the metalwork of the Petrie Crown and the Ardagh Chalice, and the incredible illuminated manuscripts of the Books of Kells and Durrow; and I have used simplified versions of these patterns in my knitting designs.

So, during my wanderings around the graveyard that sits adjacent to Llandaff Cathedral and through the extensive grounds of Cathays Cemetery, both here in Cardiff, I find myself attracted again and again to the many fine Celtic cross headstones.

This design is a combination of a cross, with a ring the surrounds the intersection of the two branches of the cross. Though usually labelled a Celtic cross, its origin is something of a mystery. Some sources claim it comes from the 6th century Coptic Church because it resembles the Egyptian Ankh (or key of life); others see its roots in pagan religions, with the circle symbolising both the sun and the eternal circle of life; while the Romans believed it developed from the draping of victory wreaths across the horizontal bars of crosses.

There’s also a popular legend that attributes St Patrick with the idea of combining the Christian cross with the Sun cross to create the Celtic cross, in an effort to convert the Druids and Pagan Irish to the new Christian religion. Whatever its origins, it was adopted by the Celtic tribes of Ireland, Scotland and Wales in medieval times, and is now most often associated with those peoples. It is also the official cross of the Church of Scotland.

In the mid nineteenth century, the Celtic cross became popular as a grave marker, often in conjunction with decorative bands of intricate Celtic knotwork. It was not only used for people of Celtic origin but also for the general public, so it’s not surprising to find many examples in graveyards dating from Victorian times.

All the photographs included here are of crosses I found in the Llandaff Cathedral cemetery. The structural designs, the complex patterns, and the construction materials vary but each cross is a work of superb craftsmanship and intricate beauty.

St Margaret’s of Roath: dragons and angels and monstrous beasties

Coming as I do from a relatively new country, I sometimes find the antiquity of places in Britain difficult to contemplate. On the site where the Church of St Margaret’s now stands, in the Cardiff suburb of Roath, Christians have been worshipping their God for more than 900 years.

Of course, the current church isn’t that ancient, but a Norman chapel once stood here. According to the church website,  

There was a chapel here – ‘the Chapel of Raht’ – soon after 1100, founded by the Norman Lord Robert Fitzhamon, as a Chapel of Ease to his Priory Church of St Mary in Cardiff. A little whitewashed building, thick-walled and low, served the needs of this ancient hamlet, inhabited since Roman times, and now, for the Normans, the home farm for the castle, its pastures supplying meat, fish, butter and cheese.

St Mary’s and its chapels were given by Fitzhamon to his monastic foundation of Tewkesbury Abbey, which provided clergy, wine and wax to the chapel of Roath until the Reformation, and in return received its tithes. The ghost of a long-dead Benedictine chaplain is said to haunt the church to this day!

The ghost was nowhere to be seen the day I visited, probably put off by the hubbub of the Heritage Weekend Open Day. The church was full of folk enjoying, as I did, the fascinating guided tour that was on offer, as well as parishioners trying to raise funds for the church through sales of jams and various bric-à-brac, and visitors enjoying tea and cake and a gossip about parish goings-on. Genealogists were buzzing about too, as the tombs in the Bute mausoleum were littered with facsimile copies of the parish registers for anyone to check for births, death and marriages.

The original mausoleum had been built in 1800, by the 1st Marquess of Bute for his family, in a building adjacent to the old church. His great-grandson built the current church, in the grand style of Victorian Gothic, between 1870 and 1873, and then a very grand north aisle chapel was added to the new building between 1881 and 1886 as the new mausoleum for the Bute family tombs.

It is an exceedingly ornate resting place, housing seven massive red granite sarcophagi (said to resemble those built for the tsars of Russia), which contain the bodies of John Stuart, the 1st Marquess of Bute, and his two wives, Charlotte Jane Windsor and Frances Coutts, as well as various other members of the Stuart family.

The church itself is not quite as grand as the mausoleum. It was designed by the architect John Pritchard, who specified that a wide variety of coloured bricks and coloured stone were used to decorate the internal walls, in red, blue, white, grey-green and pink. It is an unusual but very effective design.

As in most churches, the stained glass windows are beautiful, filling the interior with rainbow-coloured rays of light. The dates and subjects of St Margaret’s windows vary greatly, from an illustration of the Holy City from the Book of Revelation, dating from 1917, to the Ascension and the four patron saints of St Margaret’s daughter churches depicted above the altar, dating from 1952.

Behind the altar, the Reredos, which dates from 1925 and is by Ninian Comper, depicts the Risen Christ and his 12 Apostles. The central figure is made of alabaster, the others of gilded wood.

Being fascinated by architecture and architectural decoration, I found the exterior of the church almost more interesting than the inside. Take, for example, the carvings beside the original main entrance, which is only used now for weddings and funerals. The church is dedicated to St Margaret of Antioch, who, for those who don’t know the story, had a life-threatening encounter with the devil in the form of a dragon. Being a good Christian girl Margaret bravely confronted the dragon clutching her cross in her hand. The dragon found itself unable to swallow the throat-irritating cross, so Margaret was miraculously saved from death by dragon! This, then, is the reason for the little dragon carvings either side of the doorway.

To my eye, the church is not a pretty building, being rather a jumble of square and rectangular boxes. This impression isn’t helped by the church tower, which is square and squat – Prichard envisaged it would be topped by a spire but, sadly, that never got built. It would perhaps have bestowed a bit more elegance to the building. The current tower was designed by John Coates Carter, as a war memorial, and was only completed in 1926.

The angels high up on the north side and on the north-east corner are lovely adornments, and that corner also boasts a rather unusual conical turret, which doesn’t exactly fit with the rest of the structure but adds visual interest. My favourite architectural decoration can be found towards the tops of both the north and south walls, where there are lines of stone carvings, depicting the heads of various monstrous beasties.

Parts of the boundary wall that surrounds the church date from medieval times and the large, leafy trees look equally ancient. Though the graveyard around the church looks almost empty, it is actually full to capacity but, sadly, most of the headstones were removed in a totally misguided 1969 decision to ‘clean up’ the grounds. Whoever made that decision should be fed to St Margaret’s dragon!

Quaker’s Yard walk: Tramroads, viaducts and bridges

‘Anyone with a feel for our industrial heritage will experience a tingle in the soles of his feet throughout this walk’ writes author Gordon Hindess in his informative little book Family Walks around Cardiff and the Valleys (Scarthin Books, Cromford, 1992, p.57). As I am lucky enough to be out walking with the man himself, and his lovely wife Liz, I don’t have to settle for a feet-tingling experience – I am treated to a running commentary of interesting facts and figures about the route we are walking, much of which I would otherwise have missed.

We start and end our 4-mile walk in the tiny village of Quaker’s Yard, which takes its name from the 17th century Friends' burial ground by the main crossroads in the village. It’s a simple stone-walled enclosure, easily missed if you don’t know what to look for, particularly because, traditionally, Quakers don’t mark their graves with headstones.

Our route along the former Penydarren tramroad is green and leafy, with the River Taff babbling pleasantly below us. As Gordon tells me, this tramroad is where the very first steam locomotive to run on rails first hauled its load of iron ore and passengers from Merthyr to Abercynon way back in 1804. Though the tramroad has been closed for over a century, you can still see the rail support stones in some places. Regular holes in the stones and their positioning in a straight line along our trail are the tell-tale signs of the tramway.

We cross the Taff over a high bridge and then almost immediately pass under the dizzying 90-foot-high spans of the Goitre Coed viaduct, an impressive feat of engineering that has been carrying Taff Vale Railway traffic across the river here since April 1841. It comes as no surprise that this towering construction was designed by that master of railway engineering Isambard Kingdom Brunel.

Further along the trail we pass what’s left of two more lofty viaducts, their enormous stone supports now almost disappeared beneath smothering vegetation. At home, later, I find on the internet some old photos of these soaring structures, including one of demolition day on Alan George’s website – what a sight that would have been!  

Before re-crossing the Taff, we stop at a perfectly sited farmhouse, offering tea and cake – help yourself and leave a donation! – where I also make friends with a cute kitten sunning itself on a chair and, not to be left out, a handsome horse poking his head over the stable door.

Refreshed and recharged, we cross the Taff by the charming Pont-Y-Gwaith, a steeply arched stone bridge, built in 1811 to the design of architect William Edwards, to replace a wooden bridge which was associated with the nearby 16th-century ironworks (Gwaith is Welsh for works). Gordon spoiled my romantic illusion of this delightful place just a little by telling me that, when the bridge was repaired by the Mid Glamorgan County Council in 1993, it was rebuilt in reinforced concrete, then re-clad with the old stones from the original bridge. Still, it looks authentic, and at least it should be around for many generations of walkers to enjoy.

A modern subway takes us under the busy A470, then we turn left, passing over what remains of the Glamorgan Canal. For a hundred years after its opening in 1794, this canal served the Cyfartha ironworks in Merthyr. Now, it’s merely a weed-filled hollow, barely discernible as a former waterway.

Rather than follow the track by the canal or the single-lane road back to the car, we veer off to the right and climb steadily upwards on to the mountain ridge of Daren y Celyn. The ascent is well worth it as we are rewarded with breath-taking panoramic views in every direction. The coal-bearing hills roll away on all sides, rows of terrace houses hug the hillsides in the valley villages below, the blades of a wind turbine can just be seen revolving steadily beyond a neighbouring ridge top, and one distant hillside is almost completely covered in solar panels. The landscape tells a tale of industrial history, from the long-gone days of the underground coal mining pits to the modern methods of energy-production.

Continuing along the ridgeway, we scramble up the boulders and around a large gap on the summit of Daren y Celyn, the former quarry that once supplied the stone for the railway viaducts, now known to the locals as the ‘Giant’s Bite’. If you know what to look for – and Gordon does – you can see the remains of fossilised trees in the stones here.

Having soaked in the views and enjoyed the cooling breeze, we head down the side of the mountain, forcing our way through the thick bracken that almost blocks the track, before joining the country lane that leads us back to Quaker’s Yard. 

We have had a fascinating journey through the industrial heritage of this area, a heritage representative of many of the coal-mining valleys of South Wales, and a thoroughly enjoyable walk to boot. My sincere thanks to Gordon and Liz, for sharing their knowledge and for their good company.

Here be dragons!

Have you ever noticed that, although Wales is part of the United Kingdom, the country is not represented on the Union Jack? The crosses of St George (for England) and St Andrew (Scotland) and St Patrick (Northern Ireland) are all there but there’s no red dragon. If I were Welsh, I think I might be just a little insulted at this exclusion.

It’s not as if the fire-breathing beast is a foreign monster – the red dragon (in Welsh, he’s Y Ddraig Goch) that appears on the current Welsh flag (also called Y Ddraig Goch) is actually derived from a royal badge used by the British kings and queens since Tudor times.

So, why a dragon? Well, it seems the true origin has been lost in the mists of time. The sometimes dubious Wikipedia makes mention of the red dragon being the emblem of ancient Celtic leaders, including the legendary King Arthur – the name of Arthur’s father, Uther Pendragon, translates as Dragon Head. Another source dates the dragon to Roman times, with ‘Romano-British soldiers carrying the red dragon (Draco) to Rome on their banners in the fourth-century’. The earliest historic record comes from around AD829, from the Historia Brittonum, a history of Britain by Nennius.

King Henry VII incorporated the red dragon into his coat of arms, as recognition of the fact that he and the other Tudor sovereigns, who reigned over England from 1485 to 1603, were descendants of one of Wales’s noble families.

Nowadays, the dragon is the national icon, symbolic of Wales and all things Welsh. Not only is it on the national flag, it can be seen on almost every other item you can think of, from sculpture and statuary and coats of arms to merchandise and street art. Here are just a few examples I have photographed during my two months in Wales. There will be many many more!

Cardiff City Hall dragon

The dragon who sits on top of Cardiff City Hall is a very grand beast, shaped so that his long, serpent-like body coils around him and his wings flare out sideways. To me, he looks more Chinese than Welsh. He was sculpted by H. C. Fehr, a master of the turn-of-the-century New Sculptors movement.

Cardiff Crown Court lamp standards

Several of these lamp standards stand along the front of the Cardiff Crown Court buildings, just across the road from City Hall. Each lamp standard has two dragons and they each have different personalities, though all look rather grim and grumpy. I think that's partly because they’ve accumulated too many layers of red paint over the years so have lost some of their definition.

Cardiff Crown Court front entrance

One of these dragons sits either side of the main entrance to the Crown Court, looking quite small and dainty atop their tall ornate pedestals. With one paw raised, their stance is a bit doggish, but just look at that armoured body and the flesh-tearing teeth and those sharp claws. They may be small but they’re fierce.

Crown Buildings

Just down the road from the Crown Court and the City Hall, at the other end of Alexandra Gardens, sit the Welsh Government’s main office buildings, rather drab and unprepossessing structures, but one of them does have these magnificent lamp standards out front. In the few weeks since I first photographed these dragons they have been taken away and cleaned – the photo on the right is the ‘before’ shot, that on the left is the ‘after’. And just look at the scale-like effect on the lamp standard itself.

National Assembly for Wales

The Senedd is another Welsh government building, but this is in Cardiff Bay, several miles from the central city. And in keeping with the very modern architecture of this building, the dragon that adorns its front façade is also very stylised and modern.

Cardiff Bay building

I found this little dragon on the front of one of the older buildings at Cardiff Bay. I’m not sure of the building’s original use, perhaps as the office of one of the shipping companies that used the docks here in years gone by. I like this little dragon’s tongue and its curly tail.

All around the city

The last dragons for now (there will definitely be more in a future blog) can be found all around the central city, clipped on to lamp poles and along the fronts of many of the buildings. These are fire-breathing, devil-tailed dragons, that leave the visitor in no doubt as to which country they’re in and that the Welsh are a force to be reckoned with!

Rugby World Cup 2015 is here!

Today’s the day!

From tonight’s opening ceremony to match number 48, the Rugby World Cup final on Saturday 31 October at Twickenham, rugby fans around the world – and in Cardiff – will be shouting themselves hoarse at matches (if they’ve been lucky enough to get tickets) or screaming at their television screens at home. In pubs, over a pint or three, they’ll be debating the merits of players and dissing the decisions of the referees. In tearooms and canteens, at smoko and over lunch, the only topic of conversation will be whether Steve Hansen’s chosen the right 31-man All Black squad or Warren Gatland’s Welsh boyos can beat Uruguay in their first Pool A match.

The Welsh love their rugby almost as much as my fellow New Zealanders do, and Cardiff’s world-class Millennium Stadium is the venue for eight World Cup games, beginning tomorrow night, when Ireland plays Canada.

Cardiff is abuzz! The flags of all the participating nations are flying in the streets.

And this morning Cardiff awoke to the news that the ‘Rugby World Cup 2015 has touched down in Cardiff with a BANG!’ Overnight, an enormous rugby ball had ‘smashed into the wall of Cardiff Castle’!

It’s fake, of course, but an extremely well done fake by UK-based company, Wild Creations, who specialise in making props and displays for television and film productions, retail displays, exhibitions and more. The huge ball was the talk of the town today, it was being photographed by everyone who walked past (including me), and the tag #ballinthewall was trending on social media.

The Millennium Stadium is bedecked with its gigantic World Cup banner and the flags are flying high.

Even the graffiti has a sporting theme!

So, even if you’re like me and you’re not actually a big fan of rugby, like as not you’ll be feeling the fever over the next six weeks. Here’s wishing all the teams the very best of luck, though, of course, being a Kiwi by birth, I can’t help but hope the All Blacks win! And, as I’m now living in Cardiff, I’m picking Wales for the runners-up!