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Anthony - Bielefeld, Germany

I moved away from Pembrokeshire in the Middle of the 80´s to join the Army.One of Maggies millions I`d left college to absolutely no future in my own country.Now more than 20 years later I can look back and remember all the good things about life in Wales.Being a Pembrokeshire boy the beaches are what I have missed the most.I come home once a year(mostly on summer holiday) if I can so the sands of Tenby,Sandersfoot or Barafundle are not just hazy memories but I do miss it all in the winter.The beach to yourself,strong fresh Atlantic winds blowing in your face.Alone with nature.But it´s not just the beaches,it´s the people,the slower way of life(compared to Germany)layed back and relaxed(you´ll be alright boy!),the togetherness in a crisis,the sing song accent(it´s like a magnet for Taffs abroad),the love of Wales the people have(there´s no national pride like it in the world),Rugby(you can shout and scream watching it on the TV but when you live abroad you can´t enjoy the countrywide afterglow,the countryside(trips up the Preselis as a kid,trying to catch a sheep) and so many other small things that make up life in Wales.
I hope maybe one day to return to Wales to live,I hope that if that happens life in Wales will be as I remember it.i´m sure it will be.

From Anthony formerly of Pembroke Dock,Pembrokeshire now living in Bielefeld Germany

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Colin - Northern Ontario

I left Wales in 1977, at the age of 25, to live in Northern Ontario, Canada. I am a Pontypridd boy. Some of my fondest memories of home are of playing rugby, and going to Cardiff Arms Park to watch the Internationals.

The one game thats stands out more than the others, was of course the greatest game ever played. The Barbarians against New Zealand, January 27. 1973. As Max Boyce says " I was there.....". I was standing right above the welsh crest on top of the tunnel. I can still rememember the smell of linament when the teams came down the tunnel. There was something magical in the air that day ( and not just the smell ). There was something special in the way the crowd felt. Even the songs coming from the river end seemed more in tune and louder.The first try just 4 minutes into the game is burnt into my memory. Gareth Edwards started a play that involved almost all the Ba-Ba players, including Phill Bennett's bobbing and weaving up the field, and ending with Gareth scoring the try. The seventies were the greatest years for Welsh rugby. I remember that someone named their new born son after the welsh team..Gareth, Phil, Barry, John ........... ect.. I miss Wales, but I am glad that I was there for those great years.

worldwidewelsh memories --- worldwidewelsh memories --- worldwidewelsh memories

Brian Donovan - New South Wales:

One of my childhood memories of living in “Old South Wales” was that of our weekly swimming lessons at the Guidford Crescent Swimming Baths. As I remember there were I think 3 pools, 1 for men , 1 for women and 1 mixed. We used to walk up from Clarence Road junior school close to the” Green bridge “which crossed from the Docks to Grangetown. If they would have left it there it would be a monument now I’m sure. We walked up Bute St and around to Guildford Crescent and had our swimming lessons in those HUGE pools which looking back were probably 25 metres long. Then on the way back we used to stop at a little sweet shop owned by a Spanish woman I think, and my favourite thing to buy at the time was a little sack of bubble gum called Spanish Gold which was in the shape of little gold nuggets which used to melt in your mouth and turn to bubble gum then lose it’s flavour after about 2 minutes. This cost 3d which was about 1p. Then we would walk around into the top of Bute St under the railway bridge and go to a greek chippy for a bag of chips. I think they owned the travel agents next door as well. They were the greasiest chips I have ever tasted and were wonderful. When we were finally stuffed full of bubble gum and full fat chips all very healthy in those days after your weekly exercise class we would happily walk back down Bute St and off to our own homes without any fear of being troubled by strangers or perverts and back to our little terraced houses where now there are luxury apartments worth a lot lot more now than anyone who lived in the Old docks could ever afford.

Those swimming lessons led us to swim every summer at the outdoor baths at Llandaf fields and also in the completely polluted end of The Glamorganshire canal which was close to the Royal Hamadryad Hospital near the mud flats by Windsor Esplanade. God those days were such fun when we had nothing to do all 6 weeks summer holidays but make kites out of wooden dowel and brown paper bought from Clarence Hardware store and French Arrows also made from wooden dowel and playing cards for the flights and throw them up and down the park which I remember as being huge but on visiting in later years was about 200 yards long. Where were the Gameboys and Nintendos then Eh! You had to use your brain for your own entertainment then. I could go on waffling for ever but I think someone else should have a bit of space for their memories.

In a later email received from Brian he recalls 'with affection' visits to the Loo in the good ol days!..

The Echo ripped into bits and hung on a bit of wire. (lol) When my dad was a teenager he had a pet rooster out the back and only he could handle it as it was mad. When anyone but him went to the bog down the end of the back yard they had to take 2 slices of bread with them. 1 to chuck for the chicken on the way there and 1 for on the way back otherwise they were chased by the mad cockerel. I think I'm right in saying that I remember one of the neighbours having a bog down the back with a double seat for sitting side by side (strange).

Brians still getting it off his chest with some more happy childhood memories..

I used to live in the Docks area of Cardiff till I was 14. Across from our street were the landing platforms for the paddle steamers next to The Big Windsor pub. ( which my uncle managed for a few years by the way. I always used to think he was very rich as they had a 5ft white Christmas tree every year and I'd never seen one before ). During the summer holidays my mates and I used to wait for the "Weston boats" as we used to call them, to land and try to carry peoples luggage to waiting cars or buses or taxis for 3d ( 1p if you're not as old as I am ) a bag or 6d ( 2 1/2p ) if they looked rich, but we never got many 6d's. Sometimes if you were very quick you could make 2-3 shillings and ended up in a bath of sweat but the money would buy you sweets for about 2 weeks after.
On a few occasions our school St Mary's Clarence Road would have a school outing over to Weston then on to Bristol Zoo by bus. Fond memories they were of going down to the engine room and watching the huge con-rods going up and down then running up to the deck and watching the waves hit the front of the boat long before Leonardo DeCaprio and his chick did it. I can't remember where this part happened as it's a bit vague but my Nana used to make us carry anything over half a crown ( 12 1/2 p ) in a purse and always write down the number of the ten bob note or 1 pound note on a piece of paper in case we lost the money. I was always so embarrased by this but on this occasion I thanked Nana so much. I opened my purse, very discreetly of course, and inside was nothing, the ten bob note had gone. I checked to see if it was still there so many times that I had dropped it. I was at the counter ready to buy some sweets and when the man asked for my money I started crying. Then believe this or not, I heard a kid behind me say what a great day he was going to have with this ten bob note he had found. That's mine I said, but how could I prove it. Then in came Nana, Yaaayyyy, I have the number on a piece of paper I said to the man behind the counter and he took it off the other kid and checked it and I was rich once again. I never did tell Nana as she would have given me a hiding for losing it in the first place.

On the other side of the Channel in Eng**** (sorry about the use of the E word but I'm setting the atmosphere and it sometimes has to be used ) we would get off at Weston Super Mare and have about an hour on the pier before the bus took us to Bristol Zoo and would play on the penny slot machines with those huge handles you pull down. I never did win anything but it was the thrill of playing that was the thing. Then off to Bristol Zoo and seeing all those wonderful wild animals and having a picnic on the grass and running around until you couldn't run any more. The engine room on the Weston Boat was never as interesting on the way back as we were so tired. Then landing at the pontoon and walking up the wooden ramp to meet your parents and tell them excitedly all about your wonderful day in E******. Funny whenever I remember walking up or down that pontoon ramp I never did see the Newport transporter bridge in the background like Hayley Mills did in the film Tiger Bay. many years later as you probably know the Paddle steamers still did trips up and down the Channel, The Westward Ho and The Prince Ivanhoe they were called. Sue and her dad did a trip on the Prince Ivanhoe actually a week before it sank which was very sad. That it sank was sad not that Sue wasn't on it.

worldwidewelsh memories --- worldwidewelsh memories --- worldwidewelsh memories

 

Not Johnnys picture but it sets the mood

Johnny, Ont. Canada:

On Sept. 3rd. 1939, I remember hearing Neville Chamberlain announcing we were at War with Germany. This was in Barry, where I was born & raised. It didn't mean that much to a five year old, but I could see how upset the adults were. For us kids, life didn't seem to change that much at first. We were issued gas-masks, which we were supposed to carry with us at all times. Once the novelty of it wore off though, we'd ditch 'em in a hiding place, & retrieve 'em for school,& going home. Food rationing meant very little, we hadn't eaten lavishly before, so except for the lack of candy, I wasn't affected.
Things got worse though, when the Air Raids started. Getting out of bed in the night, hearing the warbling siren, and being hustled to the Anderson Shelter, in the back garden, where we'd sit with Gov't. issue ear-plugs,& rubber teeth protectors'. These were for the shock when bombs fell. Those were the only times I remember being frightened. In daytime, the rule was, more than halfway to School when the Siren started, we were supposed to run to school. Less, & we'd run home. We got fed up with this, & didn't go either place,my pals & I would head for the woods,Porthkerry. Watching the 'Dog-fights over the channel, between our planes & germans was a good pastime. After a night of bombing we collected shrapnell, & exchanged pieces like Rugby or Baseball cards. Later there were camps about a mile away. British & U.S. Army , & POW, both German & Italian. The Italians were allowed out to work, unescorted I think, I guess they were a low-risk for escape. The Germans were a different species. Our Troops would march through town, very smartly. The 'Yanks' however! I remember the first time I saw them 'marching', out of step, rifles held by the barrel. Not the disipline of our guys. But fighting, they were every bit as good. (I've seen the results in the South Pacific, when I sailed in the '50s., and heard the praise the Locals had for them.) They were kind to us kids. Lavished us with gum & candy bars, things we hadn't seen for a few years.

Those are some of the bitter-sweet memories I have of the early part of WW2.

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Bethan from St. Athan - Living in New Zealand

I guess I'm a little younger than a lot of the memories here!

I think I would still miss my memories even if I still lived in Wales as that's what they are - memories - and lets face it so much has changed especially rugby, which gets me to what I miss the most - the "Golden Years". I was brought up on rugby as I was born in 1973 and some of my earliest memories are going to my grandparents house in Ewenny, Nr. Bridgend on a weekend to watch Wales play on the T.V. - we would close the curtains and it would be so dark and all us kids would put on red and white scarves and hats and wave our welsh flags......ah.....those were the days when playing for your country was the be all and end all - JPR Williams was a god, I can remember asking one of my fathers friends - Tony Horn (used to be one of the groundsman at Cardiff Arms) when I was 8 years old what was the difference between Rugby Union and Rugby League and he replied "you shouldn't be talking like that besides there is no such thing as rugby league!"

And of course the thing that all Welshmen miss - The National Anthem sung at Cardiff Arms is there a sweeter sound guaranteed to raise the hairs on the back of your neck and put a tear in your eye?

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Roz from Cardiff- Now Living in USA

I grew up in Cardiff, and what I miss are the nights "out on the town" especially after a Rugby match when all of the city center was full of Rugby fans, noise, and chaos! We would always start off at "The Philharmonic" on St. Mary's street, we would then walk (usually in the freezing cold with no jackets) to "The Dog and Duck" which had a particularly sticky carpet that was never cleaned! Once 2.00am came around and everyone in every club and pub wandered onto the streets of the city, it was a tradition to head back (yes, in the freezing cold again) to Caroline Street for the ever popular Chip Butties, whilst carefully avoiding many drunken people and fights that may be occurring in the small lane. This may not seem like a fond memory to many, however at 18 years old, what more fun could there have been ?

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Annette now living in Australia

Like most people back in the 50's we weren't exactly rolling in money! A day trip (with the local bus company, Howells and Withers, or by train) was a real treat. A trip to Barry Island was the ultimate day out. Mum and Dad never told me beforehand so that I wouldn't be disappointed if it rained.
Cut and pack the sandwiches, fill the thermos, load up with towels, bucket and spade and calamine lotion for sunblock. How I hated that stuff! Several times the day would start off with sunshine, then it would be raining by lunchtime. The journey always seemed endless. Down on the sand, hire a deckchair for Mum, then the serious stuff started. Sandpies and sandcastles, Dad making cars and planes in the sand. A dip in the sea, watching out for oil and tar patches, shivering and goosepimples. Sand in the sandwiches, warm pop, candyfloss, Punch and Judy. Never thought about the violent content. Up to the"shows" for an hour or two, riding on the Scenic Railway, the Caterpillar, the aeroplane swings. A bag of cockles or chips. Wriggling all the way home, itching from sand, salt and sunburn. It took half the time to get home.
School Monday morning, the favourite topic of conversation would be "Which is best... Barry or Porthcawl?" We generally agreed that Porthcawl had better shows. Simple pleasures.


Does anyone remember the fairs that used tour the valleys? Looking back, they were pretty basic........ usually a carousel, the dodgems and a few sideshows where you never won anything! We used to be thrilled nonetheless. Mum always warned me about the showpeople, considered to be a rather unsavoury bunch of charachters, but the older girls would hang around them as if they were film stars!

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Les Davies (Living in Perth, Western Australia)

I grew up in the Afan Valley ("Afan" being Welsh for "Raspberry") in a small mining village called Duffryn Rhondda. It was named after the Powel, Duffryn Mining Co. and the "Rhondda" seam of coal that was being mined. Our house was up the hill overlooking the mine; I could look out of the window and see Dad working at the pithead, I couldn't sleep at night without the sound of "Trams" clanging into each other. The valley was full of mines in those days and also full of people to work in them; the village two and a half miles up the road, Cymmer Afan, had five platforms. There were trains going from there to Maesteg and Bridgend, Port Talbot, Neath and Swansea and through the mountain to the Rhondda and thence to Cardiff. Despite being quite a busy place the valley was still essentially rural and my childhood was full of activities like building swimming dams in a stream, rope swings, picking Wimberries, tickling trout and day long expeditions up the Nant Y Bar mountain and over to Glyn Neath or Tonmawr. Winter was when we could stay out in the dark for hours running around with candles in dry milk tins, building bonfires and raiding the bonfires of the "Caerau" boys over the mountain and playing "Kick a Tin". School was a tiny place run by "Dai Digs nails and sprigs" (David Jones), Miss George, Miss Lloyd and Mr Davies where the wearing of hobnailed boots by the boys was a compulsory requirement of the student body or you were a "Nancy". I've been back there recently and there are no mines now, the railways have gone and those wonderful people of my childhood have, by and large,
wandered hither and thither or passed on. Only a few remain and the place is now a very beautiful area. Those people are in my heart forever and I can only remember sunny days in the Raspberry valley, even when it was raining and snowing the sun still shines in my memory.

worldwidewelsh memories --- worldwidewelsh memories --- worldwidewelsh memories

Dave Jones (Dai the Pastie) Pen Argyl, Pennsylvania, USA

My favourite memory is from Sept 8th, 2005. That's when Paul, Paul, Steven, and I met at the Red Lion in Bonvilston. We talked, and drank, and a good time was had by all. I even received my World Wide Welsh T-shirt. It was a great night. And, I look forward to doing it again in 2007. Except I'm not going to drink four pints for Brian, next time.

worldwidewelsh memories --- worldwidewelsh memories --- worldwidewelsh memories